It’s Okay to Have an Opinion on a Show You Haven’t Seen (Yep, I Said It)

by Chris Peterson

Let’s just say this out loud first, because it’s true and it matters. Seeing a show live is the gold standard. Always has been. The lights dim, the orchestra starts, the room collectively inhales, and for a few hours you’re part of something that only exists right then. When theatre hits, it hits your whole body. That feeling doesn’t come from a screen or a Spotify playlist. No argument there.

But here’s the thing we need to stop pretending isn’t also true. You are allowed to have an opinion about a show even if you haven’t seen it live.

I know. Deep breath. Somewhere, someone just whispered, “Well actually…” and cracked their knuckles. But stay with me.

We don’t live in a world where shows quietly exist until opening night and then politely wait for you to buy a ticket. We live in a world of cast albums dropping immediately, first-look photos, designer interviews, rehearsal clips, slime tutorials, TikToks, fan debates, hot takes, think pieces, and Reddit threads that could qualify as a minor in dramaturgy. A show starts existing in the culture long before you sit in a seat.

So if you’ve listened to the album. If you’ve read the synopsis. If you’ve followed the chatter. If you’ve seen that one clip everyone keeps arguing about. Congratulations. You’ve engaged with the work. You’ve started forming a response. That’s not illegal. That’s being a theatre person in 2026.

Is it the full experience? Of course not. But it’s an experience. You can love the score and side-eye the book. You can be obsessed with the visuals and feel disconnected from the concept. You can want to love something and feel like it’s just not quite clicking. That isn’t ignorance. That’s taste developing in real time.

And yes, live theatre can absolutely change your mind. I’ve gone into shows ready to be unimpressed and walked out wrecked in the best possible way. That magic is real. But not everyone has the time, money, geography, or flexibility to see every buzzy new thing the moment it opens. Acting like silence is the only acceptable option until someone’s seen a show in person isn’t reverence. It’s gatekeeping.

And gatekeeping doesn’t help theatre. It shrinks it.

If we want this art form to survive, it has to be a conversation, not a velvet-rope club. There has to be room for curiosity. For skepticism. For “this isn’t for me, but I’m glad it exists.” For opinions that come with context and the willingness to evolve.

You shouldn’t need a $300 orchestra seat just to be allowed to talk.

Honestly, some of the most interesting theatre conversations happen outside the theatre anyway. In the lead-up. In the listening. In the wondering. In the debating. In the moments where someone says, “I don’t know, something about this feels off,” and someone else says, “That’s exactly why it works for me.”

So say the thing. Share the take. Hold it lightly. Leave room to change your mind later.

But don’t let anyone convince you that you don’t belong in this community just because you haven’t seen a show live yet.

Your opinion counts. Your curiosity counts. And caring enough to engage at all? That’s kind of the whole deal.