Dear Divas: They’re Not “Your” Understudy

by Chris Peterson

A TikTok popped up on my feed that instantly made me do the theatre-person head tilt. An actor was talking about when he hears someone mention “their understudy,” and I swear I could hear every understudy in America collectively sigh through the screen.

I need us to retire this phrase. Lovingly, firmly, immediately.

Because understudies are not for you. They’re not your assistant. They’re not your intern with a backup belt. They are not your personalized insurance policy with legs. They are hired for the role, for the show, and for the audience who paid real money to see a full performance and not a panic spiral at places.

I once knew a Broadway actress who said “my understudy” constantly, and every time it landed like a tiny masterclass in accidental arrogance. Just that specific theatre-ego energy where people forget the production is bigger than one person’s dressing room mirror.

And the irony is wild, because these same circles love posting “theatre is a team sport.” Great. Then talk like it’s a team sport. “The understudy for the role.” “Our standby.” “The cover for Elphaba.” Look at that: respectful, accurate, and no one’s crown falls off.

Understudies are some of the most impressive performers in the building. They have to be ready with minimal notice, hold multiple tracks in their brain, adjust to ever-changing staging, and walk into high-pressure performances while everyone else is quietly praying they remember the quick-change map. They are the emergency generator of live theatre. When things go sideways, they keep the lights on.

And let’s talk about the emotional part for a second, because this gets skipped. Imagine training constantly for a role you may or may not perform, being excellent anyway, and then hearing yourself described like someone’s accessory. That wears on people. Language might feel small, but in theatre, small things become culture fast. One comment in a dressing room becomes a vibe. A vibe becomes a norm. A norm becomes “just how things are.” That’s how disrespect gets dressed up as tradition.

So yes, words matter, especially in an art form built on words.

Also: we really have to stop treating understudies like background wallpaper until a principal is out, then suddenly acting like they invented oxygen. You can’t ignore people at rehearsal and crown them heroes at half hour. Pick a lane.

Thank your covers on normal days, not just crisis days. Learn what they’re carrying. Acknowledge that being “on” without guaranteed stage time requires a kind of discipline most people never see. If you’re a lead, set the tone. If you’re on a creative team, set the tone. If you’re in the ensemble, set the tone. Respect is everyone’s job.

Theatre doesn’t run on one diva and a spotlight. It runs on prepared artists, generous collaborators, and people who can deliver under pressure when the plan blows up. Understudies are central to that. Full stop.

So yes, this TikTok got me fired up. And maybe that’s the point.

Understudies are not “yours.” They are the show’s. Respect accordingly.