The Critic

by Richard Brinsley Sheridan

In "The Critic" Richard Brinsley Sheridan turns his attention to satirize the Theatre and all the people engaged in the business of the Theatre in late 18th century England. The critic of the story is a man by the name of Mr. Dangle and the play that is the subject of criticism is a horribly written production named "The Spanish Armada". Fans of Sheridan will delight in this lesser known work.

Genres: Plays, Classics, English Literature, Drama, Humor, 18th Century, Satire

80 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1779

About the author

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816) was an Irish-born playwright and poet and long-term owner of the London Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. For thirty-two years he was also a Whig Member of the British House of Commons for Stafford (1780–1806), Westminster (1806–1807) and Ilchester (1807–1812). Such was the esteem he was held in by his contemporaries when he died that he was buried at Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey. He is known for his plays such as The Rivals, The School for Scandal and A Trip to Scarborough.

Reviews

[emilia · Rating 3 out of 5]

of its time...
but not bad

[Evanthia · Rating 2 out of 5]

i had to read it for a paper, not something i would have picked up voluntarily. It's a play, so it is short. Funny at times. I love plays but i gave it two stars just because i do not particularly enjoy satire. Not a complete waste of time though.

[Richard Seltzer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read as research for my novel Parallel Lives.

[Matthew · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Critic, Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s last comedy, is hardly a drama at all. While comedies, including all of Sheridan’s other contributions to the genre, operate on a contrived plot, The Critic barely has a storyline at all. It is more like a series of comic sketches based around a theme. There is no love affair, no intrigues, and no family strife.

All that happens in the play is that Mr Dangle sets himself up as a theatre critic, much to the disapproval of his wife. He meets with Mr Sneer, another critic and aspiring playwright, and they express detestation of another dramatist. The self-important Mr Puff, who makes a living from writing fawning panegyrics, agrees to show them his play. In the second act, we see this play – which is awful – and the critics deliver polite sneers.

What seems most surprising about the play is that Sheridan, while satirical about all the characters, seems more in sympathy with the critics than with a fellow dramatist. Admittedly Sheridan was no struggling playwright at this stage of his career, and could afford to ridicule the feeble efforts of less talented hacks.

There is no great depth to The Critic, but it might be Sheridan’s funniest play. The lack of story and its brevity work against it, and this may explain why it is less well-performed than The Rivals or The School for Scandal.

The play really comes to life during Puff’s terrible play about the Spanish Armada. Characters appear on stage and tell each other things that should be obvious to them just so that Puff can inform the audience what is happening. Clumsy exclamations replace full sentences, and even the hero’s death occurs in mid-sentence. The humour is increased, as with Shakespeare’s plays-within-plays by having the other characters offer a humorous commentary on what is happening.

While Sheridan was a decent enough writer, he was hardly a great dramatist. He had the fortune to live in an age where drama really was as awful as he portrays it in this play, so even a moderately decent playwright such as himself was vastly superior to his peers.

Still, Sheridan’s plays do have their amusing moments, and his best works can make entertaining theatre, even today. There is a wit and charm about his best writing, even if his works lack heart.

[Dominic H · Rating 4 out of 5]

In 1946 at the Old Vic Laurence Olivier famously played Oedipus in Sophocles ‘Oedipus Rex’ and Mr Puff in Sheridan’s ‘The Critic’ in what must have been an extraordinary double bill. (Perhaps Peter Brook had this unlikely juxtaposition in mind when (replacing an ill Olivier) he directed John Gielgud as Oedipus in Ted Hughes version of Seneca’s Oedipus in 1968 again at the Old Vic (by then the National Theatre) a performance which ended with the cast (with the exception of Gielgud) singing ‘Yes, we have no bananas’).
Being reminded of the double bill I realised I have never read the Sheridan. I was astonished when I did. It is an extraordinarily acute satire of vanity and the hype that accompanies public life. It takes aim at the theatre but is equally applicable to other art and most certainly politics. It is very, very funny. The last two acts which are a rehearsal of Puff’s play ‘The Spanish Armada’ are an astonishingly daring piece of metatheatre. Olivier must have been in his element. Why is isn’t it performed more often?

[Michael P. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great edition of a wonderful play.

[Juliette II · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well this was a hoot. Bit of sheer fun, no lessons to be learned.🦉 Massive set, costume and prop requirements. Mostly male roles.

[Mark · Rating 4 out of 5]

In many ways, the earlier moderns were better able to see the changes happening around them than we can see ours. We postmoderns are so interminably jaded and frazzle-brained that we don't trust anything anymore, and we end up barking at shadows. Sheridan wrote in the midst of the modern age's triumph, a rare time in history when bitterness did not reign, at least not for the conquering Europeans. This allowed the European mind an unprecedented opportunity to reflect on their apparent triumphs. Many chose to revel and brag, making for a gaudy and unbearable aesthetic (c.f. all 1700's fashion), but the more perceptive chose to criticize. However, criticism is a fickle thing. Criticism had never before been so widespread, what with improving literacy rates and relative stability. Thus, an uninformed yet loud audience was born, one which has since only intensified its vices and blunted its virtues.

Sheridan anticipates the many derivative versions of "media literacy" we see today from Bernays to Postman to Chomsky. He does so by enumerating various 'puffs,' or ways that critics lie (in a way more pernicious than the way that authors lie). The thing which separates this from more contemporary criticism of criticism is that Sheridan did this in a comedic light, rather than the doomy atmosphere that so pervades contemporary criticism and commentary. The problem with such an overserious approach is that many of the Dunning-Kruger variety find in such seriousness a solemnity which they mistake for religion. This is the only way to explain a random 60 year old stopping me in the salsa aisle of WalMart to yap for an hour about every entry-level conspiracy theory he could think of. What a sad, godless man. I will admit, I went along with some of the things he said, and even egged him on a little, but that was my premodern joviality showing through, not some postmodern meta-irony. Or maybe it was both. I am a product of my age. Or of the salsa aisle. The thing is, I don't know how else to deal with criticism other than to laugh. Sometimes the laugh becomes a bit more sinister than I intend, but laughter is a much healthier response than some overserious lighting of candles and deifying of the arts. Sheridan points out here how the great artistic controversies of the day (or religious controversies, etc.) often boil down to petty interpersonal politics. He doesn't do this in a mean-spirited or dismissive way, but one which helps us take ourselves less seriously.

The only real problem with this "play" is that it's not a play, it was originally a short bawdy "after-credits" scene that got expanded into a "play," and it overstays its welcome slightly as a result. You do get to the point where you can feel your face muscles tensing, your jaw clenching as you force a smile, but that's only at the very end. I also get this feeling whenever I see that they've filmed an 8th Pirates of the Caribbean or a 6th Indiana Jones or a 13th Star Wars movie. It's a shame that no one, not even the mid-modernists, can be content to let a good thing rest. And with that, adieu.

[Keller Moore · Rating 5 out of 5]

This play is witty. I found myself laughing out loud, which I don't do often with a book, at a play from the 1700s.

If you've been reading heavy material, this play gives you a break and a good laugh or two while still retaining 18th-century eloquence.

[Kcatty · Rating 4 out of 5]

Watched as a play, adapted by Jeffrey Hatcher.

[Laurence Li · Rating 5 out of 5]

nn/10

[Sara Rideout · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jeffrey Hatcher’s adaptation.

Slow start but really built! This would be insanely fun to put on.

[Nguyễn Phát · Rating 1 out of 5]

A play just lives when it would be performed on stage and on time. The same for this.