If violence is a terrible thing, why do we watch it? Nevitt explores the use of violence in theatre and its effect on spectators. Critically engaging with examples of stage combat, rape, terrorism, wrestling and historical re-enactments, she argues that studying violence through theatre can be part of a desire to create a more peaceful world.
Theatre and Violence is one of those rare books that refuses to treat violence as mere spectacle. Instead, it asks how theatre stages, interrogates, and refracts violence—political, social, and aesthetic. For anyone who works in theatre, this is not just theory but a mirror held up to practice. Nevitt’s strength lies in her refusal to romanticize. She avoids the glamour of blood on stage or the thrill of shock value, situating theatre instead within broader social dynamics: war, protest, oppression, and resistance. Violence here is not an isolated act but a cultural grammar, and theatre becomes the site where that grammar is examined.
Her case studies range widely, from political theatre to performance art, each handled with clarity. She shows how theatre can expose the mechanics of violence while staging it as choreography, spectacle, or illusion. Audiences witness harm without harm occurring—violence as language rather than act.
The prose can be dense, and the structure leans academic rather than theatrical. Yet the weight is rewarding. Nevitt’s rigor is undeniable, and her refusal to simplify makes the insights sharper. This is not a book of easy answers; it insists on complexity.
Most striking is her insistence that theatre teaches us how to watch violence. We don’t merely see it—we learn to interpret, recoil, normalize, or resist. That framing makes the book essential not only for scholars but for practitioners. Every staging of violence carries ethical weight, whether it is a stylized fight, a WWE spectacle, or a solo performance edging into self-harm.
Nevitt shows that theatre refracts violence, forcing us to confront its cultural meanings. It is a profound, unsettling, and necessary insight—a book to be read with the lights on, and with the conscience awake.
I am truly indebted to the 'Theatre &' series. Though they be small, introductory volumes, they be mighty. They make so many different corners of theatre scholarship accessible and never offer anything less than a thorough and explorative 'first venture' into their topic.
Petra Kupper's 'Theatre & Disability' was crucial for my approach to my undergraduate dissertation, and Lucy Nevitt's fantastic 'Theatre & Violence' is no exception, only this time it has been a seminal first step towards writing my postgraduate dissertation on Body Horror in Renaissance Drama. Initially, Nevitt introduces the approach of actuality versus simulation when it comes to violence in performance, but then goes on to produce a deeper analysis of how these two distinctions are sometimes blurred through a number of perspectives: Spectatorship, Stylistic Choices, Ideology and Performativity, Wrestling (and sports), Re-Enactment, Stage Combat and even goes beyond performance.
The final paragraph encapsulates why scholars, activists and persons alike take an interest in analysing the way that violence is constructed across mediums. There is no underlying perversion or voyeuristic delight. It is the desire "to contribute to the making of a more peaceful and less violent world." I encourage anyone who is even remotely interested in theatre scholarship to utilise the 'Theatre &' series. There are currently 55 books available (as far as I am aware) that range from Theatre & Animals, Prison, Tourism, Migration, Laughter, Museums, Race, and so on.
For anyone making violence in theatre, this is worth your time. It challenges us to weigh cause, effect and approach. Must read for fight directors and has me inspired to read Hannah Arendt’s On violence.
Αρκετά ενδιαφέρον βιβλίο. Όμως λόγο του μικρού του μεγέθους, θα μπορούσε να είχε σταθεί περισσότερο στη βία στο θέατρο και λιγότερο στη βία στο θέαμα γενικά.
It had been a minute since I had read any sort of theory in relation to the craft of acting, and what a timely read it was. To finish this at almost the exact same time the capitol was stormed drew so many connections in my head about the performative nature of the moment, and really strengthened the ideas put forth in this book.
Clear enough, but really dry. The research is good, but the arguments are a little one sided for something designed to be comprehensive. No flavour to the writing at all.
This is an incredibly interesting and insightful little book about violence in the theatre. It talks about issues such as when violence is seen as acceptable (canon and historical plays) and when it was considered as gratuitous and unnecessary (Blasted, Saved) It briefly explored ideas of masculinity, rape and verbatim theatre being useful as a way of healing after violence, specifically the theatre that came out of South Africa after the end of apartheid.
It requires prior knowledge of a lot of the plays discussed but raises some very interesting points about what we do and don't see as extreme in theatre and how these extremes challenge our ideas.