The Underdog's Advocate: John Godber's Timeless Relevance
There’s something profoundly comforting about artists who remain true to their roots, especially when those roots are as deeply embedded in the soil of social inequality as John Godber’s. At 70, the Yorkshire playwright isn’t just a relic of a bygone era; he’s a living testament to the enduring power of storytelling as a tool for empathy. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Godber’s work continues to resonate, not because it’s trendy or avant-garde, but because it’s relentlessly human.
Why the Underdog Still Matters
Godber’s latest play, This Is The Life, is a case in point. On the surface, it’s a story about a local theatre on the brink of closure, but if you take a step back and think about it, it’s a microcosm of a much larger struggle. The arts, once a communal lifeline, are increasingly becoming a luxury. Ticket prices in the West End, as Godber points out, now rival the cost of a week’s holiday in Spain. This raises a deeper question: Who gets to experience theatre, and who is left out?
Personally, I think this is where Godber’s genius lies. He doesn’t just write about the underdog; he writes for them. His characters aren’t kings or queens; they’re stage managers, rugby players, and ordinary folks grappling with life’s inequities. What many people don’t realize is that this focus on the marginalized isn’t just a stylistic choice—it’s a political statement. In a world increasingly dominated by neoliberalism, Godber’s work is a reminder that art should be accessible, not elitist.
The Personal as Political
One thing that immediately stands out is Godber’s ability to weave the personal into the political. His upbringing in Upton, his miner father’s autodidacticism, and his own journey from a 10-minute sketch to over 70 plays—all of these experiences inform his writing. But here’s the twist: Godber didn’t have a traumatic childhood. He had loving parents, a stable home, and yet he’s drawn to stories of struggle.
This, to me, is what makes his work so compelling. It’s not born out of personal suffering but out of a deep-seated empathy for those who suffer. In my opinion, this is a rare quality in contemporary theatre, where personal trauma often feels like a prerequisite for authenticity. Godber’s work challenges that notion, suggesting that you don’t have to be broken to write about brokenness.
Theatre as a Mirror to Society
This Is The Life isn’t just about a theatre closing; it’s about the erosion of community spaces in the face of commercialization. The town council’s decision to sell the theatre’s land for luxury flats is a metaphor for a broader societal shift—one where profit trumps culture. What this really suggests is that the arts are being systematically devalued, and with them, the voices of the people they represent.
From my perspective, this is where Godber’s work becomes timeless. He’s not just documenting the struggles of his time; he’s holding up a mirror to ours. The themes of inequality, class struggle, and the human spirit’s resilience are as relevant today as they were when he wrote Up ‘n’ Under. What makes this particularly interesting is how he manages to do this without being preachy. His plays are funny, relatable, and deeply moving—a rare combination in political theatre.
The Power of Dreaming
A detail that I find especially interesting is Godber’s emphasis on the act of dreaming. In a society where austerity and price hikes have become the norm, he argues that losing the ability to dream is the ultimate defeat. This isn’t just a sentimental notion; it’s a radical one. In a world that often feels devoid of hope, Godber’s characters dare to imagine a better future.
This raises a deeper question: What happens to a society that stops dreaming? From my perspective, this is the most important message of Godber’s work. It’s not just about the underdog; it’s about the collective human spirit. If we stop dreaming, we stop fighting—and that’s a future none of us can afford.
Conclusion: Why Godber Still Matters
As I reflect on Godber’s career, what strikes me most is his consistency. He hasn’t changed his focus or his style because the issues he writes about haven’t gone away. If anything, they’ve become more pronounced. In a world where inequality is on the rise and the arts are under threat, Godber’s voice is more important than ever.
Personally, I think his greatest achievement isn’t the number of plays he’s written or the accolades he’s received; it’s his ability to make us care. In a culture that often feels fragmented and apathetic, Godber’s work is a call to action. It reminds us that theatre isn’t just entertainment—it’s a lifeline, a mirror, and a weapon. And as long as there are underdogs, there will be a need for writers like John Godber.
So, here’s to 70 years of dreaming, fighting, and writing. The world needs more voices like his—voices that refuse to be silenced, voices that dare to imagine a better world. Because, as Godber himself might say, if we stop dreaming, we’ve already lost.
