Audiences Behaving Badly.

Joseph Ting is fed up with the “glow worms” of modern theatre - people texting and tweeting on the phone from the audience. But when Stage Whispers asked our Facebook friends for their audience horror stories…the responses were hilarious.

The argument was persuasively made by my theatre-auteur companion. A season of delightful cultural immersion in London would be well worth the disorientating stresses of a long-haul flight from the Antipodes.

How could one resist a season of gripping shows at the National Theatre and Old Vic , sparklingly effervescent (Hair, Legally Blonde, Mamma Mia) and uplifting West End musicals (Billy Elliott)? My only feeble protest was that a congested performing arts schedule would consign museum and gallery forays to the realm of the impossible.

Excited conversation among the audience at the Olivier dimmed in concert with the darkening house lights. The curtain was raised on The White Guard and the start of a historical epic about a wealthy loyalist family cast into the jaws of war with the Bolsheviks.

The cacophony of fear and strident fighting on stage had me by the throat until I was forced into the awareness of the dispersed and sporadic coupling of lit screens with the busy fingers of Twitterers and Texters.

This twinkling distraction had all the subtlety of being made to sit in a dark cave emblazoned with over-energised glow worms. As if this were not punishment enough, the magic of the evening was punctured by bouts of irrepressible coughing, the noisy crinkle of lollies being slowly unwrapped, the loud whispering of blow-by-blow comments about the play and negotiations related to post-show amusements.

Gladiatorial competition for pencil-thin arm rests between seats led to the brutal and forceful eviction of my arm and a heated scuffle. The fervent restlessness of the bored declared itself in the frequent brushing of body parts against the stillness of the rapt audience member.

Audible creaks and transmitted movement from the chair of the restless or disinterested wreaks more misery for those close by. As if not enough flesh and blood had already been extracted from my depleted enjoyment, a screen lit up as bright as day close to us. Like a red rag to a charging bull, my arm lashed out with venomous intent across several startled laps to smother the offending light.

According to Peter Funt in the New York Times, theatres and concert halls are now corralling Twitterers into a single audience section. In my opinion, this risks the agglomeration of many small lit screens and many sets of saccadic flight of thumbs into a dense trembling glow that competes for attention with events on stage.

I imagine Twitterers gathered around the prickling embers of a camp fire; but instead of sharing tales with one another, the compulsion is to fire a rapid series of thinly formulated micro-opinions into cyberspace in real time.

By not strongly condemning disruptive or distracting audience behavior, theatre going risks becoming like a trek into the wilderness. Not protesting the panoply of modern invasions into the consciousness of theatre-goers intent on what is unfolding on stage risks the law of the jungle trampling on the rights of the attentive, considerate and thoughtful paying homage to the thrill of the world on the stage.

But badly behaved audiences are nothing new. Here are our favourite horror stories from our Facebook fans.

Our winner was

I was at a school outing to Romeo and Juliette in the 70s, and when Juliette was 'dead' the school wag shouted out "F@*k her while she's warm!" He's now a conservative MP.

But wait there’s more.

I had someone tap out the beat during Rigoletto on the wooden floor of the Opera Theatre one night right behind me!!

In a production of The Sound of Music someone in the first few rows thought it would be funny to snort every 15 seconds for the first 30 minutes; incredibly frustrating. Could have strangled them, but dressed as a nun I had to refrain.

During a production of Wicked, I was seated next to a man (late 40's) who would recite every line, of every scene, word perfect. He then would proceed to BELT all the songs at the top of his lungs, even the softer ones.

At Ordinary Days the woman next to me took out a packet of chips and began to attempt to surreptitiously eat them ... you can't eat chips quietly, no matter how hard you try, and to make matters worse she was sitting in front of the director.

At Love Never Dies the man next to me conducted most of the 2nd act then hummed along to the leading lady's title song -- I coughed loudly in his direction and he stopped, thankfully!

In a school production a girl walked on stage playing what was implied to be a slutty girl and some boys thought it would be rather amusing to throw money at her to add injury to insult. When I walked on someone else threw a can, which hit me square in the forehead.

During a performance of La Cage Aux Folles, every time Albin was on stage, one clown in the crowd kept yelling "Gaaaayloooord!" I'm guessing he was a closet case himself. Or a basket case.

I was at a show where two older ladies spent the entire production TALKING OUT LOUD so they could hear each other OVER the cast. Were they discussing the show? Oh no...it was ....haemorrhoid this, gout that, constipation here, incontinence there. I leant forward, politely interrupted them and said shhhhh. They then proceeded to abuse ME for my lack of manners. But thankfully they were ejected from the theatre. Walking frames and all.

Lady from the audience walked onto the stage at the Woodbin Theatre in Geelong during a performance, casually strolled to a door upstage and went through to the toilet. Five minutes later she returned to her seat via the stage. The cast didn't miss a beat.

But don’t just blame the audience.

I was in a Community Theatre One Act season and after the first One Act play, while the 2nd one was on, the family of the director and the director herself from the first play, decided to leave and walked across the stage, thru the performance of the 2nd play!

Too many to mention but the lady who died during The Phantom of The Opera in Sydney 1995 was very thoughtless - and just before interval when the chandelier came down!

Originally published in the May / June 2012 edition of Stage Whispers.