Broadway is an expensive industry. Unlike a movie set, where if an actor messes up they do another take, the story needs to be polished from start to finish. This takes time, money, and effort. It is understandable, then, when performers get upset because they see TikTok edits of their show using illegal footage while the production is still open. Illegal recordings of shows, or bootlegs, have been around for almost as long as live theatre itself. But what are they, actually? Why are they so normalised? And what can we do to make it fair and accessible for everyone?
The term “bootleg” was primarily used during Prohibition to refer to flasks of liquor stashed in one’s boot to avoid being caught by the police. The concept has since shifted to refer to an illegal recording of a production, whether it be an album, a concert, or a performance. They are then uploaded to a social media platform (usually YouTube) under a pseudonym. The most common ones are “slime tutorials”, named this way to avoid copyright claims. For example, a recording of Heathers performed by the original West End cast may be titled “Traffic Light Slime Tutorial (Original British Recipe)”.
In the Broadway (used here as synonymous with all theatre companies) community, bootlegs are seen as a necessary evil. The conversation has not taken centre stage for a long time, because to cast light on the problem unravels a variety of problems of its own. However, in recent years, the discourse has finally begun to surface. This is mostly because of the renaissance that musical theatre underwent in 2020: the world was shut down, people could not watch live theatre, but they still wanted to engage with the medium. The solution: grainy videos on dodgy websites of everyone’s favourite Glinda prancing around to “Popular”. The bootleg industry had been living in a grey area until then, following a strict code of ethics. Bootlegs were only distributed once the original producer had given the green light, usually after the recorded show with the main cast had closed or if a principal member was replaced during the run of the production. They were also intentionally hard to find and not discussed or redistributed once found – to protect their existence. Further, only specific people would make the recordings, choosing seats in the theatre best suited to film without distracting the performers or being caught.
With musicals gaining popularity, people began bending these unspoken rules – distributing videos on mainstream platforms without euphemistic titles, making new recordings when Broadway reopened and sharing them the very next day, and filming from the second row with the flash on using their old iPhone. This resulted in an influx of terrible quality footage that clearly disrupted the performers and benefitted no one. (Seriously, look for footage of bootleggers getting caught. There is one where Will Roland from Be More Chill tells someone off after the opening number. It is stressful, for everyone.)
Why are they such a big deal if the industry accepts them as inevitable anyways? The problem lies within the ethics of piracy. Broadway productions usually have eight shows a week, which the actors are compensated for. When a person makes and distributes a bootleg, some argue that their work is stolen from them. The audience does not pay to see them, and they are consequently not paid for their efforts. When someone sees how much effort goes into each performance, it is easy to see why they want compensation, especially with the intricacies of contracts and unions complicating how much they are paid in the first place. Further, productions do not just need actors; they need lighting technicians, sound technicians, stage managers, prop masters, wardrobe departments, and so many more to glue it all together. A bootleg does not just harm the people on stage – it harms everyone behind it too.
Is it as black and white as it seems though? The people are indeed affected, but maybe it is because the system is broken. Tickets to see a production are expensive. The cheapest available seats in the Richard Rogers Theatre during Leslie Odom Jr’s return as Aaron Burr on Broadway go for around $800. That is close to R14 000. This does not factor in flights, accommodation, visas, and other travel expenses. How is a broke university student meant to see a legend return to the role that began it all? Sometimes, the only option is a bootleg. Theatre is largely inaccessible, and that is just in the countries that host opportunities to watch the shows. As shows become less available to the general public, the only way to keep their magic alive is through online communities. After all, social media runs the forum of public opinion. Like it or not, what fuels the fandoms is footage. The ethos of a musical is maintained for as long as there is content related to it. Like I said, bootlegs are a necessary evil.
In some cases, they may actually do more good than anticipated. Take the musical, Be More Chill, for example. When it first premiered in 2015, the musical had a short run at Two River Theatre in New Jersey before closing. Ghostlight Records made a cast recording of the show, but it initially did not gain much traction. That is, until the show blew up in 2017, long after the musical closed. The album started charting on the Billboard Cast Album’s Top Ten. This led to a reopening off-Broadway in 2018, before moving to Broadway in 2019 and having numerous international productions. How did it get so successful on social media, you may be asking? This has been attributed to the existence of the cast recording, music videos released by the theatre for certain songs, and a bootleg of half the show uploaded by a Russian YouTube channel. Without the existence of this media, people would not know what the show looked like and would not be able to make the animatics and other content that brought the show back to life.
This case highlights a potential solution to the problem: release high-quality footage of the production after it closes. Once the show has ended, it is no longer profitable because there are no more performances to work on. In the past, income has been generated by licensing the production so other companies, including high schools, can put on the show. This is why it is illegal for other companies to put on Hamilton – it is still running on Broadway and therefore has not been licensed for public use. However, this method is limited as the license to a show is a one-time purchase and is generally not expensive, and therefore not profitable. An alternative is to release a professionally-filmed version of the show. This has been done by some of the major productions like Heathers, Hamilton, Next to Normal, Into The Woods, and Cabaret. By taking this route, revenue generated from streaming can help compensate workers after the show has closed. However, it is not without its own problems: streaming services are notorious for paying pennies when it comes to royalties. While there is a steadier stream of income, the amount received is usually pitiful.
Perhaps the best solution to the dilemma is an approach taken by independent theatre company Starkid Productions. After their limited run of their shows are complete, their production team puts together a digital ticket. This is essentially a rental of the professional recording of the performance. The ticket is available for 30 days once purchased and 72 hours once pressing play, and can be watched as many times as your heart desires within that window. After an extended period of time (usually a couple of months), a digital download (a higher quality version of the digital ticket) is uploaded on YouTube so that the public can watch it for free. This helps protect the show from bootlegging – people are less inclined to take part in the illegal distribution when they know that there will eventually be a version they can watch for free. Questions about practicality may be raised when applied to larger shows: one of the main reasons why this works so well is due to the smaller scale of the company and the subsequent tight-knit community that has been established. It is self-policing, which may not be able to be achieved in a bigger group.
The crux of the matter is: there is no perfect solution. Until the magic of live theatre is accessible to every person in the world, there will always be illegal recordings that slip through the cracks. The only thing we as a society can do is practice decorum. Respect the performers, respect the craft, and respect one another. One day, we will be able to “throw [them their] money at full-price admission” (thanks, Henry Hidgens), but until that day comes, we shall simply have to watch the world end through a screen.
