The Underdog's Playwright: John Godber at 70 and Still Championing the Unseen
There’s something profoundly moving about an artist who, at 70, remains as fiercely committed to their craft as they were in their youth. John Godber, Yorkshire’s most prolifically performed playwright, is one such figure. As he marks his seventh decade, his latest play, This Is The Life, isn’t just another addition to his 70-plus dramas—it’s a testament to his enduring passion for storytelling and his unwavering dedication to the underdogs of society.
What makes Godber’s work so compelling, in my opinion, is his ability to find drama in the overlooked corners of life. His plays aren’t about kings and queens or the glitterati of society. Instead, they’re about the stage managers sitting in the dark, the amateur rugby teams struggling to field seven players, and the local theatres on the brink of closure. This Is The Life, for instance, centers on a small theatre threatened by neoliberalism and commercialization—a narrative that feels both timely and timeless.
One thing that immediately stands out is Godber’s insistence on accessibility. He’s not writing for the elite; he’s writing for everyone. This is particularly evident in his critique of soaring theatre ticket prices, which he rightly calls elitist. Personally, I think this is where his work transcends mere entertainment—it’s a call to action, a reminder that art should be a shared experience, not a luxury.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply personal Godber’s writing is, despite its universal themes. His plays about his parents, Happy Families and September In The Rain, are not just biographical sketches but explorations of the human condition. His latest work, however, marks a new direction: it’s the first time he’s written about theatre itself. This shift feels significant, as if he’s turning the lens inward to examine the very institution that’s shaped his life.
If you take a step back and think about it, Godber’s career is a study in consistency and evolution. He’s remained true to his roots—his Yorkshire upbringing, his working-class perspective—while continually pushing his boundaries as a writer. His influences, from George Steiner to Brecht, are evident, but his voice is distinctly his own. What this really suggests is that great art isn’t just about innovation; it’s about authenticity.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Godber’s reflection on his childhood. Unlike many writers who draw inspiration from trauma, he had a loving, stable upbringing. Yet, he’s managed to channel his experiences into stories that resonate with people from all walks of life. This raises a deeper question: does art require suffering, or can it emerge from joy and curiosity? Godber’s life seems to argue the latter.
From my perspective, Godber’s legacy isn’t just in his plays but in his ability to inspire. His daughters, Elizabeth and Martha, have followed in his footsteps, as has his actress wife, Jane. This familial connection to the arts feels symbolic—a passing of the torch, a reminder that creativity is often a shared endeavor.
As Godber continues to write, his work feels more urgent than ever. In a world where the arts are increasingly under threat, his plays serve as a rallying cry for those who believe in the power of storytelling. Personally, I think his greatest achievement isn’t the number of plays he’s written but the way he’s used his platform to amplify the voices of the marginalized.
In conclusion, John Godber at 70 isn’t just a playwright—he’s a cultural force. His latest play, This Is The Life, is more than a story about a theatre in danger; it’s a reflection on the value we place on art, community, and the human spirit. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Godber manages to be both deeply personal and universally relevant. If you’ve ever felt like an underdog, his work is for you. And if you haven’t, it might just make you think twice about who deserves to be in the spotlight.
