West End queue-jumping- really?
London’s theatre scene is booming. Show after show is selling out weeks in advance.
But behind the packed auditoriums and soaring ticket prices lies a more complicated story.
ATG Entertainment, one of the biggest players in the game, recently reported record operating profits of £142.6 million for the year ending March 2024.
Not bad for a time where West End audiences have plateaued year-on-year, according to figures from the Society of London Theatre.
Anyway, ATG now operates 64 venues across Europe and North America—and, tellingly, its US business now generates more turnover than its UK arm.
You might think such success would lead to greater investment in audiences and workers.
Instead, ATG faces mounting criticism for what many see as cynical profiteering. Most recently, it introduced new fees that allow patrons to jump queues and access “priority” experiences.
At its West End venues, including the Ambassadors and Harold Pinter, the privilege of skipping the line now costs £5. Elsewhere, you can pay £10 for a Priority Club Bar pass that may get you a programme, a designated bar, and faster entry.
But can we get a quick reality check here, please? Two of ATGs West End venues only have 432 (Fortune Theatre) and 444 (Ambassadors Theatre) seats. There will never be a queue.
According to Andrew Rawlinson, ATG’s business director for London and West End theatres, the scheme has been “well received” and is all about offering “a more relaxed and speedier entry.” But scroll through social media and you’ll see a rather different picture: one viral comment summed it up as “Absolute Thieving Gits.”
This creeping monetisation of basic conveniences—queue-jumping, access to a bar, a programme—is depressingly familiar. It’s the Ryanair model, applied to the theatre.
And as critic Clive Davis noted this week, don’t be surprised if others follow suit. Meanwhile, one Facebook user wondered whether she could be fast-tracked to the front of the ladies queue.
And if they could, ATG surely would.
Indeed, ATG insists it’s trying to “make the theatre experience as smooth and enjoyable as possible.” But in practice, it’s reinforcing the outdated notion that comfort and access are only for those who can pay for them.
It’s the return of the old: the wealthy sit downstairs, while poorer patrons are shuffled upstairs and to the back—only now, they can pay extra to get in quicker.
What’s more, thanks to dynamic pricing, ticket prices are still obscene. The hit play Giant, first seen at the Royal Court, currently has tickets on sale for £300. (A friend of mine paid 10p for a standing ticket to see it during its run at the Court).
And yet, despite its record profits and packed houses, ATG is not an accredited London Living Wage employer.
Outrageous.
Nor are any of the other major commercial West End theatre operators. The National Minimum Wage in the UK is now £12.21 an hour— the London Living Wage is £13.85. It appears that it is the Front of House workers, currently being hammered by the cost-of-living crisis, that are most impacted by this.
According to one head of a union, the sector is locked into a two-year minimum terms agreement that prevents renegotiation until January 2026. Wage growth slowed 5.6 per cent in the three months to March, down from 5.9 per cent in the previous three months, according to figures from the Office For National Statistics (ONS).
But why should basic fairness wait? Surely this could be changed by mutual consent. Why should £300 tickets not guarantee decent wages—not just for the stars, but for everyone involved.
This isn’t just about ATG. It’s about a creeping culture of greed in commercial theatre. The kind that sees theatregoers as revenue streams to be squeezed, and workers as overheads are minimised. There’s no polite way to frame it.
ATG has always been a difficult company to like—one that built its name on unremitting unpleasantness as standard. One Olivier Award winning playwright privately compared its leadership style to “a silent-movie villain on a gap year from tying people to railway tracks.”
So yes: ATG. If theatre is to remain a living, breathing art form for everyone—not just a luxury for the few—we need to resist this drift toward elitism, upselling, and unfairness.
With so many hares now running on the broader ticketing industry—it’s hopeful to think we might finally be nearing meaningful regulation that serves the audience’s interests, so let’s all resolve to stay very, very angry about this one.
