“THE future of our industry relies on universal access to creative outlets for young people,” says Isobel McArthur, writer and director of Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of), during rehearsals.

Photo credit: Mihaela Bodlovic 

McArthur and I meet three years after our first encounter at Holy Innocents, a rehearsal space above a church in Chiswick, where the company of the popular twist on the Jane Austen classic Pride and Prejudice (*sort of)—produced by David Pugh, Cunard & Newcastle Theatre Royal —is rehearsing.

“Life is unpredictable, unbelievable,” she says, laughing. “The amount of rug pulls, sudden changes, and things I could never have imagined: they all happened. I should still be pulling pints at the bar; none of this makes sense.”

This inventive show started its first national tour in late 2019 and early 2020. Fast forward through a global pandemic, and the show transferred to the West End in 2021—during difficult Covid-19 restrictions. It went on to win the Olivier Award for Best Entertainment or Comedy Play.

Now, Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of) is on a UK tour, scheduled to visit Northampton, Chelmsford, Wolverhampton, Nottingham, Shrewsbury, Bath, Aberdeen, Canterbury, Lichfield, Leeds, Southampton, and more. I caught the show again recently at Newcastle Theatre Royal, and am happy to report that the entire production canters along like a thoroughbred racehorse; It’s an invigorating ride.

Does it get harder following success in terms of people expecting things? “Massively,” she says. “‘Success can make life easier in some ways. It might bring in more work. But with that comes enormous pressure. The notion of the ‘difficult second album’ bares out.”

“I would hope anybody reading this knows that shows are good because they win awards,” says McArthur. “And artists aren’t less valid if they don’t. If awards count for anything, it’s because of the real-world impact on the professionals involved – our chances of further employment increase, bills can be paid. But whether any play is good – the general public decide that, live, watching it.”

McArthur completed an undergraduate degree in Scottish literature at the University of Glasgow, followed by an MA in acting at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. “When it comes to rules for theatre-making, I’m cautious. There’s good practice of course – and there’s wisdom that comes from experience. But we create a problem when we suggest there’s a rulebook because the question becomes “Who has it? And who doesn’t?” Enough people perceive an exclusivity around theatre and plays as it is.”

She perceives a strong sense of impostor syndrome in the theatre industry. She believes that during the creative process, rules tend to create the most formulaic art: audiences don’t want to watch that: “they want a degree of unpredictability,” she says. 

“The only rule I would take as essential for any process like this is absolutely respecting every single person that you’re working with and cultivating an atmosphere of kindness and mutual support,” says McArthur.

“‘We are all in service to the show and to the audience and that must be the only real rule to follow,” says McArthur. “‘When making art, it’s usually when you start to impose too many rules that the imagination is suffocated. I remember sitting down and thinking, ‘What’s the formula?’ If I can figure that out, I’ll be able to make great plays for the rest of my life’, you think. But it doesn’t work like that. Notions of our person success, of earning money, of our egos – these things all alienate us from our creativity. We just need to want to create. We have to go back to basics.”

“One of the things about swearing is that you might say it can offend some people in the audience. In all the places of working-class conversation—whether schools, factories, or households—swearing takes place, and it’s not violent. It’s always self-deprecating. And it’s artful. Nobody ever swears at someone else; they tend to say things like ‘‘F*** me, my life’s a mess!” or “‘Jesus, this is a disaster.’”

What, I ask, will success look like for this tour? “Having new audiences see the show who might have felt a bit tentative about seeing period work or costume dramas. I’d love to reach a new generation of audiences who were maybe a bit too young to see it the first time around. And we are going to visit some theatres that we’ve never played before and reach communities that we haven’t engaged with before.”

These are trying times for regional and touring theatre. For instance, it’s hard to escape a strong thread of doom, with widespread cuts to arts funding, a decline in creative subjects in state schools, and recent research showing that arts subjects account for the smallest proportion of A-level entries since 2010.

“The arts are essential, not just for mental health and emotional well-being, or for their social lives, but also for their futures.” She shakes her head slowly. “Without access to theatre in state schools, we’re going to leave so many bright young people behind. Pride and Prejudice isn’t brilliant because posh people are fascinating. It’s brilliant because those same high-status people are deeply flawed – and no one is better placed to expose their hypocrisy, their ugliness, their absurdity, than the lower classes,” says McArthur.

What’s next? “I have two new big, exciting projects. One of which is a new musical with original songs; all the work I have done previously was with existing songs. This will be the first time we have worked on all new compositions, and that is an adaptation of a brilliant Mancunian novel. I have another project that will see me going abroad.”

She is refreshingly straightforward about maintaining focus under pressure. “I am extremely grateful to get to do this for a job. Keep the heid,” she explains is a Scottish phrase meaning stay calm – “It really isn’t a matter of life or death.”

Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of) is at Northampton until 5 October, then visiting Chelmsford, Wolverhampton, Nottingham, Shrewsbury, York, Guildford, Poole and more throughout 2025. Further stops are still to be announced.