Has There Ever Been a Better (or Weirder) Time to Be a Theater Kid?

What is this feeling, so sudden, but not so new? The most-talked about movie in America is a musical, its choreography is viral on TikTok, and a Supreme Court Justice performed on Broadway last week. What is going on?

Wicked’s long-awaited release in theaters last month has launched (or re-launched) an all-out obsession unlike any other this year. People are crying in theaters and watching the film multiple times; they’re listening to the soundtrack so much it’s ranking on the Billboard chart; on TikTok, they’re recreating the “What Is This Feeling?” dance with stacks of books in hand; they’re singing and meme-ing previously innocuous lines like “Listen, Nessa?” and “We deserve each other, me and BOQ.” The aforementioned munchkin played by Ethan Slater even got his own lookalike contest. Meanwhile, the thirst for Jonathan Bailey has reached new heights. Then there’s the beast that was Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo’s tear-inducing, finger-grasping, space-holding press tour. And with Grande and Slater’s much scrutinized relationship, one of the most talked-about celebrity couples in Hollywood right now features two theater kids. Wickedmania is a juggernaut fueled by and for the thespians.

But those aren’t the only ways theater kids have infiltrated mainstream pop culture this year, and it hasn’t always been universally celebrated. The sequel to Joker, which starred Lady Gaga and Joaquin Phoenix, was a surprising jukebox musical that epically tanked; Emilia Pérez, the provocative musical about a transgender cartel boss, has received mixed reviews but is a solid awards contender with 10 Golden Globe nods. As The New York Times pointed out, It girls like Sabrina Carpenter and Reneé Rapp have embraced their theater kid roots (they’ve even both starred in versions of Mean Girls: The Musical and others). Back on the Great White Way, the Tony Awards Best Actress race is hotter than ever, with Nicole Scherzinger starring in a revival of Sunset Boulevard, Audra McDonald in Gypsy, Sutton Foster in Once Upon a Mattress, and Idina Menzel in Redwood. But Broadway attendance and grosses are still markedly lower than in past years, because of the damage the pandemic wrought. That means lesser-known originals, like Swept Away, face an even graver risk of closing.

It’s not only an exciting time to be a theater kid, it’s also a weird and confusing one. And it’s not like we haven’t seen theater in the mainstream and big screen before. Just think of In the Heights, Steven Spielberg’s West Side Story, the Hamilton craze, Les Misérables, The Greatest Showman, Smash, and, of course, Glee in recent decades. But this moment feels drastically different. Are we on the brink of the theater kid finally becoming cool? Or is this all just another way for studios to make money? Are people actually embracing the theater kid, or just theater kid culture and media?

To make sense of it all, three ELLE editors and theater kids (each in our own way) gathered ’round for a chat: associate editor Samuel Maude, our unofficial theater editor who runs our Showstoppers column; culture writer Lauren Puckett-Pope, whose formative love for plays and musicals nurtured her passion for storytelling and writing; and yours truly, who is somewhere in between, and who has survived an on-stage fire during a high school production of Cats. (I will never not bring this up.)

Erica Gonzales: Fellow current and former theater kids: Is it a good year to be a theater kid? Do we feel like we’re noticing an embrace, a renaissance, a rise, a comeback of sorts, especially in the year of Wicked?

Samuel Maude: Growing up, yes, theater kids were the weirdos, but there was a lot of theatrical content to be consumed, which made you feel like less of an outsider. Back in 2006, everyone loved High School Musical. Then Glee came in 2009, which was the quintessential moment to be a theater kid. Show choir had this huge boom in the Midwest. It was this phenomenon where it became almost okay to be a Gleek, to let your freak flag fly. “Loser Like Me”? I still stream that. That’s a rallying cry for the theater kids.

Smash came out in 2012. I remember my dad, who is Mr. Football and Beer, loving Smash. I feel like at that time, there was this theater kid moment, and then it passed. With the downfall of Glee came the rise of some, I think, poorly made movie musicals, and it became a little more derogatory to be a theater kid.

Lauren Puckett-Pope: Cheugy.

Sam: Cringe! But I think this moment is allowing people to embrace their theater kid again and maybe heal that inner child. Wicked, which came out in 2003, was so many people’s first step into the theater. If there was any moment to reinvigorate this base, it’s with this movie.

Idina Menzel as Elphaba and Kristin Chenoweth as Glinda at the 2004 Tony Awards.

While there’s never been a better time to be a theater kid, and there’s never been more access to musicals and theater, people are not going to the theater. People are going to the movie theaters to see Wicked. People aren’t coming to Broadway in ways they used to. I think part of that is because we haven’t had a show in recent history, in my mind, like Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, or Wicked, that brought people to New York. Broadway is in need of a massive hit.

Darren Criss said in our interview that the best IPs often are ones that started as original ideas. Hamilton is an example of that—it’s historical, but that was completely original. Dear Evan Hansen and Six are good examples of that too. I feel like this current Broadway model, like bringing Back to the Future or a known IP to the stage, is working and making money for a second, but then it’s petering out.

This is a weird time to be a theater kid because, yes, there’s so much theater to consume, but for most of it, you actually don’t have to leave your house. You can stream Emilia Pérez, but you probably won’t go to the theater to see a show right now.

Lauren: This question of whether it’s finally “cool” to be a theater kid… I don’t know if it’s the wrong question or if it’s simply that my answer is “no.” I don’t think it’s cool to be a theater kid in the same way that I still don’t think it’s cool to be a “nerd.” But the way we think about a nerd—a geek, a comic book fan, what have you—has changed dramatically in recent years as those franchises and genres have become so much more mainstream. I think theater itself has become much more mainstream and much more visible.

The mainstreaming can be a positive thing. But mainstreaming inevitably means something is lost. And then it becomes even more commercialized than it already was. Wicked, again, is a great example of that. Look at the absolute deluge of marketing material and this press tour. It’s like the Barbie movie last year. You can’t strip it from its context as a marketing behemoth at this point.

Erica: Mainstream gatekeepers, Hollywood studios, are just realizing that this is another profitable niche, the way that Netflix is making live-action anime, or Disney buying Marvel. It’s more that they’re seeing that it’s lucrative rather than this is cool.

Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande at the Los Angeles premiere of Wicked in November 2024.

Lauren: I’m not saying that theater isn’t cool or can’t be cool. I just don’t believe that suddenly, the perception of theater kids is now that they’re cool. I think theater kids have and always will be insufferable. [Laughs] And I say that as one.

There is a level to which theater kids are never going to be inseparable from that insufferability, the same way that a nerd or a geek is never quite inseparable from the outcast, dorky identity—even if the lived experience of one is different now than it was years ago. It takes a lot of social conditioning to remove those contexts completely.

I don’t think we’re seeing a total 180, but we are seeing a huge expansion of access and also acceptance that you can be insufferable and some people will be okay with that. Some people might even celebrate that! I don’t think that’s a good or bad thing, but I do think social media encourages insufferable behavior. So there’s a degree to which a lot of theater kids, in really positive ways and maybe some negative, have found their spaces and their people online and found that theater community. You see it with people recreating Wicked scenes. What’s the sound that just went viral the other day? “Nessa?”

Erica: Or, “They were popular… RIGHT!”

Lauren: I don’t even know if half the people doing these trends have any background in theater.

Erica: That’s also how I felt when “Rose’s Turn” [from the musical Gypsy] was going viral last summer. I was like, “You have no idea what you are singing…”

Lauren: I had that song memorized!

Erica: Social media is a huge, huge part of this mainstreamification, because in many ways, TikTok—as it does with any subject or obsession—does build a community. It makes you feel more connected to other people across the internet, but the people who hate theater kids have a voice too. And I saw so many creators ahead of Wicked be like, “If I hear any single one of you theater kids singing during this movie, prepare to get slapped.” The stigma is definitely not gone. We’re just more visible.

Sam: I feel the need to define some terms.

I think there’s a theater kid, there is an appreciator of theater, or there’s someone who can appreciate the theater. I think of my mom, who loves to go to a show, but couldn’t tell you who won the Tony Award this year.

Personally, I identify as a theater kid. I grew up in the theater. I didn’t like sports, which were the bread and butter at my school. The theater is where I found my community, and it’s where I spent my time. That’s a theater kid. It’s growing up in those spaces. It’s sitting in a circle and talking with people about what your favorite ballad is. (I did say “Dope” by Lady Gaga, but…) You know the players, you know the divas, like Audra McDonald and Sutton Foster. You have a wild fascination.

Audra McDonald on the opening night of Gypsy on December 19.

I do think there’s this other camp in my life of a theater gay, who is so committed to seeing every single show. Sunset Boulevard with Nicole Scherzinger was their Super Bowl. It was not mine. I think people would say I’m a part of that community, but I don’t feel like I am, because I don’t feel like theater is my gay life. I’m an appreciator in that sense.

There are a lot of different ways to define how someone feels about theater, and I think Wicked transcends the theater kids, the theater gays, and hits the appreciator and beyond. People who would never be in the St. James theater listening to Nicole Scherzinger, even the people who couldn’t dare to go see The Lion King on Broadway, are showing up for the Wicked movie. They’re showing up to see Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. They’re showing up because everyone’s talking about it. But if I went up to some people and said, “Have you seen Wicked?” And they were like, “Yes.” And I’d ask, “Who’s your favorite Elphaba?” They’d be like, “There’s more than one Elphaba?” I’d be like, “Oh, Jessica Vosk. Do you know her? Mandy Gonzalez? What?” This is a weird time where you can still feel a little bit who the theater kids are.

Erica: And I think they want you to know that. Because there are also a lot of passive-aggressive comments that I’ve seen since Wicked has come out being like, “This is something that theater kids have known since forever, smiley face.” There’s a possessiveness over it.

Lauren: And a protectiveness, too, for sure.

Erica: That’s really where it comes from, a love—and a fear that it will be exploited.

Lauren: But that doesn’t mean the community can’t also be toxic. Again, it’s the same way with nerd communities, the idea of like, “You’re not a real fan.” Or that feeling of, I’m trying to protect this niche that has been mine for so long, that has felt safe and, to some degree, homogeneous. And now it’s not.

Erica: I want to talk about that: theater as safety, theater as community, which I’m sure is why so many people gravitate toward it.

Sam: I grew up in community theater. It’s a tale as old as time: I was the kid who wasn’t into sports, was friends with all the girls, the little gay kid growing up. The two places I actually found solace were in the pages of a fashion magazine and in the theater. I went to practice every day after school; I was in this production of the children’s book How I Became a Pirate where I was the only kid and the rest were adults, and that was a very formative experience, because I got all their knowledge and wisdom.

When I talk to so many other theatergoers, actors, and actresses on Broadway now, where we often find community during our conversations is the fact that, for all of us, going to the theater feels like church in a way. Growing up Catholic, going to Catholic school, and being gay, I lost a lot of my religiosity. Where I feel most at peace and most at home is in the theater, with a community of people who are all ogling over a crazy high note or jamming out to dance tunes or crying at a very moving section.

Growing up gay in the Des Moines community playhouse with my mentor, Kathy Pingel, who I still talk to every few months, I never doubted I would be accepted or welcome there. Whereas in my Catholic school, I just wasn’t. To have that place in Des Moines, Iowa, where there was no judgment, where there were no worries, that was game-changing. That’s why I’m a theater kid, because for me, it was what I needed and what honestly formed me.

Lauren: Theater was one of the first places where I felt like I could step outside of myself, which was something that as a young person I was very interested in doing, because I was in my head about everything. [Laughs]

What I’ve always wanted to do was tell stories. I always wanted to be a writer; there was never really a point at which I was like, Oh, I want to be an actress. But what I did love about acting and singing was the ability to inhabit someone else’s reality for some amount of time—to get lost in the story. Similarly to Sam, the community that I grew up in in Missouri, as much as I love it, was relatively homogenous. And theater is where I met a lot of people who were different from me.

I had so many confidence and perfectionism issues back then that being able to play a character—in the specific way that you can in theater, where it is so over-the-top and sometimes silly—brought me a lot of joy and courage. I’ve had an interesting relationship with theater, in that I’ve moved past the time period in which I really needed it. I’m much more of a theater appreciator now, to use Sam’s term.

But I wouldn’t be who I am today if I had not done musical theater. To have that confidence, to see myself and others in that light, fundamentally changed me. And I think that’s true of all theater kids. Once a theater kid, always a theater kid, to some degree.

Erica: It’s in you somewhere.

Lauren: I think that’s why it’s theater “kid” and not necessarily theater “person.” When you specifically grew up as a young person in that community, it becomes a genuinely ineffable part of you.

Erica: That’s also why it feels so special right now with Wicked, because it does feel like a return to that time in your life, like healing your inner child. And it seems like we’re all watching Ariana Grande do that, too, as she plays Glinda.

In some ways, it could also be derogatory, that it’s child-ish because you’re singing and dancing in costumes on a stage for people. But that’s also the beauty of it at the same time. It’s as simple as playing pretend, and it’s still so special, moving, and communal.

Lauren: A big part of this is also: How much of this is a theater kid’s “renaissance,” and how much of it is simply the fact that we’re all stuck in an infinite nostalgia loop? Not to sound completely dismal.

Erica: Re-listening to the Wicked soundtrack and being able to watch more theater just because of this job has felt like a homecoming for me, too. I danced for eight years, and I loved to sing and act. Music was always just something that I was drawn to, and it just felt good. I started doing plays and musicals in middle school and high school, and I loved being around those people. That was what was most important to me. I tried playing volleyball, I had other friends, but when I would be at rehearsal, I was like, Oh, this is where I belong. But as much as it was a community for me, I also experienced a lot of racism from those people who I love, who were so supportive of me. It was also peak 2010s, I-can-say-this-because-we’re-friends type of humor. It was very not okay, looking back at it.

Toxicity can exist anywhere, in any niche. Like the controversy around Nicole Scherzinger post-election or Marissa Bode, who plays Nessarose, calling out Wicked fans for making ableist jokes about wheelchair users. There are problematic people and predators in every industry. It’s not perfect, but theater is still necessary as an art form, as a form of education, as community building, especially in this time and as we approach this upcoming presidential term.

Kevin McHale, Jenna Ushkowitz, Cory Monteith, Lea Michele, Chris Colfer, and Amber Riley in a 2010 episode of Glee.

I am interested to see where this whole zeitgeist takes us next. I saw this TikTok by Kylie Brakeman that was like, Do you think that we’re going to have a Glee revival? Or a revival of that type of person? I’ve been seeing a lot of compilations of the most unhinged moments from the show, or people who are re-watching it right now. I wonder if it’ll take us in an unhinged direction once again, just as we’re seeing a lot of 2010s trends, from skinny jeans to indie sleaze, get revived right now.

Sam: Glee is having a huge comeback.

Lauren: But do you think it’s going to get rebooted?

Sam: Oh my God, if that happens, I will actually lose my mind (derogatory).

Lauren: Maybe someday being a theater kid will be cool. Some day.

Sam: But because theater is where the weirdos go, I think if it became super cool, it wouldn’t be the same.

This interview has been edited and condensed.