At the end of the line

Barely a play is performed or film screened without a mobile phone interrupting it. Now, thanks to a new ruling, technology can help, but at a price, writes Anna Carey.

Just a few years ago the most annoying thing that theatre audiences were likely to do was rustle their sweet wrappers too loudly. But the rise and rise of the mobile phone has changed all that. Even though virtually all theatres ask patrons to turn off their mobiles before performances begin, ring tones still echo through auditoriums all over the country, as does the beeping of text messages and even the muttered conversations of phone users who just can't wait to make a call. All of which is why theatre-goers who don't turn their phones off have become sources of serious irritation to fellow audience members and performers alike.

"Mobile phones have become a nightmare," says the actor and director Alan Stanford. "There's hardly a performance where one doesn't go off." Whether a play is a tragedy or a riotous comedy, a phone call can crush the mood. "It's bad enough when you're doing a quiet and intense play, but I'm now doing a comedy, and that can be even worse," says Stanford. "Comedy is hard work, and actors have to build up an audience carefully to a peak when they'll laugh. But all it takes is one phone going off and the laugh is dead. The effect of the play is destroyed."

Stanford says that the use of phones during stage performances goes against everything theatre stands for. "The theatre depends on the wilful suspension of disbelief," he says. "You're sitting in a roomful of people and we're trying to convince you that you're somewhere else. We have to get you to the point where you're willing to suspend your disbelief. And if a phone rings that's all gone. The play just becomes actors on a stage again. There could be 300 or 1,000 people in a theatre who have paid good money to see [ it], and the selfishness of one person can destroy that evening's entertainment."

Sometimes actors fight back from the stage. During a London performance of The Iceman Cometh Kevin Spacey told an audience member whose phone was ringing to "tell them we're busy". At a production of Alan Bennett's History Boys at the Royal National Theatre, in London, an actor stopped the performance and sternly asked an audience member whose phone had rung six times to leave the theatre.And, three years ago, the pianist András Schiff walked off stage during a performance at Edinburgh International Festival when the noise of phones became too distracting. The Scotsman's critic sympathised with the pianist. "It was Fantasia in C Minor with mobile phone accompaniment," wrote Katie Grant.

Others have used the disruption to their advantage, among them Alan Hughes of TV3, a veteran pantomime performer who's starring in Beauty And The Beast at Liberty Hall, in Dublin, this Christmas. "The thing about doing panto is, because it's so frenetic, [ a phone going off] doesn't necessarily disturb the performance," he says. The interactive nature of pantomime means that a ringing phone can be incorporated into the comedy. "We pick the person out of the audience and make a show of them," Hughes laughs. "We call at them to answer the phone and ask if the person ringing them couldn't get into the show. You can make it a whole scene. It works so well that we're tempted to plant someone in the audience with a phone so when it rings we can get them to answer it and see who it is."

Such high jinks work well in panto but not, sadly, in the likes of Waiting For Godot. Virtually every theatre displays notices asking patrons to turn off their phones, but the Gate in Dublin is one of those in which a member of staff comes out before performances to ask in person. Michael Colgan, the theatre's artistic director, believes this is necessary but wishes it weren't. "If you're having a party and there's a great atmosphere, you don't want someone standing up and making an announcement. It kills the atmosphere," he says. "And that's what happens when someone tells everyone to turn their phones off. I think that's the worst thing about mobile phones: they just kill the buzz."

Even when a theatre's initial warning is obeyed, audiences may forget it quickly. John Costigan, executive director of the Gaiety in Dublin, says: "Phones ring much more often in the second half of performances. People turn their phones off before the show starts, but then they turn them back on at the interval and forget to turn them off again." And most theatre directors agree that the most annoying culprits are the people who let their phones ring out rather than answer them, in the hope that nobody will realise that they're the ones who forgot to turn off their phones.

In most cases a ringing phone is just the result of forgetfulness. But some theatre- and cinema-goers believe they shouldn't have to turn their phones off, in case there's an emergency at home. "If there was a problem with the kids I would definitely want to know about it then," one parent told a BBC radio show. But Costigan doesn't believe mobiles are necessary in such circumstances. "If people may need to be contacted, they can ask the babysitter to ring the theatre rather than their mobiles in case of an emergency," he says. "Then, before the performance starts, they can tell the staff that there may be a call for them and that, if there is, they're sitting in such-and-such a seat."

But there may be hope for disgruntled actors and theatre-goers alike. Last year the Commission for Communications Regulation deemed that any device that blocked mobile-phone signals and other radio waves was illegal under the 1926 Wireless Telegraphy Act, as it would jam anything from a walkie-talkie to RTÉ 1.

ComReg has now permitted the use of interceptors, however, because, as their name suggests, instead of blocking all signals they intercept mobile-phone calls, diverting them to voicemail, while allowing through calls to emergency and other specific numbers. These interceptors, however, are much more expensive than blockers, and theatres must decide whether they're worth the investment. "We've looked into the cost of the equipment, and you're talking €150,000- €200,000," says Brian Jackson, managing director of the Abbey.

"Given the current cost, it's just not a realistic option at the moment. We'll just have to keep asking people politely to turn off their phones."

Many actors and audience members hope that interceptors will eventually become the norm. "Most people do turn their phones off. But there will always be people who are just too ignorant or too selfish to do so," says Stanford. "We can't get to the point where we're frisking people on their way in and taking their phones off them, so the only solution is to make their phones ineffective."

Failing that, Stanford jokes that venues should beat persistent phone users at their own game. "I would love to walk into their places of work when they're concentrating hard and just let off a klaxon horn next to their ear," he says. "Let's see how well they concentrate on their job then."

And let's also remember that, no matter how annoying mobiles are, audience-generated noise has been around for a lot longer than polyphonic ringtones. "Yes, I've been at plays where a ringing phone has killed the evening," says the Gate's Michael Colgan. "But I've also been at plays which were killed by a cough."