How could this have happened? Journey’s End had been a big 2004 hit in London. When it transferred to Broadway, it earned rapturous reviews.

The show chronicles the lives of a handful of British soldiers enduring trench warfare in World War I. Explanations for its early demise ranged from “it just never found its audience” to “World War I doesn’t resonate with Americans like it does with the Brits.” I saw the show a few nights before it closed. If you ask me, Journey’s End failed because it forgot who its audience was.

Unlike Broadway musicals, which can command audiences from every age group, plays (“straight plays” in Broadway lingo) attract older theater-goers, typically a 50-ish Baby Boomer. After age 45, eyesight and hearing dim in even the healthiest people. The physical staging of Journey’s End could not have been more poorly aligned with the physical limitations of its target audience.

The set -- a dismal bunker lit by what appeared to be only a few candles – was dark and atmospheric. And while dramatically faithful, this made for extremely poor audience visibility. One critic wrote, “I doubt that there’s been a dimmer play on Broadway since they tore out the gaslights.”

It was equally challenging to hear the actors. The unrelieved gloom made it hard to see their faces, even from the orchestra seats, and lip-reading was impossible. On the night I attended roughly a quarter of the audience left at intermission, including my two companions. “Too dark,” “I can’t see what’s going on,” and “Can’t hear a thing the actors are saying” were the most common complaints. The line at the Acousta-Guide station during intermission was longer than the line at the ladies’ room.

Associated Press theater critic Michael Kuchwara says a good director will watch rehearsals from all over the theater to make sure the show can be “read” by audiences regardless of seating. He also acknowledged that critics saw Journey’s End from the very best seats in the house, meaning they did not experience the frustration of the viewer in the rear mezzanine. Adding insult to injury, the playgoer paid a lot of money for this disappointment.

The intermission exodus opened up many seats and I was able to move just five rows from the stage. There I saw an entirely different play – one whose power washed over me and whose shocking final tableau left the audience sobbing -- at least, those of us who were still there. What a difference a close-up makes.

Baby Boomers would rather change the dream than lose it. The brief run of Journey’s End proved that 50+ theatergoers would rather walk out on a show than endure the discomfort and frustration of not getting what they want and paid for – a full theatrical experience. What profiteth a producer if he gains the Tony but loses the audience?

Lauren Letellier