The Underdog's Playwright: John Godber at 70 and Still Championing the Unseen
There’s something profoundly moving about a writer who, at 70, remains as fiercely committed to the underdog as they were in their youth. John Godber, Yorkshire’s most prolific playwright, is one such figure. As he celebrates his seventh decade, his latest play, This Is The Life, isn’t just another addition to his 70-plus dramas—it’s a testament to his enduring belief in the power of storytelling to amplify the voices of those often overlooked.
What makes Godber’s work particularly fascinating is his ability to find drama in the mundane, the marginalized, and the seemingly insignificant. From my perspective, this isn’t just a stylistic choice; it’s a philosophy. Godber’s plays aren’t about kings and queens or the elite—they’re about the stage managers sitting in the dark, the amateur rugby teams struggling to field seven players, and the local theatres on the brink of closure. In This Is The Life, he turns his lens on the theatre itself, a space he’s called home for decades, and asks: Who are the real heroes here?
One thing that immediately stands out is Godber’s insistence on accessibility. He’s not writing for the West End crowds paying a week’s holiday worth of money for a ticket. No, his work is for the people of Hull, Wakefield, and beyond—ordinary folks who see themselves reflected in his characters. This raises a deeper question: In an age of skyrocketing ticket prices and arts funding cuts, who gets to tell stories, and who gets to hear them? Godber’s answer is clear: everyone.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply personal this mission is for him. Growing up in Upton, the son of a miner, Godber didn’t have the typical ‘tortured artist’ backstory. He had a loving family, a stable childhood, and yet, he was drawn to the struggles of others. Personally, I think this is what makes his work so powerful. It’s not born of personal suffering but of empathy—a rare quality in a world that often confuses pain with creativity.
A detail that I find especially interesting is Godber’s influence from George Steiner’s The Death of Tragedy. Steiner argued that modern audiences are no longer interested in the grand tragedies of royalty; they’re drawn to the quiet dramas of everyday life. Godber’s plays embody this shift. Whether it’s Bouncers or Up ‘n’ Under, his stories are about the people under the carpet, not the ones walking on it. This isn’t just theatre—it’s a manifesto.
If you take a step back and think about it, Godber’s career is a rebellion against elitism. His new play, set in a local theatre threatened by luxury flats, is a thinly veiled critique of neoliberalism. But what this really suggests is that Godber isn’t just writing about the arts; he’s writing about the soul of communities. When a theatre closes, it’s not just a building that’s lost—it’s a space for dreaming, for connecting, for being human.
What this really suggests is that Godber’s work is more relevant now than ever. In a world where inequality is widening and the arts are increasingly commodified, his plays are a reminder that stories matter. They matter for the stage managers, the rugby players, and the audiences who see themselves in those characters.
In my opinion, Godber’s greatest achievement isn’t his 70-plus plays or his OBE—it’s his unwavering commitment to the people he writes about. At 70, he’s still waking up early to work, still excited about his craft, and still fighting for the underdog. That, to me, is the definition of a true artist.
As This Is The Life prepares for its debut, I can’t help but wonder: What would our world look like if more writers followed Godber’s lead? If more stories were told about the unseen, the unheard, and the undervalued? Personally, I think it would be a far more interesting place.
So here’s to John Godber—a playwright who, at 70, is still daring to dream. And in doing so, he’s reminding us all that the underdog’s story is worth telling.
