While most of us have been busy losing our marbles over things like hate marches and David Cameron’s Grant Mitchell-esque return to frontline politics, an equally disturbing story evaded the attention of almost everybody. Bob Moran, a renowned political cartoonist well-known for navigating life with an irreverent spirit and erect middle finger, faced the abrupt cancellation of his live show by the venue slated to host it in just two months’ time. Why? Because the cava-quaffing, caviar-gorging snobs in charge realised his views don’t quite align with theirs.
Alas, the Tyne Theatre & Opera House is the latest snowflake sanctuary to proudly unfurl its delicate, frosty feathers. Online, its bosses boast about it being a ‘theatre for everyone’, though their definition of ‘everyone’ appears to be about as narrow as a TikToker’s dance repertoire.
Moran’s previous ‘ART-POCALYPSE’ show at the Bloomsbury Theatre & Studio in London was a sell-out and received a standing ovation – and as far as I’m aware, no one exited clutching a manifesto while sporting a beret having just joined an avant-garde revolution. Yet, in a move as bewildering as the cat who can solve a Rubik’s Cube, the Tyne Theatre pulled the plug on the show’s Northern instalment. Their cancellation statement was so staggeringly vague it could be mistaken for a cryptic crossword clue, flinging accusations of ‘discrimination’ around with all the precision of a blindfolded archer aiming for a bullseye on Mars.
The chief executive of this woke asylum, Mr Jonathan Higgins, wrote: “Any public views that could be interpreted as being discriminatory against groups based on their identity directly contradicts our values as a venue.” Now, if he managed to write that with a straight face, I need the name of his emotion coach because I could use some lessons in masking my incredulity.
Surely cancelling a show because the artist dares to harbour opinions that don’t conform to the woke orthodoxy is, in fact, discrimination based on identity? It’s a declaration so dripping in sanctimony that you could practically wring out a bottle of moral superiority from the paper it’s printed on.
Moran’s ‘ART-POCALYPSE’ show is, according to the man himself, nothing more than a jamboree of cartoons, satire, love, family, principles, and the sacred right to free thought – a carnival of ideas that hardly sounds like a breeding ground for hatred. Unlike, say, the streets of central London on any given Saturday.
Moran, arms thrown up in confusion, is left wondering which of his viewpoints triggered the banhammer. No one at the theatre, not Higgins nor any other social justice warrior on the payroll, deigned to clarify – leaving Moran, and by extension, the rest of us, scratching our heads.
It could be one of a few things. In the grand gallery of Moran-induced controversies, we have his Covid-19 comments in which he labelled those who took the jab as being ‘dangerously misguided’, among other things. Divisive? Yes. Provocative? Sure. But he’s certainly not the only artist to have pirouetted on that stage and he’s entitled to his own take on the matter.
Then came his Twitter feud with senior NHS physician Rachel Clarke, who he suggested was deserving of ‘verbal abuse’ for her staunch defence of the face mask mandate – a spat that led to him getting the chop from his job at The Telegraph. It’s worth noting that prior to his sacking, Moran released a full and frank apology for his impassioned and clearly impulsive remarks about Clarke. But it’s no longer enough to own-up and apologise when you realise you’ve crossed a line. No, now you must pay with your career.
The show’s cancellation could also be down to the Media Diversity Institute, a cretinous crew so adept at finding offence they could probably spot it in a bowl of alphabet spaghetti. Wagging their accusatory finger at Moran, they deemed his ‘Shwabtopus’ cartoon to be anti-Semitic. An interpretation as subjective as trying to reach a consensus with the wife on what colour you should paint the spare bedroom walls.
Anyway, whatever the reason, the Tyne Theatre head honcho’s were initially happy to host Moran’s show and then suddenly slammed the brakes. So what gives? Did they discover Google and decide to put it to use? Or did they receive a flurry of complaints from easily offended patrons, armed with keyboards and a knack for outrage? Who knows, but here’s a thought – if an artist, performer, whoever, rubs you up the wrong way, you could always just… not buy a ticket?
I’m not the president of the Greta Thunberg fan club, but if she was giving a speech nearby, I wouldn’t feel the need to file a formal complaint in an attempt to prevent it. I’d probably just grumble about it over a pint of Guinness down the pub. But I digress.
The emerging pattern here is clearer than one of Moran’s unfiltered illustrations: once you’re in the woke mob’s crosshairs, the onslaught rarely ceases until you find yourself face down in the proverbial ditch.
As is often the case, the issue transcends Moran; it’s a grim omen of cancel culture looming large over the arts. We’re headed for a future where only art aligning with approved narratives is tolerated. In a country still grappling with the pandemic’s aftermath, economic uncertainty and political upheaval, venues like the Tyne Theatre should be welcoming shows that stimulate a bit of critical thinking and open dialogue. But instead, they throw in the towel and embrace the seductive dance of ideological groupthink, akin to the Brent-like boss we’ve all had who starts using phrases like ‘touch base’ and ‘action that’ as a means of masking the fact they’re a total misfit and startlingly incompetent.
It saddens me to witness a time when art, once considered sacrosanct free speech, is now subject to the capricious whims of those who hold the reins of our cultural institutions. The Tyne Theatre’s decision to axe Moran’s show is not just a blow to artistic freedom; it’s a glaring symptom of a broader societal malaise where defiant voices are gagged and conformity is valorised.
It’s imperative for these venues to start untangling personal opinions from the fabric of artistic creation. The Tyne Theatre’s choice establishes a precarious precedent, suggesting that an artist’s complete body of work can be evaluated and suppressed based solely on the grounds of their personal beliefs.
As we navigate these tumultuous waters, the very soul of creativity is at stake, and we teeter on the brink of a cultural precipice. Surrendering the canvas to self-appointed arbiters of righteousness threatens to reduce our artistic landscape to a monotonous, sanitised terrain, devoid of the vibrant clashes that define true expression.
Artistic freedom is not some trivial privilege but an urgent mandate. A call to arms against the thought police dictating what is and isn’t acceptable in creative discourse. Our canvas, adorned with its unruly, messy, and diverse array of voices, must persist as a lively battleground for ideas and the questioning of authority, rather than succumbing to the passive fate of being whitewashed by the arbitrary brushstrokes of woke.
Defending artists like Moran is more than an act of mere rebellion; it’s a stand for the very essence of free speech, a fundamental right that should rise above the fleeting trends of this modern-day cultural dogma.
In the face of such tyranny, we must rally against the forces that seek to stifle innovation and dissent. Artists must stand united to drown out the sanctimonious censors, ensuring their profession remains a defiant celebration of varied perspectives, unshackled by the constraints of conformity. The battle for artistic freedom is now, and it’s a battle we can ill afford to lose.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to buy a ticket.
The Column 
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