Rupert Goold is the shot in the arm that the Old Vic needs

Under Rupert Goold, the Almeida has gone from strength to strength
Under Rupert Goold, the Almeida has gone from strength to strength - Alan Chapman/Dave Benett/Getty Images

It was announced today that Rupert Goold will be taking over the Old Vic from 2026. Currently artistic director of the Almeida in north London, Goold is, to my mind, the best of his kind in the country, and the Old Vic, which has had to deal with allegations of harassment and sexual misconduct against the former creative head Kevin Spacey (Spacey has denied any wrongdoing, and was cleared of all charges), and with a revolution from its young directors’ programme over the staging of Terry Gilliam’s Into the Woods, is lucky to have him.

The proof, of course, is in the pudding. Since Goold joined in 2014, the Almeida has gone from strength to strength. There have been the blockbuster hits such as King Charles III, A Streetcar Named Desire (starring Paul Mescal) and Andrew Scott’s Hamlet – all of which have transferred to the West End. Then I can think of several that have been underpraised, including a musical adaptation of Pawel Pawlikowski’s Cold War. Under Goold, the venue has proved to be king of the small theatrical powerhouses; has courted stars and made stars; reimagined classics to magnificent effect, and provided a space for important new work.

Most importantly, the Almeida has – at least to the outside world – risen above the identity politics that have had a ruinous effect on theatre since 2020. When you think about the multiple issues at venues such as the Royal Court, Goold has managed to keep everything in Islington calm and professional. Unlike other theatres and their Arts Council England-pleasing press releases about dreary-sounding upcoming activities, you get the sense that, at the Almeida, the play really is the thing.

But Goold, now 52, is going to have his work cut out. The Old Vic receives no public subsidy, and has more than 1,000 seats to fill, compared to the Almeida’s 325. It has certainly turned a corner this year, with several productions (notably a splendid transfer of Sophie Treadwell’s Machinal) exciting the critics, but it still feels in need of a singular vision. Goold, both cerebral and a populist, certainly has the chops to reignite a once-great theatrical institution. Next stop, I sincerely hope, is the National Theatre.