Forgetting About The World: How To Start A Theater Company
In this life defined by hustle and struggle, starting a theater company can provide relief, understanding and the ultimate DIY coping mechanism.

In a hot, cramped room above a pub in north London a tiny stage is set. All that can be seen is a kitchen table with a few vegetables and a knife laid out. The words “Such is Life” are projected on the backdrop. Waiting nervously backstage is a handful of pretend lawyers, teachers and accountants taking last glimpses at their lines. In the audience of this proverbial pizza oven are the equally nervous friends and family members of the lawyers, teachers and accountants. Members of the audience sit contemplating positive things to say after the performance, in case it turns out to be, as is so often the case with amateur drama, a load of horse shit.
The lights go down, a hush descends and a woman in her late 20s with thick dark curls takes the stage and begins impatiently chopping vegetables. She is joined by another young woman, aged up to look like her mother, and they begin, in Spanish, to argue, niggle, chafe and otherwise irritate one another. Nothing is ever good enough for the mother and, as much as the daughter hates to admit it, all she wants is her approval.
Over the next hour there is roaring laughter from the audience, all that good stuff from the show—catharsis, mimesis, anagnorisis, etc.—and not even a whiff of the manure that the audience feared might be wafting from the stage after the curtain descended on their beloveds’ performance.
This scene took place last June at the Hen and Chickens pub theater in Islington. The thick curls belonged to Mercedes García, Madrid native and founder of La Movida Theatre Company (La Movida Teatro Londres).
La Movida puts on Spanish productions in the British capital; of its eight members, seven are from Spain and one is from Colombia. Such is Life was its debut production, and now, in the lead up to its second—La Paciencia, on at the Union Theatre, March 9 and 10—García speaks to SMATTER Magazine about the joy, pain and logistical juggling act of running a DIY theater company.
SMATTER Magazine: Your plays are in Spanish, but in this land we speak English. Why?
Mercedes García: I decided to make all the plays in Spanish, firstly because I refuse to live in a cultural monopoly in London where I can’t grow emotionally in my culture. And, secondly I want to create a little hub of familiarity for those who, like me, are far away from home.
SM: Who writes these plays? Please tell me something about how it all comes together…
MG: The writing process is totally collaborative. I write the plays in an open document so actors can adapt lines to each character’s way of speaking, or flag errors or plot holes. They’re also welcome to add their own monologues or scenes. Next I create a schedule of rehearsals and book a rehearsal room, which costs around £50 a week. Once we think we’re ready, we find a theater and sign a contract with them, provided they like our idea and are available for our dates.
SM: How is the balance between remuneration and stress when founding a theater company?
MG: We charge £14 for tickets, and the theater takes a small percentage. We don’t do this to earn money; any profit gets reinvested in the company. Then we need to make the artwork, find all the props, costumes, sort the electronics for the theater (lights, sound, projector for English subtitles). This is where you can end up spending a lot of money. Finally we print the posters and distribute them everywhere we can, also doing a social media campaign to promote the show. This part is honestly a drag but a necessary evil. Nothing ever goes according to schedule, so we end up running crazily around London to find last-minute bits and bobs; and organizing emergency rehearsals. The two weeks before a premier are madness. Without the right people beside you, you would lose your mind for sure.
SM: And these people… tell me about the sorts of people you want in the company.
MG: You must find talented and committed people, but also people you like spending time with. If you don’t like them as friends, it won’t work out. Things get intense and stressful sometimes, and you need to trust that people won’t talk shit behind each other’s backs, or leave the company the day before opening night. This is literally what our next play is about. There’s a real freedom in making art just for the fun of it, feeding off the creativity and energy that others bring to the table.
SM: Is it all worth it?
MG: Opening night was intense. You go through a million emotions in the ten seconds before curtain up. You feel your heart reaching your throat, trying to run away from your body. Your legs shake when you walk on stage, but once you’re there, you feel empowered by an indescribable energy. You become louder, more confident and more present. You notice your colleagues as never before, and you start really enjoying the moment. I had to control my laughter several times because I was having so much fun that I just wanted to cackle with the audience.
La Paciencia is showing at The Union Theatre, London on 9 and 10 March 2026 (Spanish with English subtitles). Tickets available here.