Theatre Superstitions and Their Meanings
If you ever find yourself backstage at a theatre, there are a few things you might want to avoid. Don’t whistle. Don’t wish an actor good luck. Think carefully before bringing peacock feathers onto the stage, and whatever you do, don’t casually say Macbeth unless you’re actually rehearsing or performing it.
Theatre superstitions can sound ridiculous until you realise how seriously some performers still take them. An actor who happily walks under a ladder outside might refuse to say the name of Shakespeare’s Scottish tragedy inside a theatre. Someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts might still make sure the ghost light is switched on before everyone leaves for the night.
Some of these beliefs grew out of genuine dangers backstage. Others are harder to explain and have been passed between actors for so long that nobody can say exactly where they began. They aren’t identical around the world either. British and American performers say “break a leg,” French actors have a much less polite alternative, Australian performers say “chookas,” and one famous Japanese ghost play has its own curse that actors are still careful about.
Why is the theatre so superstitious?
A live performance gives you plenty to worry about. Lines can disappear from your head, scenery can fail, props can break, costumes can rip, lights can go wrong and another actor can miss a cue. Once the curtain goes up, you can’t stop everything and start again.
Older theatres were considerably more dangerous than modern ones too. Open flames, heavy scenery hanging above the stage, complicated ropes and poorly lit backstage areas gave people very real reasons to be cautious. A practical warning could easily turn into a superstition after it had been repeated for a few generations.
There’s another side to it as well. Acting means pretending that something is real when everyone knows it isn’t. You create ghosts, murders, witches and disasters onstage and then walk backstage when the scene is over. It’s probably not surprising that theatre people developed their own rules about where the pretending ends.
Why can’t you say Macbeth in a theatre?
This is the theatre superstition you’re most likely to know even if you’ve never been backstage. Saying Macbeth inside a theatre is supposed to bring bad luck to the production. Instead, people call it “the Scottish Play.”
The rule usually applies when you say the name unnecessarily. If you’re rehearsing the play, performing it or actually need to discuss the character, you’re not expected to spend the entire production finding creative ways around the word.
The stories explaining the curse are much more dramatic than the evidence. One popular tale says Shakespeare used genuine witches’ spells in the play and offended a coven, who then cursed it. Another says the boy playing Lady Macbeth died during the first production and Shakespeare had to take over the role himself.
There’s no good evidence for either story. In fact, the Royal Shakespeare Company dates the superstition itself to the nineteenth century, which is rather late for a curse supposedly hanging over the play since its first performances around 1606.
That hasn’t stopped real disasters being added to the legend. The RSC records some of the accidents and incidents that became part of the Macbeth curse. Laurence Olivier narrowly avoided a falling stage weight during an Old Vic production in 1937, and Diana Wynyard fell from the stage during a 1948 performance at Stratford.
The most serious event usually mentioned happened in New York in 1849. Rival supporters of American actor Edwin Forrest and British actor William Charles Macready clashed during Macready’s performance of Macbeth at the Astor Place Opera House. More than twenty people were killed. That was a real historical riot rather than evidence of a supernatural curse, but once a play already has an unlucky reputation, events like that tend to stay attached to it.
What do you do if you accidentally say Macbeth?
You can apparently fix it, although actors don’t all agree on how.
One version tells you to leave the theatre, turn around three times, spit or pretend to spit, swear and then knock on the door before somebody lets you back inside. Other companies have their own variations. The important thing seems to be that you can’t just say the forbidden word and carry on as though nothing happened.
The Royal Shakespeare Company records the going-outside, turning and spitting remedy, although plenty of actors ignore the superstition completely. RSC director Gregory Doran famously told his cast during a 1999 production that they could say Macbeth as much as they liked. The production was successful and nobody was struck down by the curse.
Why do actors say break a leg instead of good luck?
If you’re about to perform, being told “good luck” is supposedly the last thing you need. Theatre superstition says that openly wishing for good luck can jinx the performance and produce exactly the opposite.
So you wish for something bad instead. “Break a leg” sounds horrible, but in theatre it means exactly what “good luck” would mean anywhere else.
You’ll find plenty of confident explanations for where the phrase came from. One says the “leg” is a side curtain and an actor who breaks past it has made it onto the stage. Another says successful actors bent their legs repeatedly while taking bows. There’s even a story connecting the expression with John Wilkes Booth breaking his leg after assassinating Abraham Lincoln at Ford’s Theatre.
The problem is that none of those stories has been proved. The expression appears surprisingly late in the historical record. Wordorigins traces the earliest clear theatrical example to Edna Ferber’s 1939 autobiography. The exact reason actors settled on a broken leg remains uncertain.
What we do know is that the idea behind it is much older than the phrase itself. Directly praising your luck or confidently predicting success has long been treated as risky in superstition. The theatre just developed its own particularly alarming way of avoiding it.
Other countries have their own ways of avoiding good luck
“Break a leg” is familiar in Britain, Canada and the United States, but it isn’t the only thing performers say before going onstage.
France prefers merde
In French theatre, saying bonne chance can be avoided for the same reason English-speaking actors avoid “good luck.” Instead, you say merde.
The usual explanation takes you back to audiences arriving at the theatre in horse-drawn carriages. A large amount of horse manure outside meant plenty of carriages had arrived, which meant plenty of people were inside buying tickets. The Comédie-Française still explains the expression this way.
You’re not traditionally supposed to reply with “thank you” either. That could undo the luck you’ve just been given.
Versions of the same expression are also used in Spanish-speaking theatre, where you can hear mucha mierda. Once again, saying something that sounds terrible is safer than directly asking fortune to be kind.
German-speaking performers have toi toi toi
German-speaking theatre and opera have another alternative. Before a performance, you might hear toi, toi, toi, sometimes accompanied by knocking on wood or the gesture of spitting over someone’s shoulder.
The expression existed outside the theatre before performers adopted it. The University of Graz’s German Word Treasures project describes it as an old protective expression connected with warding off bad luck. One explanation treats the repeated sound as an imitation of spitting, which has a much wider history as a way of protecting yourself against harmful forces.
If that sounds familiar after reading about the evil eye, it should. Pretend spitting appears in several protective traditions that have nothing to do with the theatre.
Italian performers can send you into the wolf’s mouth
In Italy, you may be wished in bocca al lupo, meaning “into the mouth of the wolf.” It’s another case of wishing someone towards danger rather than tempting fate with a straightforward promise of good luck.
The expression isn’t limited to theatre today, but the Accademia della Crusca traces its protective meaning to much older Italian folk speech. The traditional reply is crepi, short for a response meaning that the wolf should die.
Australians say chookas
If you’re performing in Australia, you might get a cheerful “chookas” instead.
The Australian Ballet describes chookas as its equivalent of break a leg and admits that nobody knows the origin for certain. One popular story says a packed theatre meant performers would earn enough to afford chicken for dinner. A good audience therefore meant “chook,” Australian slang for chicken, and somehow that eventually became “chookas.”
It’s a great origin story, but even the Australian Ballet treats it as uncertain, which is exactly how it should be presented. Theatre folklore is full of explanations that sound convincing because they’ve been repeated for years, not because somebody has actually proved them.
Why is whistling backstage bad luck?
Whistling backstage is another rule that has survived long after the practical reason for it disappeared. Older theatres used complicated systems of ropes to raise and lower scenery. Stagehands often had maritime experience because sailors already knew how to work with ropes, knots and pulleys. Whistled signals could be used to communicate cues.
If you wandered backstage whistling a tune of your own, somebody could mistake it for an instruction. That wasn’t just irritating. It could result in a piece of scenery moving when an actor was standing underneath it.
The Shakespeare Theatre Company explains how whistle cues were used backstage and how the genuine safety concern eventually became a theatrical superstition.
Modern crews have headsets, lighting systems and much safer rigging, but the rule remains. If you have an irresistible urge to whistle a show tune, backstage is still probably the wrong place to do it.
Why do theatres leave a ghost light on?
Walk into an otherwise empty theatre after everyone has gone home and you may find one bare bulb standing alone in the middle of the stage. That’s the ghost light.
It has a very sensible job. A dark theatre is full of things you don’t want to discover with your shins, and an orchestra pit is considerably easier to avoid when you can see where the stage ends.
Then theatre folklore got involved.
One belief says every theatre has a ghost and the light keeps troublesome spirits away. Another says almost the opposite. The light is left on so the ghosts can use the stage while the living performers are gone. Give them somewhere to perform and they won’t interfere with tomorrow night’s show.
Playbill describes both versions of the Broadway ghost-light superstition, alongside its much more practical use as a safety light.
That practical explanation matters. The light itself is real, but leaving it on doesn’t prove anyone expects a dead actor to appear for an after-hours performance. Plenty of theatres keep the tradition without taking the ghost story literally.
Peacock feathers aren’t welcome on every stage
Peacock feathers are beautiful enough to look as though they belong in a theatre costume, but stage superstition says they can bring bad luck.
The problem is the eye-shaped pattern at the end of the feather. It has been compared with the evil eye, turning something decorative into a symbol that could supposedly bring jealousy, accidents or trouble to the production.
The Royal Shakespeare Company includes peacock feathers among objects traditionally considered unlucky onstage. Real jewellery and real money have also appeared on lists of things actors would rather keep away from a performance.
The peacock doesn’t have a negative meaning everywhere, of course. It has important and often favourable religious symbolism in several cultures. This is specifically a theatrical superstition attached to the feather in parts of Western stage tradition, not a universal meaning of peacocks.
Mirrors can be unlucky on stage too
A real mirror onstage has two problems. Superstition already gives mirrors an awkward reputation, and theatre lighting gives them another one.
Actors could carry the familiar fear that a broken mirror brings bad luck into the theatre with them. Other stories treat mirrors as objects capable of trapping souls or giving spirits a way into the room.
Then there’s the practical problem. A badly positioned mirror can reflect a spotlight into the audience, reveal part of the backstage area that nobody is supposed to see or make the lighting designer’s evening considerably more difficult.
The RSC records mirrors among traditionally unlucky stage objects while also pointing out the practical lighting problems they cause. So if a production avoids real mirrors, it doesn’t necessarily mean the cast is worried about ghosts.
Three burning candles are supposed to bring trouble
One older theatre superstition says you should never have three burning candles onstage at the same time. In one version, whoever stands closest to the shortest candle will be the first person to die.
The origin isn’t clear, although candles were dangerous enough without adding a curse. Theatres repeatedly burned down in the centuries before electric lighting, and fire could spread through wooden buildings, curtains and scenery very quickly.
The RSC includes the three-candle warning among longstanding theatrical superstitions and points to the very real history of theatre fires as one possible reason people became wary of unnecessary flames.
Three already has a long history of symbolic meanings outside the theatre too. If you’re interested in how numbers pick up their own layers of folklore and symbolism, you can explore the number meanings section as well.
A terrible dress rehearsal can supposedly be good news
If the final rehearsal is a complete disaster, somebody will probably tell you that means opening night is going to be brilliant.
This is less of a warning and more of a reassuring omen. A bad dress rehearsal is supposed to predict a successful first performance.
There’s no reliable historical origin for the belief. The Broadway Direct guide to theatrical superstitions notes that nobody really knows where it began, while the RSC suggests the promise of a good opening might simply help a nervous cast recover after a dreadful final run-through.
There could even be a practical reason it sometimes feels true. A bad rehearsal gives everyone a very clear list of what needs fixing. By opening night, people are concentrating harder because nobody wants a repeat of whatever happened the evening before.
Don’t give an actor flowers before the performance
Giving someone flowers after a performance is completely normal. Giving them before they’ve performed is another matter.
One theatrical superstition says flowers should never be presented before the show because you’re rewarding success before it has actually happened. In other words, you’ve tempted fate by acting as though the performance has already gone well.
Broadway Direct records the rule against pre-show flowers along with a much stranger tradition at the other end of a production. A director could supposedly be given a bouquet taken from a graveyard after the show closed.
That “graveyard bouquet” was considered lucky and fitted the idea that the production itself had now died. There was probably a financial advantage too. Actors historically weren’t always well paid, and flowers growing in a cemetery were cheaper than buying an impressive bouquet.
The superstition is interesting, although hopefully helping yourself to somebody else’s grave flowers is one part of the tradition that stays firmly in the past.
Why is green unlucky in French theatre?
Colour superstitions change depending on where you perform. Green has had a particularly bad reputation in French theatre.
A famous legend connects it with Molière. The story says he was wearing green during his final performance of Le Malade Imaginaire, and the colour became unlucky after his death.
The Comédie-Française still records the Molière explanation as a deeply rooted theatrical legend, but it also makes clear that several explanations have been proposed and there isn’t a definitive answer.
That distinction matters because the story is often repeated online as settled history. It’s folklore surrounding a famous actor, not proof that one unfortunate green costume created the superstition overnight.
Other theatrical colour warnings include blue and yellow, although these have never been followed everywhere. A colour that worries one company might appear on another stage every night without anybody giving it a second thought.
Japan has its own cursed play
Macbeth isn’t the only play performers have treated cautiously. Japanese theatre has a famous curse of its own surrounding Tōkaidō Yotsuya Kaidan, usually shortened to Yotsuya Kaidan.
The kabuki ghost story was first performed in Edo, now Tokyo, in 1825. Its central figure is Oiwa, a woman betrayed and poisoned by her husband who returns as a terrifying vengeful spirit. The play became one of Japan’s most famous ghost stories and has been adapted repeatedly for theatre, film and television.
The superstition says a production risks accidents or other misfortune if Oiwa isn’t treated with proper respect. Actors and production teams working on versions of the story have traditionally visited a grave associated with Oiwa and asked for her blessing before going ahead.
Nippon.com describes visiting Oiwa’s grave as a tradition among actors involved in stage and film versions of her story, with the warning that failing to pay respects is supposed to lead to injury or worse.
It has obvious similarities with the Macbeth curse. A frightening play develops a reputation for real-world misfortune, accidents become evidence that the curse is working, and performers inherit a rule for keeping themselves safe. The details are Japanese, but the way the superstition survives is surprisingly familiar.
Theatre superstitions don’t need to be believed to survive
You could work in theatre for years without believing that Macbeth can ruin a production or that ghosts need a lightbulb to rehearse after midnight. That doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be the person who switches off the ghost light or starts whistling in the wings.
That’s one of the interesting things about theatre superstition. A lot of it survives through habit and shared backstage culture rather than genuine fear. You learn the rules from the people around you, and eventually following them becomes part of belonging there.
Some rules also remember dangers that used to be real. Whistling could interfere with stage cues. Candles could start fires. Mirrors can still cause problems with lighting. The supernatural explanation stays long after the practical one has stopped being obvious.
And then there are the rules with no satisfying explanation at all. You say “break a leg” because that’s what actors say. You call it the Scottish Play because everyone else does. You have no idea whether the theatre has a ghost, but the light is staying on anyway.
That’s probably why theatre superstitions are so difficult to get rid of. On a night when hundreds of things need to go right at exactly the right moment, very few performers are interested in being the one who decides an old warning is worth testing.
Explore more strange warnings, lucky signs and traditional beliefs in Superstitions and Omens.