The Grouchy Critic is a little corner of the internet where me (and a few like-minded mischief-makers) have a proper natter about what we’ve seen, heard, and stumbled into around Manchester. Theatre, film, music, street buskers if you fancy, a random flash mob if it catches the eye, even that odd moment where the city accidentally becomes the stage. If it’s got feeling, craft, or a bit of chaos, it’s fair game.

This is mostly for the uninitiated. The ones who’ve stood with their noses pressed against the window, peering in at the arts like it’s a private members’ club, and thought: “That’s not for the likes of me.” If you’re already a seasoned theatre head with a tote bag full of five-star superlatives, you might find us a bit blunt. Around here we’re honest, forthright, and not overly interested in polite consensus. We like the good stuff, we’ll call out the nonsense, and we’re always up for challenging the conventional.

Race and class matter here. Not as a trendy checkbox, not as a sprinkle of “representation” on top, but as the lived-in reality behind how stories are written, who gets heard, who gets centre stage, and who’s expected to sit quietly at the back. I’m not interested in art that floats above the real world like it’s got nothing to do with it. The point isn’t just what a show says. It’s who it’s speaking to, who it forgets, and who it assumes will feel at home in the room.

And pictures say a lot. So do posters, programmes, staging choices, casting, accents, bodies, and all the unspoken signals that tell you whether you belong. Sometimes you can clock the whole vibe before a single line is spoken, and that’s part of what I’m here to notice. Words matter, obviously. But the visuals can be the loudest thing in the building.

Above all though, this is a love letter to Mancunia. Scruffy, brilliant, funny, contradictory Manchester, and all the wondrous things this city serves up when it’s at its best. Come along. Pull up a chair. Door’s open. No dress code. No blag. Just a proper, thoughtful, slightly grouchy look at what’s on.