The Backstagers, written by James Tynion IV and illustrated by Rian Sigh, is the story of a group of misfits who make up stage crew at all-boys school St. Genesius’s. While new kid Jory slowly learns the ins and outs of stage production from Hunter, Beckett, Aziz, Sasha, and stage managers Tim and Jamie, he quickly learns that being a backstager is more than creating sets and props. They are also the stewards of the real back stage, a realm of tunnels and rooms connecting all the back stages of the world to the source of the magic of the theater. While an incredible source of resources, the back stage is also where an entire stage crew went missing in the 80s…
Why is Beckett so protective of his space?
When it comes to characterization, there is more to it than the way a character looks, speaks, and behaves. As with real people, there is also the matter of how they dress and what objects they use throughout the story. Similarly, characters can also be associated with certain spaces, usually because these characters operate almost entirely in them. A good couple of examples of this kind of characterization though objects and spaces is Steven Universe: Steven’s shield is representative of Steven himself, and his dad Greg is almost synonymous with his trademark van. What these examples might have preemptively revealed is that there comes a point where these objects and spaces become extensions of the characters themselves, and this is where the magic happens. Steven uses a shield because he is a protector by nature, but it also represents how sheltered he is by those around him. Greg’s van is a testament to his down-to-earth approach to life, but it also allows him to never settle down and think about long-term stability or goals. So, just as the character gives the space meaning, the space also imbues the character with symbolism.
Credit: James Tynion IV and Rian Sygh
A three-panel page.
First panel: Jory and Beckett are talking in the theater’s control booth. It is an organized mess of wires, boxes, and equipment. There are posters on the wall, and snacks all over.
Beckett: I need my own space, and this is the most me space that’s ever existed. I built it to be like that. It’s my favorite place in the world. I just get to be here, alone, controlling everything.
Second panel: Beckett is sitting on the desk, pointing at his control panel as he talks to Jory.
Beckett: Shining the light in just the right way to make a performance sing. Choosing the right colors, the right intensity… I get to be a living part of the performance. I can make the best actors shine.
Third panel: Beckett playfully elbows Jory, who is tentatively asking a genuine question.
Jory: The McQueens?
Beckett: Hah! The McQueens are dolts.
The Backstagers is a story all about spaces and their significance, especially in the way it depicts how a commonly overseen space like the back stage is actually infinitely more interesting than the stage itself. It’s not just because of the magical otherworldly dimension that the back stage leads to though; it is mostly because of what the space means to a group of misfit teenagers. While it is a cliché to say that teenagers are fixated on their rooms, the fact of the matter is that it is generally the one space that you have agency over during that time, which begins to explain why Beckett is so protective of his booth. Like he said, it’s the only space that he’s ever been able to make his own through his own agency. Also, the booth allows him to exert his agency on the shows thus giving him a purpose. Without lighting, there would be no show. On the other hand, however, the booth has entrenched Beckett in a comfort zone. Tim’s desire for him to take over as stage manager next year then becomes a very real threat to the space that has validated Beckett so much.
Credit: James Tynion IV and Rian Sygh
A four-panel page.
First panel: Tim is leaning down slightly, bringing his arm around Beckett. Beckett, visibly stressed, is gripping the back of his neck with his hand.
Beckett: This is a joke, this has to be a joke.
Tim: This is straight-up the opposite of a joke, man.
Second panel: Beckett, sweating in distress, is pleading his case to Tim (off-panel).
Beckett: That’s my place up there, You’ve seen what I’ve been able to do…
Third panel: A close-up of Tim, soft and understanding, as he explains his decision to Beckett (off-panel).
Tim: That’s exactly it. Jamie and I graduate at the end of the year, and right now you and Hunter are shoe-ins to take over as stage managers. There’s more important work than the boards.
Fourth panel: Beckett is trembling, left hand balled into a fist, right hand ruffling his hair.
Beckett: I… I can figure it out! I can make it work. Call the shots from up there.
Credit: James Tynion IV and Rian Sygh
A two-panel page.
First panel: Beckett is walking up the stairs to the control booth, arms crossed and gaze to the floor.
Beckett: Uh… Sasha? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry like that.
Second panel: A close-up of Beckett as he walks into the booth. His gaze is still on the floor, his right hand scratching the back of his head.
Beckett: It’s just, this is the one thing that I’ve ever been able to do right, and I’m afraid of giving that up. I’m afraid of giving it up. I’m afraid that without it, I’m just not going to fit anywhere. But that doesn’t change the fact that I said some pretty mean junk, and I don’t want you to…
That is ultimately the reason why Beckett is so protective: a threat to his space is inherently a threat to his selfhood. After blowing up at Sasha for recklessly playing with the lights, Beckett allows himself to be more vulnerable and admit that he knows he is acting out of fear. This is the one area he excels in, and having to teach Sasha opens the possibility of Sasha’s work reflecting poorly back on him. Additionally, Tim’s wish for him to step away from the booth into full stage managing opens the possibility of failure because, if you stick to what you know and never try anything new, you can never fail, right? While spaces can provide safety and comfort, in terms of characterization and overall growth, being ascribed to a specific space is also a sign of stagnation. Being a little older, Tim knows this, and he believes that Beckett has what it takes to do more.