When theatre professionals turn catty about work they’ve seen and disliked, they arrogantly and foolishly compare it to the work of amdram troupes (who are deserving of appreciation, not derision). But when they really want to draw a condescending laugh out of their peers, they invoke the institution of dinner theatre, imagining diners noisily chewing their way through shows. Who remembers the parody in the film Soapdish, which had Kevin Kline performing Death of a Salesman amid clattering tableware?

While dinner theatre may never garner respect under that name, the genuine merging of food and theatre is making inroads in the US at scales both grand and intimate. And in doing so, it fulfills two popular concepts that are much discussed in the arts these days – engagement and immersion.

In the past few weeks, I’ve experienced the spectrum of theatrical dining: a homely table laden with both store-bought and homemade desserts to accompany the faux village ceremony at the heart of Dog and Pony Theatre Company’s Beertown (a Washington DC import at NYC’s 59 E 59 Theatre). Then there was a Russian sampler at Natasha, Pierre and The Great Comet (at a tent in Times Square’s theatre district). At Queen of the Night (in the long-empty subterranean Diamond Horseshoe nightclub) there was a complete banquet with speciality cocktails and heaping platters of lobsters and beef. In each case, the food was completely integral to the show, rather than adjunct; this wasn’t just a quick bite during a lunchtime play or, God forbid, meatloaf juxtaposed with Miller.

What could be more immersive than eating? How can one possibly remain at a detached distance while sharing a table with other audience members, or when you’re exhorted to pile up a plate of goodies before taking your seat? Communal dining breaks down one’s reserve – even more so when alcohol is part of the repast. At Great Comet, selling drinks is not only a part of the experience, it’s part of the economic structure of the production; while a drunk audience might get out of hand at the sensual Queen. There’s even a theatre company named Three-Day Hangover that specialises in producing Shakespeare in bars, not simply in rooms above the pub, and encourages consumption via drinking games, just the thing for the much-desired “next generation of theatregoers,” provided they’re not abstainers.

Considering that “dinner and a show” is part of the lexicon for many arts attendees, it shouldn’t be a surprise that the two might be wrapped up in a single experience – and ticket. Going back to the 1980s, Tamara The Living Movie, a long-running hit in Los Angeles (with a briefer New York stay) fed audiences members rather lavishly at intermission, a respite from chasing actors playing out multiple storylines across myriad rooms years before Punchdrunk. Today, Sleep No More may not have fully integrated drinking and dining with its mashup of Hitchcock and Shakespeare, but bars and a restaurant echoing the design of the show share space at the retrofitted McKittrick Hotel in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighbourhood.

This is not to suggest that every show can be made immersive by adding a meal. The much-discussed clafoutis in God of Carnage would prove a messy distraction if passed out to each and every audience member, and it’s quite possible that a good show could be brought down by mediocre food. Even theatres that have dining rooms wholly separate from their performances have learned the pitfalls of becoming restaurateurs, as the art and business requires a different skill set from that needed for the stage.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that of the examples here, none have been produced in spaces purpose-built as theatres; finding such spaces in New York or London places an added production challenge on any show.

We seek to lure audiences away from their satellite TV, their Netflix subscription and their video games, on ever-larger TVs, all of which they can enjoy over take-out food or with sustenance they prepare. Perhaps looking at theatre as a package deal rather than an a la carte offering can make sense, engaging not only minds but mouths.

During the 2012/13 Broadway season, a total of nine new musicals appeared on Broadway (hitting the average annual level of recent years). Of those nine, only four are still running. As I write, there are seven new musicals playing Off-Broadway, with an eighth due in a few weeks; there may well be others. What does it tell us when 12 months of Broadway yields just about as much new musical material as we find Off-Broadway in only a couple of months?

To be fair, many of the Off-Broadway musicals are limited runs in the seasons of subsidised companies, and two are commercial transfers from such companies from earlier this year. Only one will play in a theatre which is comparable in size to Broadway venues, and in that case it’s under the auspices of Shakespeare in the Park; most are in spaces where one week of performances equals the capacity of one Broadway performance. A transferred Off-Broadway hit can easily become a Broadway casualty given the commercial demands of larger theatres and higher costs.

Certainly, hit Off-Broadway musicals are hardly new; one need only look to The Fantasticks, You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown, Godspell and Little Shop of Horrors for precursors, and it’s unlikely the current new shows will ever attain the longevity of those icons. But in recent years, the standard model has tended much more towards the Off-Broadway to Broadway transfer for success, as evidenced by shows ranging from Rent to Avenue Q to The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Even shows that began in rudimentary stagings at the New York International Fringe Festival and the New York Musical Theatre Festival have fought their way to Broadway, including Urinetown and Next to Normal.

Surveying the variety of material, it would appear that the modest scale of Off-Broadway allows for a greater range of topics and styles than the Great White Way, from the sung through pop opera of Dave Malloy’s Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (based on a portion of War and Peace, and performed in a tent) to David Byrne and Fatboy Slim’s Imelda Marcos disco bio Here Lies Love. There’s one musical that is drawn from a film (Far From Heaven) and two with their roots in Shakespeare (Venice, after Othello, and Love’s Labour’s Lost). Several adopt variations on an environmental, break-the-proscenium approach (Here Lies Love, Murder Ballad and Great Comet). None model themselves on the formula of the classic American musical.

I suspect that no one is getting rich off of these productions, while the backers of Kinky Boots, Matilda and Motown on Broadway will surely do quite well over time. For these Off- Broadway musicals to become true earners for all involved, they will either have to manage sustained runs under a commercial model, on Broadway or Off, or spawn productions across the country and abroad. But even if that doesn’t come to pass, what they are doing is providing a superb showcase for predominantly new talent and unexpected subjects; they are bolstering the musical repertory at a pace at least equal to Broadway and building the reputations of artists.

This shouldn’t suggest that musical success Off-Broadway is a breeze, and it’s worth noting that many of these shows are only mounted with significant donor underwriting or “enhancement” from producers who hope the property will turn out to be Broadway-worthy. But with different scale and different expectations, Off-Broadway musicals may well be supplanting Broadway in advancing the form.

Hindsight doesn’t benefit anyone, but it is hard to resist wondering whether the short-lived Hands on a Hardbody might have fared better at director Neil Pepe’s Atlantic Theatre Company instead of in a Broadway theatre. Ironically, that was the birthplace of Spring Awakening, a musical that had struggled through a number of developmental productions over the years only to find praise, first Off- Broadway, then on.

There’s an old saying that one can’t make a living on Broadway, but can make a killing. It’s not easy to make a living off of Off-Broadway musicals either, but you can build a career.