Writers Voice September 2011 - Fellowship of Australian Writers NSW

Workshop
WriTinG For THe STaGe
Allan Mackay, President, Shoalhaven FAW
Imagine an impromptu piece of theatre involving
two actors, each with only one word of dialogue, a
repeated ‘yes’ or ‘no’. With minimal preparation they
have to present a brief drama that can be interpreted by
the audience. What the actors have to use, apart from
their single words, are intonation, pacing, the use of
silences, facial and bodily expressions, awareness of and
movement in space and in relation to each other. These
are actors’ skills and if it was a complete play in a theatre,
we’d have to include a director, the stage, scenery, props,
lighting and sound designs plus a host of elements used in
a production.
This is the point: a piece of prose or a poem is born in
the writer’s mind and finished alone at a desk. Research
might have been involved, as well as an editor, reviewer
and all those willing to chip in an opinion or two. It
reaches fruition when it is read and rarely, when it is
listened to. But a play script involves all those elements
listed above as well as the dialogue and it doesn’t come
to fruition until it happens in a theatre or some other
medium. By that time, words on paper have become a
visual and auditory event. Of course, students have plays
inflicted on them as literature and, in a sense, this practice
does a disservice to both.
It follows then that writers, as they compose their
scripts, must bear all these elements in mind. This
doesn’t mean that he/she has to write in all the actor’s
movements, intonations etc. Directors and actors
would be highly insulted because that takes away their
contribution to the finished play. But the elements must
be borne in mind as the dialogue is written. A perfect
balance has to be found between writing too much and
writing not enough where there is the danger of becoming
incomprehensible. But this is really a problem for all
writers in all mediums.
This is where sub­text comes into play, that mysterious
word that a good script must have and it is always
mentioned by critics. Sub­text is essentially what goes on
in the silences between pieces of dialogue and includes
the reactions of the characters on stage to what is being
said by others. It provides added dimensions of thought
and meaning to the action and is largely the province
of the actors and the director but the written dialogue
should ‘carry’, even hint at this sub­text. The author has it
in mind but should not feel the need to explain it all. For
example, consider the famous line of Hamlet’s:
‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’
Shakespeare doesn’t feel he has to explain this and
leaves it up to the people involved in the play and to the
audience: to be a king killer or not? To kill himself or live?
To kill Claudius now or later?
In the little impromptu mentioned in the beginning,
the sub­text is what is going on outside the dialogue –
only the writer has, in this case, been parsimonious with
the script.
20 WRITERS’ VOICE 233—SEPTEMBER 2011
Image: iStockPhoto
It also follows that it is a great advantage for the
writer to have a first­hand knowledge of what goes on
in mounting a production. Shakespeare composed a lot
of his plays at the actual theatre and then workshopped
them on stage before producing the finished script. Even
then it was being continually developed in subsequent
productions. At the very least, watching a number of plays
on a variety of stage types (classical, thrust, theatre­inthe­round
etc.) is a prerequisite. Workshopping, even
amongst a group of friends, is valuable in finding out
sections of the script that simply don’t work when
performed, though they might have worked like a dream
in the playwright’s mind. Theatres often supply a skilled
dramaturg to carry out this job but all directors and
designers will see your precious script as merely one of
the components of the whole production. Their aim is to
provide an entertainment (and bums on seats) and if this
involves some reshaping, tinkering or trimming of your
masterpiece, so be it. Only on opening night is your play
finished.
If your script is designed or adapted for film, television
or radio it might fall under the dictates of time available in
that time slot.
Finally, a little guidance for those starting out to write
their first play. A full length play should run for about
two hours, but remember, the theatre likes its audience
to have a twenty­minute interval to sell them drinks, ice
creams and chocolates. It is up to you to devise the scenes,
settings etc. so the designers can be let loose on it. A novel
might take five­hundred pages to evolve but the drama
must be mightily compressed in a play. As demonstrated
in the impromptu piece, DRAMA IS CONFLICT, so begin
there. It can be a conflict between people (say, a boxing
match), between man and his environment (the explorer
lost in the desert) or within a character’s mind (‘To be
or not to be’). But the tension is increased when the two
sides of the conflict are evenly balanced, either equally
attractive (say, a choice between an ice cream or a
chocolate at interval) or equally unattractive (go to the
dentist or suffer the aching tooth).
The winning of one side MUST involve the loss of the
other.
Lastly – and this is the most important advice – DON’T
WRITE TOO MUCH! The director and his cohorts have
yet to make their contribution. Besides, the audience
doesn’t need to have everything explained to it – they’re
intelligent and have paid for their tickets so let them draw
their own conclusions – and hope like hell they’re the
right ones!
© Allan Mackay
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