Nobody should embark on the dangerous path of playwriting until they have spent at least six months drinking coffee in a busy cafe. Preferably one you have to catch a bus to get to.
I’m not being entirely whimsical. The idea is that as a play wright, as any
sort of writer, you should listen to people talking. As much and as often as
possible. You need to listen closely and
at some length as you sip your americano.
You also need to get your notbook out and write down what they say and,
most important, the way they say it. Until
you have spent hours and hours doing this and have acquired some understanding
of the way people speak to each other; the speech patterns and rhythms, then
you cannot begin to write plays. Because
the stuff of plays is made up of the interactions and interplays of
characters. If you can’t get that, then
you can’t write a play. Anybody can
write a play that depends on situation or plot but to write a play that depends
on character requires an understanding of how to build a character and how that
character develops within and around a plot.
Indeed how the character and the plot are inextricably linked. What happens in a play can only happen
because of that character and that character drives what happens.
There are no rules about getting a character to speak. Indeed, you will find out very quickly as you
listen, that there are absolutely no rules to conversation at all. Trying to record and reproduce is virtually
impossible. Conversational speech is
broken, halting, discursive, unsettled.
Entirely without grammar or syntax as described in the conventional
manuals. Sentences have no verbs. They do not link one to another. They are made up partly of words, partly of
sounds and partly of gestures.
What’s more, dialogues have very little logic. It is quite possible for one person to
espouse several quite contradictory ideas at one time. Sometimes our interlocuters speak in other voices
(the actual meaning of “irony” by the way).
Most of the time conversation does not follow the neat ordered pattern
of question and response we would expect as writers. Most of the time people will only talk about
themselves. Each question or statement
being answered or interrupted by their own experience.
Yet, somehow in this mish mash of half formed sentences and
ill formed ideas some sort of exchange takes place. It may be indirect and convoluted but
eventually some idea may be conveyed to the other party.
So what do we playwrights learn from this? Firstly, that our characters need to be freed
from the conventions of written speech.
This gives us the opportunities to learn about the reality of our
characters. Our character can grow with
our discovery of their little tics and irregularities. And I don’t mean that that gives us licence
to write in some sort of ridiculous Dick Van Dyke cockney voice. I mean that we can discover the outward signs
of the inward workings of a character though their speech. And as we write it we need to speak it out
loud. We are trying to record a spoken interchange so it only exists in some
bare notation as words on a page.
Secondly, we need to remember that most conversations are
about anything but the subject in hand.
This is especially true about complex and deep subjects. It takes quite a bit of beating about the
bush before the real feelings of our character is flushed out. This is what makes the process of play
watching so enjoyable. The audience are
voyeurs trying to understand something from the snippets of half formed
conversation they are allowed to overhear.
And, of course, our characters are often unreliable witnesses. They lie, they prevaricate, they say the very
opposite of what they really think and feel.
But as the watchers begin to know and understand they begin to get more
and more drawn in and engaged.
Thirdly, we need to avoid the need for stage
directions. If you’ve got the voice
right then there is no need to interject (humorously) or (bitterly) it must be
there in the speech itslef. If you find
you have to resort to stage directions than you need to recast the speech.
Similarly, as a director, I get annoyed by writers who write detailed character
descriptions in the stage directions but do not carry them through into their
actual speech and actions. It is not
good enough to describe a character as “Young dynamic and ambitious” You need
to show that. You need to show how that
ambition is manifested or hidden.
Fourthly, plot needs to correlate with the characters you
are drawing. If you are beating your
characters into a particular plot twist or situation then you have either got
the plot wrong or the character or, most likely, both. The actions that a character takes are the
ones that define that character and are defined by that character. If there is a surprising plot or character
twist you need to ask yourself whether you have buried that possibility deep
within the psyche of the character you are working with. You need to ask
yourself “does it contradict anything that has already been laid down?”
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