Friday, 24 November 2006
Whose play is it, anyway?
by Tim Massey
I wrote the following notes on 'ownership' of a play script in response to a request from Jo for a 'few lines' on the subject for her creative writing essay titled 'Whose play is it, anyway?'
I think it's important to distinguish between the script and the production when asking to whom a play 'belongs'. A production begins with the script and, in the theatre particularly, the script survives the production. A film, TV or radio drama script still exists after it has been produced, of course, but it is superseded by its production because its production is recorded - in fact, the recording is the production. In live theatre, the production ceases to exist once a run is over, but the script is still there for future production. While film, TV and radio scripts can be and are remade, this is less likely or frequent than in the theatre.
I find the impermanence of a theatre production one of the most exciting and creative aspects of writing for the stage. The production is a chance to develop a script by incorporating ideas from the director and actors in an improved draft once a run is complete. I feel it's important to be as open as possible to input from the other members of the production team to make the most of this opportunity.
Because a production relies on everyone involved working together for it to be a success, the show doesn't 'belong' to anyone in particular. Again, my feeling is that everyone should focus on how best to make the production as good as it can be rather than on claiming ownership of it. Ultimately, this will make for a more successful show and reflect better on everyone involved.
In practice, I've found that the writer takes a backseat once rehearsals begin. It's important for the director to establish his or her leadership in the rehearsal room, and having a very vocal writer around isn't helpful in doing this. The collaborative process of putting on a show needs everyone to respect everybody else's contribution so that all can bring their ideas to the production, but I don't think it's necessary to be too precious about this - taking exaggerated care not to tread on anyone's toes isn't exactly conducive to creativity! I think it's great when everybody just throws ideas around in rehearsal to see what happens, but it's important for the director to be able to keep things on track. Maybe the play belongs more to the director during rehearsals because of this? (I've blogged about the issue of etiquette for the playwright in the rehearsal room here.)
Once the play takes the stage, it probably 'belongs' most to the actors. As Paul says in Salt'n'Sauce, 'They're the ones who have to get up there and do the show. You can't do it for them.' Successful performances also involve the cast responding to the audience, so finally a play is a collaboration with the audience too. If the audience isn't playing - as on Salt'n'Sauce's Tumbleweed Night - the same show that's gone down a storm at other performances suddenly just doesn't work. Different audiences respond differently to the same piece, which is why I like to be at every performance of my plays - it's fascinating. There's a unique nightly recreation of the play because of the interaction between actors and audience, making for another creative partnership.
I don't expect Salt'n'Sauce to be produced again in the near future, but if and when it is revived, the new production will begin with a version of the script inherited from the Theatre West show. In my blog entry for 30 October I've noted that rehearsals resulted in 'a couple of judicious cuts, which I'm gently kicking myself for not having made while rewriting,' and I'd definitely make these in the post-Alma draft. The production process led to more significant script development than simple editing, though, and a couple of the show's highlights emerged as it progressed towards performance.
In the original version of the script that Alison and Ann accepted for production, the 'missed lighting cue' scene is set in a pub. Much of the dialogue is the same as the performed version, but John and Paul say it over a couple of pints. The original scene also ends with a premature black-out, but it doesn't coincide with anything happening on stage - it's just a visual gag reflecting the fact that the fictional writer and director have been discussing Emily's incompetent lighting operation. At our initial meeting in August (blogged here), Sam suggested that Paul should be doing something ahead of the black-out that is 'spoiled' by it. I thought this was a great idea - although I was a bit disappointed that I hadn't thought of it myself! - and quickly came up with the idea that Paul should be undressing, but that his modesty would be preserved by the 'missed' lighting cue. As well as giving the joke extra impact, Paul getting his kit off fed nicely into his character development, making it obvious visually that Paul is sexually predatory. John is also disappointed to be returning to the flat at midnight, showing his feeling that he's missing the party. Sam's suggestion thus helped make much more of the scene without my having to do a lot of rewriting.
Simon and Paul's work on the scene also helped make it a major feature of the show. By the end of the run I'd started to think that I hadn't written the 'Young enough' line as a double entendre - John says, 'I'm not so young anymore,' Paul says, 'Young enough' - but, checking the script, it's there followed by a stage direction saying that Paul drops his trousers. It's difficult to pace business like undressing when writing a script because it's hard to judge how long the action will take. Simon paced it perfectly, though, getting down to his underpants by the 'Young enough' line, and making the joke more subtly by tugging at the waistband of his Y-fronts after saying it - I don't think this ever failed to get a laugh.
After I had the idea for Paul undressing in Salt'n'Sauce, I remembered the scene in the Les Dennis episode of the first series of Extras
I think that the extent to which the director and actors are free to interpret the script shows how far the writer has intruded on their territory. While I'll tweak the script to include cuts and other improvements in the dialogue made during the Alma show, I won't revise it to describe the performances or set and lighting designs of the Theatre West production in detail. The dreadful Samuel French Acting Editions of play scripts do this, with in-depth descriptions of the original productions, and this level of prescription could be seen as an effort to preclude fresh ideas from subsequent directors, actors and designers. I don't think that a playwright should try to act, direct or design from the script and, in this sense, these roles belong to the other members of the production team even while the play is being written. There is a case for playwrights to restrict themselves to writing dialogue alone and limit stage directions to who's speaking and where the action is set - 'Exit, pursued by a bear'.
So, the script survives a play's production, but the play really only happens when it is in production. It's really difficult to unpick to whom a play 'belongs' because the production process is so collaborative. I was talking about this with a director once, saying that I valued productions as script development opportunities and he said, 'It really calls into question the idea of authorship.' Ultimately, though, it is the playwright who is identified as the author of the play and, no matter how many different directors and actors are involved in various productions of a particular play, the author is always the same. While I think it's really important to appreciate the value of the director and actors' contribution to the realisation of the play on stage, the playwright is always the one who's consistently identified as the owner of the play, and perhaps this fact alone means that a play belongs mostly to its writer?