Inspiring a Generation, No Really.

Beren directs some Inspiring action

At the beginning of the year I was chosen along with Lindelwa Kisana, Beren Belknap and Frankie Nassimbeni to take part in ASSITEJ SA’s Inspiring a Generation programme. It’s a collaboration with ASSITEJ’s Swedish chapter whose goal is to encourage more quality plays to be written for the youth. At the beginning of the month our counterparts arrived and we spent a week doing workshops lead by Karen Jeynes and Lucia Cajchanova. In three weeks we’ll be going to the Festival in Lund and will be presenting scenes and the first draft of our plays.

Whenever I need inspiration, or my process stalls, I turn to Robert McKee’s Story. I randomly opened it and got this:

“At last he [the writer] has a story. Now he goes to friends, but not asking for a day out of their lives – which is what we ask when we want a conscientious person to read a screenplay. Instead he pours a cup of coffee and asks for ten minutes. Then he pitches his story.”

The exercise of writing out the story inevitably leads us to write out what happens. But this is not story. The story is the distillation of what happens, the spine under the actions and events that gives them meaning. Telling a story is to select moments out of the infinite scope of ‘what happened’ (for in fiction anything is possible) into an emotionally moving sequence. When you tell someone your story out loud you’ll see if it works in their face and their body language. Then you’ll know if you have story that’ll hook your audience or just a list of things happening.

Theatre vs Film: Round One

I like movies. Really I do. I like theatre too. Our modern culture is now so saturated in film and television as our primary mode of storytelling that it’s hard sometimes to separate what’s what. Other than the screen versus live actor thing. The differences are far more profound though, they certainly stem from an essential difference in production and presentation but these affect every aspect of story and design.

I wrote this article back in 2009 after watching Done London.

Plays that want to be Films

July 18, 2009

Theatre is finally dead. Awesome. After years of watching its slow decline I have finally seen its death. It has ceased to be, passed on and moved up to that big playhouse in the sky. Except its corpse won’t keep still. Oh, no it will not. Like a blank-eyed zombie it still lurches around, empty of its essence, its life-force seeking out not braaaaaaains but boxoffice. What is motivating this shuffling cadaver? What has taken up residence in place of theatricality? Film.

I like film, it’s a beautiful medium used by many great storytellers to great effect. But it is a different medium to theatre, something my generation of writers seems to have forgotten. Film and theatre have always swapped their promiscuous lovers since before the Lumière brothers’ film spectacles – Eisenstein even started his career in the theatre – so there is a lot of common ground between the two. The very nature of each medium, the qualities that create their own special blends of advantages and disadvantages, means that they tell stories in very different ways. The stories differ in ways both dramatic and subtle, the kinds of performances that are given by the actors are worlds apart and the arrangements of narrative elements are especially divergent. All these factors mean that despite interrelated forms, you cannot tell a story onstage the way you would on film.

Done London is the latest culprit I’ve seen of writing and directing theatre for film. It is rooted in a film genre – slice-of-life multi-plot – and features naturalistic story, dialogue and acting, ‘montages’ set to genre music for time passing, linear narrative progression and multiple locations. None of which would make this a play in film drag by itself, but taken together they move the play out of play categories. And so audiences get what they’re used to seeing on flat screens in dark rooms.

All of which would be fine if theatre was in fact dead. It’s not. It’s vibrant, exciting and theatrical. Whatever experiment is carried out by the playwrights, directors and performers in theatre, let it not be an experiment in disguising the nature of the form. Audiences may be in love with movies and TV, but that does not mean theatremakers should be giving them what they see in movies and on TV. Ultimately there is really only one way to kill theatre – use it to imitate another medium.

Now I wonder if I was right at all.

The dominance of film has essentially changed our vocabulary, we all understand the concepts of montages to music, of cuts and long versus close up shots. I watched Neil Coppen’s Abnormal Loads last month and it made me question my antipathy to theatre using film techniques. In the hands of a creative designer/director like Coppen stage directions calling for long shots of a village sprouting in a valley, or a dream juxtaposing a rapid fire number of images ‘out-film’ film.  The same potential is there in Beren Belknap’s developing style – no accident that both these director/designer/writers are as immersed in modern media as theatre.

So I must abase myself to admit I was off the mark to condemn theatre using filmic techniques and stylistic flourishes as theatre in film drag, because it’s not hard and fast like that. Instead what we’re seeing are artists are using the creativity of theatre magic to speak in the vocabulary of film to tell their stories. Some artists are just doing it a lot better than others.