Actions are only the Alphabet of Drama, which must be spelt into critical Words of Emotion and coherent Sentences of Suspense before they express Deeds—the common Language and Bond of all human heart Interest.
Actions are only the Alphabet of Drama, which must be spelt into critical Words of Emotion and coherent Sentences of Suspense before they express Deeds—the common Language and Bond of all human heart Interest.
Actions are only the Alphabet of Drama, which must be spelt into critical Words of Emotion and coherent Sentences of Suspense before they express Deeds—the common Language and Bond of all human heart Interest.
Dramatic Expression
THE LAWS OF MOVEMENT AND ACTION; CHARACTER AND MOTIVE; RELATION TO AUDIENCE AND CHARACTER; DRAMATIC VERSUS DYNAMIC; REALISM, ROMANTICISM AND IDEALISM.
THE LAWS OF MOVEMENT AND ACTION; CHARACTER AND MOTIVE; RELATION TO AUDIENCE AND CHARACTER; DRAMATIC VERSUS DYNAMIC; REALISM, ROMANTICISM AND IDEALISM.
IN drama we make no attempt to reproduce facts, but to induce reality. Illusion is all things. The dramatist deliberately sets about to make the hour that an audience gives to seeing his play become one of the greatest events in their emotional history. He does not merely imitate or mimic life, helivesthe life, and then, thru his dramatic and technical skill—or Art—translates it into such familiar terms that all who see can understand.
Strictly speaking, action is but the external conduct of the characters, or actors. Great danger lies in the playwright’s failure to understand and appreciate the marked difference between movement and action. Movement is the internal undercurrent of real dramatic progression. That actors come and go rapidly across the screen, or that their actions shall be violent or punctuated with gestures, is not by any means sufficient. Actions must express and portray an internal struggle with which the audience is in sympathetic understanding. There must be an underlying emotional meaning for every prominent action that is displayed on the screen. Thus the dramatic element is perceived by the audience thru its effect upon the characters and their consequent actions. This is called motive, as well as movement; it begins and continues in the guise of cumulative insinuations from the very first scene, reaching its full stage of development in the climax. This requires the most skillful and technical execution on the part of the playwright, who must throw his whole soul into it without once showing his hand. In other words, dramatic effects must comeabout as naturally as the normal actions of the characters. Too often photoplays are nothing more than a series of continued pictures, anyone or more of which might be cut out without affecting the final scene. To the contrary, drama is a living thing, and amputation will either maim, or mar, or kill it outright.
(EXAMPLE 66.)A single scene from a play in which a girl who has discovered and developed a talent in a man is thrown off by him in the moment of his triumph, shows the difference between Movement and Action: (Action) Forbes is standing in the center of the room, the lion of the hour; ladies crowding around him in excited contest; one seems to get the major share of attention. (Movement) Alica, the heroine, enters with joy and pride on her face; steps forward to shake his hand; at first he pretends he does not know her; then accompanies his handshake with a curt nod; turning away almost rudely to the other woman.... Showing that the chief difference lies in action affecting the character and movement affecting the audience.
(EXAMPLE 66.)A single scene from a play in which a girl who has discovered and developed a talent in a man is thrown off by him in the moment of his triumph, shows the difference between Movement and Action: (Action) Forbes is standing in the center of the room, the lion of the hour; ladies crowding around him in excited contest; one seems to get the major share of attention. (Movement) Alica, the heroine, enters with joy and pride on her face; steps forward to shake his hand; at first he pretends he does not know her; then accompanies his handshake with a curt nod; turning away almost rudely to the other woman.... Showing that the chief difference lies in action affecting the character and movement affecting the audience.
Movement, then, is that which is felt more than it is seen. It brings us face to face again with the power of suggestion, which is one of the secret springs of dramatic effects. By means of it everything is made to play a dramatic part in our drama.
(EXAMPLE 67.)In a scene picturing the hour a man has selected to declare his love, we find a moonlight effect; they sing a love song; “the time, the place and the girl” are all harmonious.... In another scene we depict this man’s poverty by showing his threadbare room; there are many suggestions of better days; his manner shows refinements that suggest his former affluence and make his surroundings pathetically dramatic.
(EXAMPLE 67.)In a scene picturing the hour a man has selected to declare his love, we find a moonlight effect; they sing a love song; “the time, the place and the girl” are all harmonious.... In another scene we depict this man’s poverty by showing his threadbare room; there are many suggestions of better days; his manner shows refinements that suggest his former affluence and make his surroundings pathetically dramatic.
The finer points in dramatic construction are equivalent—and just as necessary—as those of fiction narration. Dramatic construction and expression are modulated according to the nature of the theme. Realism, Romanticism and Idealism each has its methods of producing effects. We must guard against the vulgarity of ultra-realism and bear in mind that all idealism must be edifying and romanticism refined. Realism is materialistic and calls for gross details and convincing spectacle; Romanticism is luxuriant and revels in the vagaries of youth, the desire for love and the intoxication of adventure; Idealism is delicate and speculates in beauty, dreams and perfection. The three are like solids, oil and water that can never mix. If our play be a romance, its contributive elements must beromantic to produce the desired romantic effect.
(EXAMPLE 68.)The three plays following are examples of Realism, Romanticism and Idealism, as their titles appropriately suggest: “The Salt of Vengeance,” “The Coming of the Real Prince” and “The Lost Melody.” The first is a play of revenge and does not mince matters in delineating it; there is a wreck, a thrilling hold-up scene and a sacrifice involving bloodshed. The second shows the blowing and bursting of the romantic bubble of a visionary country girl. The third depicts the effect of a youthful ideal upon a man later in life.
(EXAMPLE 68.)The three plays following are examples of Realism, Romanticism and Idealism, as their titles appropriately suggest: “The Salt of Vengeance,” “The Coming of the Real Prince” and “The Lost Melody.” The first is a play of revenge and does not mince matters in delineating it; there is a wreck, a thrilling hold-up scene and a sacrifice involving bloodshed. The second shows the blowing and bursting of the romantic bubble of a visionary country girl. The third depicts the effect of a youthful ideal upon a man later in life.
There are grave dangers, as we have hinted, in substituting dynamic or spectacular action for dramatic movement, as illustrated in the foregoing chapter by Example 65. Even melodrama can be ruined by it. The toppling over of a house, the realistic battle between two armies, or the smashing of two locomotives, obliterates the fine mechanism of the drama with a realism that satiates and makes everything that follows insipid. The play, the characters and the audience are lost in the debris both literally and artistically. Our object in dramatic expression is to enthrall, not to paralyze. Every distraction of attentionfrom the elemental mediums of pure art is an obstacle thrown into the clear channel of receptivity. Spectacles are for the most part acts that concern themselves and notdeedsthat are an intrinsic part of the drama. The characters and the action step back as it were, while the precipitated spectacle usurps the stage and the attention. Unlike the circus, drama has no legitimate side-shows. We are not interested in anything that happens or that a character may do, but only in what his action indicates and reveals of the story. Spectacles are real “moving pictures”; what we want is moving drama. True drama appeals to the heart; spectacular theatrics assault the nerves.
We should employ the spectacle then, not as an adjunct to drama, but as a vital necessity—which will be rarely. When you can honestly say that what you have written is good drama, and that you cannot do without one or more spectacular scenes, then make use of them by all means.