THERE’LL BE SOME CHANGES MADE

Recently, I received an e-mail message from an amateur drama group who had been poring over one of my scripts for some 16 weeks. They informed me they “…really liked it…” , and loved “… all sorts of ingredients such as the drum use so carefully set out…”. They had apparently “… steered away from drum use… over the years, but this could be a turning point.”. The outcome was that they would “…very much like to proceed…” with the script. However, they had “…two requests…”

One was to “…import one or two routines…” (My italics!) The second was to expand the chorus involvement to accommodate a group of children, the bulk of which were of primary school age, to give them “… one or two lines each…”

I replied, thanking them for asking about the possibility of making alterations, pointing out that this was the exception rather than the rule, and informed them that if they let me know specifically what they had in mind, I would certainly have a look at modifying the script.

This has happened before, and on occasions, I have supplied alternative bits of dialogue and business, so that societies could pick and choose, and combine them in any number or order to cover their requirements.

In this case, I received a reply from the Director, informing me that the group liked my script very much, but felt that they needed “…the flexibility to make changes “… as and when the need arises, and not have to seek approval of each change…” (My italics!)

I was also informed that “… late in the day, there can be the need for changes to accommodate a local or national topic of interest…” (My italics!)

The Director claimed that they had already presented 16 pantomimes, and “…have not had any issues with writers…”

To begin at the beginning…

The script I supplied to the group has, like all my scripts, a title page, on the reverse of which there is a heading in bold caps, ‘IMPORTANT NOTES – PLEASE READ CAREFULLY’. Note 5 reads, “No alteration to the title or script should be made without the author’s consent. All approved alterations of or suggestions for the script become the authors’ property.”

I can insist that this rule is adhered to, but in practice I have evidence that it is often completely ignored. Unless I attended every performance of my pantomimes, I have no way of knowing what alterations are made to the scripts, either during rehearsals, or on the 'spur of the moment' during a show, and the more 'cavalier' companies know this.

The fact that the Director in question referred to the local and national topics of interest, and the 16 pantomimes, suggests to me that this desire to alter scripts wasn’t a new one, so, a simple question… why didn’t the group ask about the procedure regarding script changes when they made their request for a reading copy? It would have been courteous, and it might have saved both parties considerable time and trouble.

Seeing as I wasn’t contacted about this issue immediately the group received the script, containing Note 5 above, did no one bother to read the notes, did someone read the notes and just ignore them, or did they read the notes and think that they were exempt?

In a previous blog, I said my piece about ad-libbing, but here, this is about someone wanting to make alterations to the script, without seeking the writer’s approval, even though he has offered to do the job for them.

What’s this, “…late in the day, there can be the need for changes to accommodate a local or national topic of interest…” nonsense? There is no need to include local or topical references at all.

Of course the defence of this need is that this is what audiences want. My belief, for what it is worth, is that if an amateur society manages to present a pantomime with good acting, dancing and singing, tuneful music and appropriate sound effects, well-designed sets, props and costumes, good quality sound and lighting, comfortable seating, with a good view of the stage, and they serve a decent cup of tea during the interval, then not one single member of the audience will leave the theatre complaining that the show was short on local or topical references. In fact, I guarantee it. I also guarantee that every society is going to fall well short on many of the requirements listed above. Even if they reach a high standard on all these aspects, they should be aware that however well you do a show, you can always do it better! A lorry-load of local and topical references will not rescue a poor production.

Personally, I would put drum cues well before topical references. Remember, this group had “… steered away from drum use… over the years...". More about the crash, bang, wallop later. Watch this space!

Some amateur operatic societies feel that it's imperative they include local or topical references in their pantomimes, but wouldn't dream of inserting them in a production of 'The King And I'! Is a puzzlement!

The outcome of the saga detailed above was that we both decided to go our separate ways.

To quote the great Billy Wilder again… “I have ten commandments. The first nine are, thou shalt not bore. The tenth is, thou shalt have right of final cut.”


CLASS ACT #3

In the light of the preceding grump, I decided to include the above.

Brassy, gangly, Cass Daley (born Catherine Dailey), (July 17, 1915 - March 22, 1975) was an American radio, television and film actress, singer, and comedienne. She started her career as a band vocalist, but was upstaged during one of her singing performances by a buffoonish emcee by the name of Red Skelton, and was inspired to switch to playing for laughs.

Some of her songs recorded for Decca Records include: "Abba Dabba Honeymoon", "Put the Blame on Mame" and "A Good Man Is Hard to Find".

Her eccentric, off-the-wall singing and dancing combined with her gawky, buck-toothed appearance endeared her to movie audiences in the 1940s and 1950s, most notably in knockabout comedies. 

I suppose you might describe this performance as… “Giving it some oomph!”

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No strings attached!

I receive lots of correspondence from amateur drama/operatic societies, and it amazes me why so many don’t appear to have letter headings. I get notes written on the back of envelopes, bits of cardboard, and sheets from those wire-bound reporters’ notebooks, with the torn perforations still at the top.

So G. Wizz is offering to design, a letter heading, free, gratis and for nothing, for any bona fide drama/operatic group. Really!

Just send me an e-mail message and we’ll take it from there… as opposed to ‘Take It From Here’, which was a BBC radio comedy programme, broadcast between 1948 and 1960.

Written by Frank Muir and Denis Norden, it originally starred Jimmy Edwards, Dick Bentley and Joy Nichols, and later, June Whitfield and Alma Cogan. The show is perhaps most famous for introducing ‘The Glums’… "Oh really, Ron, do you expect me to just sit here, like a lemon?", to which the dim Ron responds "No thanks Eth, I've just had a banana." Think about it!

Hurry, hurry, hurry!

MY BÊTE NOIR

If a person buys a self-assembly bookcase, on opening the carton, the chances are they will find that the kit comprises various pieces of wood, a polythene bag containing screws, dowels, etc., plus a booklet which describes the construction procedure, probably by means of simple line illustrations.

The individual could of course, ignore this booklet completely and attempt their own method of construction, but the end result would most likely, be something that looked nothing like a bookcase, and proved to be totally unsuitable for holding books.

It’s a fair bet that the instruction booklet has been prepared by people who knew what they were about, and if the purchaser followed it, step by step, they would quite quickly become the owner of a properly constructed, useful piece of furniture, and also have a sense of pride and achievement.

It seems rather strange therefore, that whilst only a fool would ignore the instructions in a booklet included with a self-assembly bookcase, and devise his or her own plan, certain people appear to think that it is perfectly acceptable, indeed, almost essential, to adopt a different approach with a pantomime script. They don’t trust the writer, or apparently, think that they know better.

A pantomime script should contain all the elements required to produce a successful show - even the screws, the dowels and those ‘special bits’ that hold it all together. It should have been written by someone who ‘knows what they are about’, and therefore, following this ‘book of instructions’ will produce the right kind of end product, something that not only serves its purpose, but can also be a proud possession, which is admired by other people.

The first function of the script is to inspire the interpretive artists - to make them say, “There are wonderful opportunities here for me.” Part of being a good actor is the ability to spot these opportunities, and make the best use of them. Unfortunately, some self-opinionated performers, whose skills generally tend to be average at best, see the script only as a means for them to set off on an ego trip. Their main concern, indeed sometimes their only concern, is what they can do for the script, rather than what the script can do for them.

The script’s second function is to supply the words the actors will speak. These words may have to be cut or changed deliberately, but there is no excuse for changing them at random, like the actor who ‘gets the idea’ and then paraphrases his speeches, or assumes that he can make up better words offhand than the playwright could after long thought. This assumption is rarely justified.

On page 3 of my script for ‘Robinson Crusoe’, there is the following to describe the entrance of the Dame:

FX                    MOTOR HORN OFF STAGE

CLARA             (OFF) Fresh fi-ish! Fre-esh fi-ish!

MUSIC CUE      COVER MUSIC - CLARA CRUSOE

ENTER CLARA CRUSOE PUSHING A CART LOADED WITH FISH. CART HAS A HORN ATTACHED AND A SIGN – ‘CLARA CRUSOE AND SONS, FISHMONGERS’

There follows some dialogue where Clara introduces herself, cracks a corny joke about fish, sings a few bars from a selection of ‘fish’ songs, in mock operatic fashion, whilst holding up examples of her piscatorial produce, and then throws some ‘sweetie shrimps’ to the audience. The fact that the sign on the cart reads, ‘CLARA CRUSOE AND SONS, FISHMONGERS’, tells the audience immediately who she is, and her relationship to two other members of the cast. The whole sequence occupies slightly less than a page of the script.

I went to see a  production put on by a group located not far from where I live, and wished that I hadn’t. The individual playing the Dame entered from the wings on a skateboard! There was no horn, which sets up the anticipation of a comedy entrance, and there was no cover music. He was obviously not used to the contraption, as around mid stage he fell of it, and went A over T! This was not a pre-arranged comedy fall, and so the drummer didn’t have a cymbal crash ready.

Unfortunately, the smatterer didn’t break his neck, but he did manage to dislodge the radio mike that had been fixed about his person. There followed a couple of minutes of fiddling under his costume, accompanied by almost inaudible, mumbled ad-libbing.

When the problem was eventually sorted out, he came to the front of the stage and asked for the houselights to be put on, so that he could ask spontaneous questions of the audience. Some faint replies necessitated repeating, and after four or five minutes of this nonsense, which seemed to last at least twice as long, he asked for the houselights to be taken out and he disappeared into the wings to return, pushing a supermarket trolley, with a ‘sign’ that had been written in felt-tip pen on the reverse of a side of a cornflake packet, attached to it. Then it was back to the script… sort of.

I was incensed. The whole sequence was a complete shambles, and showed that this imposter didn’t know the first thing about comedy.

Had he done this at rehearsals? If so, why hadn’t the director nipped it in the bud straight away? Had he saved this up for the first performance, and decided after weeks of rehearsing, to go his own way?

I was later informed that he would be playing Fagin in the society’s forthcoming production of ‘Oliver’. That got me thinking. Would he make his entrance as the "receiver of stolen goods", on a pogo stick, or maybe a unicycle! I doubt very much that he did!

When I arrived back home, I had calmed down somewhat, and I decided that I would read the script just to make sure that it did what it was supposed to do. I have never played a pantomime Dame in my life, but I acted out the scene in my living room, and it worked, perfectly well. It flowed and it was funny. 

In reviews of amateur shows I have noted the following… “their ad-libbing in place of forgotten lines… added to the humour.” There you go, then! Don’t bother to learn the lines and the whole thing will be hilarious! Or maybe it won’t!

“Many of the best laughs came from the busload of Buttons fans in the cheap seats at the back. And from the spontaneous script embroidery which ensued. Inveterate ad-libber, Archer Turbild met his match this year in Norman Cowsedge. Another welcome newcomer was Arlene Lank, who played a sweet Cinderella, coping coolly with the improvisation around her.”

If Plan A above doesn’t work, try Plan B! Plant some wags in the one-and-nines, and have a duel in the Ad-Lib Stakes. If I had been Arlene I would have walked off the stage, and left the so-and-sos to it!

The names have been changed to protect the innocent… and the guilty!

When it comes to pantomimes, ad-libbers are my bête noir! They slow down a production, and wind me up!

I realise of course that they will continue, unchecked and un-funny, ad-libbing ad infinitum.

“Heigh-ho!” says Anthony Rowley.

A GOOD IDEA, SON!

(A catchphrase used by Max Bygraves on the BBC Light Program comedy show, ‘Educating Archie’, broadcast in the 1950s.)

In my script for ‘Aladdin’, I have Abanazar, the Magnificent Magician from Morocco, gaze into a crystal ball, to discover that our hero has escaped from the fabled cave, with the magic lamp.

Recently, in toy and novelty shops, I have come across 100mm diameter Spectral Balls, High Bouncing Glitter Balls, Glitter Water Balls, and Light Up Air Balls, all of which would be ideal for the scene described above. Some of them have built in light-emitting gizmos, but the basic ones would most likely glitter considerably under the stage lights. They are available from only £1.99!

I see Abanazar producing one of these devices from a pocket inside his cloak or whatever, and with some artistic manipulation and dialogue over, make the ball come alive, as it were.

Perhaps there are other pantomimes where a crystal ball is consulted.

Try one or two of the moves as depicted on the video…

Don’t bother learning the whole routine!