One main tactic the authors use through the characters in the scenes is repetition and avoidance. The prying character—for example, Harper—repeats questions over and over again to the other, while Joe keeps deflecting his answers back to her and changing the subject with questions of his own. This is a great theatrical tactic since the issue is obviously not off the table, a new can of worms has been opened and the characters are even more frustrated, which raises the stakes yet again. This trade off of questions goes on for a while until the initially prying character breaks the tension by asking Now, she could get to the heart of the matter at the very beginning, but that would be uninteresting because it would lack the necessary escalation that the weight of the scene demands; it would fall flat. However, it’s important to leave these questions unanswered (unless it’s at the end of the play) to keep the audience intrigued. You never want to give away too much. Pacing is imperative in this scene. If the characters monologued any more, the quickness of the repartee would deteriorate into an overdramatic preemptive climax. The key is to keep the audience engaged and excited, but always wanting more.
Closer and Angels in America both use split scenes to effectively keep this breakneck pace. Both plays have separate groups of characters that intertwine into a big group. This is a good theatrical device because we see these groups going through similar problems together, allowing the audience to compare and contrast the character’s issues relatively at the same time. Even though the separate groups are going through the same problems, we can see the different methods individual characters use to try to solve their problems. Whether their methods differ or are the same speaks to the mental and emotional capacities of the characters; e.g. a wife whose husband is cheating on her with men reacts much differently than a man whose wife is cheating on her with an old friend.
The Arcadia side we read is one of my favorite moments from that play. It happens essentially during Bernard’s introduction to Hannah—both characters are career academics who are essentially quizzing each other’s factual and emotional intelligence to try and impress the other. Tom Stoppard has famously said that he would never dumb down one of his plays; he prefers to write for an educated audience and won’t limit himself in that way. Clearly, there are parts of this scene and of the whole play that are way over an American audience’s head, like the discussion of the evolution of the English garden to the commentary on chaos theory. However, it’s alright because the more important issue is how the character relates to the audience (Brecht aside). As long as the actors/characters are convinced in what their talking about, the audience will go along. Granted, there needs to be a way in for the audience, so the dialogue needs to stop short of Binary, but I really think it’s a grave mistake to coddle an audience.
Bernard and Hannah are desperately trying to win each other over in this scene, and prove that they are worthy, to work with one another—flexing their intellectual muscles, if you will. They describe a situation or historical event, but leave out some of the key points, to see if the other is sharp enough to fill in the blanks. This is also a good theatrical device; the most captivating scenes in plays are usually when one character is withholding information from another—forcing them to make the connection. Finally, after winning the other over, mutual trust is gained by helping the other out by giving them an interesting and valuable piece of information. For example, when Hannah is talking about her study of the breakdown of the Romantic imagination through landscape and literature, Bernard helps her out by reminding her that Samuel Coleridge, a romantic poet who wrote about landscapes and nature, died in the same year her study ends. This mutual trust forges a bond between the two characters that the audience can pick up on. This ‘give-and-take’ aspect is essential, because it provides helpful exposition under the guise of character development. In short, what I learn from Arcadia along with most of Stoppard’s other works is that sometimes it’s OK to ‘trick’ your audience, but never OK to underestimate their intelligence.
I like your discussion of repetition and questions. Those elements of the dialogues stuck out to me, too, especially in their success at keeping the audience interested without giving too much away at once. The ambiguity of facts mixed with the clarity of emotional charge in 'Closer' and 'Angels' are effectively captivating.
ReplyDeleteYour comments are very insightful and helped me see new things about the dialogues that I missed on the first round. Like your reflection on 'Arcadia' and the subject of the characters' conversation. It helped me appreciate the exchange better when I read that point about the characters' intentions being clear even if their academic references weren't. Also, you point out Stoppard's desire to write about intellectual things, and it made me wonder whether we as a society still consider theater to be an elite niche? Or does it try and reach broader audiences than the elite?
Good Adam. Lots to do here. Good ideas about withholding info and giving a little at a time, about misdirection, about pacing. Hurrah for tricking your audience. Hurrah for never dumbing it down. Those are part and parcel. Never underestimating their intelligence is both a generous approach and a necessary one -- you trust them to figure it out; you also trust them not to be too smart, not to figure it out until you're ready for them to do so. All these little hints and misdirects and withholding and measured pacing is ANNOYING AS CRAP if you've already guessed the ending or the point. In this case, it also helps us side with Harper -- like her, we KNOW Joe is gay, so we become annoyed and impatient with his refusal to just freaking tell us already.
ReplyDeleteHannah and Bernard sound smarter than we do because they are. Hannah and Bernard discuss things we do not understand because Hanna and Bernard understand things we do not. That's the point.
I agree with Laurie here about Hannah and Bernard sounding smarter than we do because in fact, they are. Tom Stoppard is one of my favourite authors for just this reason. Why on earth should he be expected to reduce the words of his characters for the sake of the audience? The intellectual spar between the two of them is fast and furious and exciting-also all to do with pacing. They are indeed engaged in a mini battle of wits and it would be no fun if they catered that to the audience they are performing before.
ReplyDeleteI also liked that you threw in a Brecht reference here- but don't forget that we have a lot of people in this class that don't have the theatre history background that you do.