More plays read

I've continued reading plays for the last two weeks or so, and was able to pick up a big stack of great plays at a library book sale, for not that much money.

Since then, I've read:

Comic Potential - by Alan Ayckbourn

This full-length play takes place in a future where television actors are all "actoids;" robots designed to play particular character types.  For the most part, they improvise their way along with direction from a human director.  A new writer throws a wrench into things when he falls in love with one of the actoids and decides to write a new teleplay just for her.  I enjoyed this play quite a bit - it's a good bridge between 'science fiction' type writing and more mainstream theatre.  In this case, the science fiction element is robots, and their ability to be like humans.  In addition to exploring some of the philosophical aspects of that in a humorous way, it's also about the state of entertainment in the world, where everything is analyzed and compartmentalized and standardized, so that it feels like a robot could do any of the standard roles you see on the screen.

Marjorie Prime - by Jordan Harrison

A full-length play in which the characters have "Primes" or realistic, AI holograms of people who have died.  Marjorie is an 85 year old woman who's had a long, full life, and her family uses a Prime of her deceased husband to help her remember the good times.  However, as she loses her memories, and he fills them in, it's apparent that other members of her family are editing the past in a way that makes things more interesting, or less painful, etc.

I liked this one a lot.  It's science fiction, and accessible to mainstream audiences, in a way I like.  I think everyone can relate to the idea of memory loss and wishing you could forget some things and change others in your life.  

Sweat - by Lynn Nottage

This was published this year (2017) so it's about as current as it gets.  In it, Nottage explores a town in Pennsylvania that is hit heavily by economic downturn.  She looks at characters as they were in 2000, and again in 2008.  As the drama unfolds, we can see where tensions are building in the community and between the characters, and what the aftermath is, but it's not until the climax that you know the big thing that happened.  I thought this was a gripping drama, with great characters that you don't get to see very often on stage - blue-collar factory workers - shown with a lot of humanity and detail that felt very honest.

Homecoming - by Harold Pinter

This play was odd.  It does not follow a predictable path, and feels at times like Pinter is just following various gut instincts and letting the characters go in their different directions.  Reading about Pinter's writing style, this may actually be how the play was written.  I think about some of the characters and the scenes, and the absurdism that grows on the stage as things progress, and I like it but I also struggle with it.  I'll read some more Pinter and see if I can get a better handle on things.

More reviews next week.

Recent play reading - The Newly Married Couple

I've re-upped my commitment to read more plays with a variety of perspectives, ideas, styles, etc. as part of my effort to improve my own wrighting.

"The Newly Married Couple," by Bjornstjerne Bjornson

I was browsing the library shelves for plays, and spotted a book of three comedies by Bjornstjerne Bjornson.  Who could resist, right?  I read the first play in the book, his two-act comedy "The Newly Married Couple," from 1865.  There were some interesting elements in it that I enjoyed.  The first act takes place in the home of the young woman's parents.  They are very wealthy, and have lavish surroundings.  The second act takes place in the newly married couple's home, but it's played on essentially the same set - the husband has worked tirelessly to recreate his bride's surroundings, to help her feel more comfortable there.  The conflict came down to the new bride not being ready to leave her parents.  There isn't an indication of her age, but she's referred to as a child quite often, and apparently it took some convincing for the groom to convince her parents that it would be fine.  The girl marries him out of a kind of romantic misunderstanding of what she was getting herself into.

Kind of creepy, honestly.  The young lady has a servant.  The groom basically charmed the servant so that she would say nice things about him in the young lady's presence - part of his marriage proposal plan.  So the servant falls in love with him.

In the second act, the servant has written a novel and had it published.  The novel basically reflects the newly married couple's relationship, but ends in tragedy when the groom falls in love with the servant and the young bride realizes too late that she loved him all along.  The servant reads it to the young woman, but doesn't reveal that she's the author. 

In the end, the young bride does realize her love for her husband, and they proceed toward matrimonial happiness, while the girl's parents head off for Italy, taking the servant with them.  Her parting line is that her next book will be a better one, something none of the other characters understand, since they didn't know she was the author.  It's a nice tragicomic ending, though - she tried to influence the relationship toward something she could capitalize on, but only succeeded in bringing them closer together and alienating herself.  However, now she gets to travel to Italy, so that's something.

As a wrighter, my takeaways from this play was that the characters each had pretty clear motivations, and were working toward their goals throughout the play.  I thought the characters were pretty shallow and 2-dimensional, so their motivations weren't that interesting.  However, even when a character has a motivation that is pretty banal like "I want that guy to fall in love with me," it's hard not to get a little invested in finding out what happens.  So I think that if I can create characters with strong, clear motivations, even well-trod ones, it will be intriguing to my readers/viewers.

Guardians of the Galaxy 2

Well that was disappointing.  I liked the first one, so naturally I wanted to give the second one a shot.  It was like watching the after school special version of the franchise.  The dialogue alternated between joke set-up/punchline type stuff (which was sometimes humorous), and heavy handed garbage dialogue about family.  Every conflict and every relationship was about family.  Fathers, brothers, sisters, partners.  Every conversation got all heavy and people said things about how they were feeling.  Only they didn't need to say how they were feeling because if you do a good job with acting, directing and cinematography, you never have to say how you're feeling, because the audience already knows how you're feeling, and how you feel about the other characters.  I don't need anyone to lay it out for me like I'm an idiot.  Oh, that guy might have been your father, but I'm your dad. No shit?  I never would have gotten that from the thousand visual cues you gave me.  You're my big sister and I'm only combative because I wanted your approval?  Jeez, now that you say it using pretty much those exact words, it all totally makes sense!  In fact, it makes so much sense because that's all you've been telling me visually about their relationship for the whole movie!  ARRRRRRGH!

Cutting edge theatre

There's probably some good literary theory out there somewhere that speaks to this better than I can, but I think that there are people who write plays to find the cutting edge of the medium, people who write to fill in the 'new normal' in the wake of successful cutting edge achievements in the medium, and people who write the equivalent of genre fiction - something expected that does not challenge or transform, but lightly entertains and feeds a general audience who wants to go the the 'theatre' without risking anything.  

Most of the cutting edge is terrible and flawed and messy and a failure, but some of it pushes us forward into new and exciting territory.  For some, it's worth it to see ten of these plays in the off chance that one will be that transformative experience.  

In the wake of a popularized cutting edge success, other writers rush in to write more stuff like that, explore the ideas, and map out the new territory in all it's intricacies.  Most of that is terrible, too, but some of it is amazing.  

Eventually, some of these new territories become safe places for safe plays.  You might think I wouldn't like any of these plays, but that's not true. I think some of these plays will be great as well, while most of them will be forgettable in every way.

One could argue that the great plays we associate with different eras of theatre history aren't very often the cutting edge pieces that forged new paths. More often, they fall into that second exploratory category, but many are in the safe space - these were plays that capitalized on what audiences were clamoring for and achieved a level of commercial success. There are certainly plays from these times that were more cutting edge or interesting or groundbreaking - but unless they achieved commercial success, they weren't widely produced or published.

I think there are times when audiences are more interested in being pushed into the unknown, and other times when they are more interested in exploring the new territory that everyone agrees is a great thing. I think the vast quantity of theatre audience members aren't that interested in being challenged or transformed - they want to be entertained, to have a night out, to have an experience. If they are challenged, they want it to be an expected challenge that they can safely put in a box and keep on a shelf and point to to prove that they are willing to explore new ideas.

I feel that I will have written a good play when the audience is transformed in a way that can't be undone by going home.  I would most like it if audiences find themselves identifying with characters that seem to be good, solid, right-thinking people, but upon later reflection it becomes clear that they are actually terrible human beings.

Science Fiction Theatre

I've been working on a set of guidelines for myself, regarding science fiction theatre.  As a playwright, I know that there are essentially no rules when it comes to writing plays.  Literally, anything could be produced as a piece of theatre.  That's okay, I guess, but for me to write effectively, I need some guidelines.

Imagine for a moment you are standing in a valley surrounded by mountains.  You can see a short distance in every direction, but you can't see beyond the horizon.  You can walk in any direction you want, for as far as you want, and no one will stop you.  But they won't help you either.  So you explore the valley, never going too far from your starting point.  At the edges of the valley, you see what could be trails going through the mountains - possible passes that, if properly explored, could lead to new territory.  But it's going to be tough, and no one is really demanding that you go there, or offering any reason to.  You're safe in the valley.

So I imagine, with delusions of grandeur, that if I formulate some guidelines and structure to this field of writing I want to excel at, that I might be part of a movement that forges new paths and finds a pass through the mountains into new territory.

Q:  What is science fiction theatre?
A:  Pretty straightforward.  A play where science fiction elements are present.
Q:  What are science fiction elements?
A:  Developments in science that have not happened yet - they may exist, but be as yet impractical.  Or, simply theorized.  In the science fiction genre, things like space travel, faster than light speed, artificial intelligence, time travel, genetic mutation, nanobots, and robotics are all fairly common jumping off points for storytelling.
Q:  What is theatre?
A:  As one of my old professors was fond of saying: "Theatre is people in trouble!" I interpret this to mean that conflict between 2 or more people creates drama, comedy, tragedy, etc.  In addition, theatre is a performance for an audience.  So, you need tension between characters on stage, played before an audience.  "People" also I think means people the audience can relate to - regular human beings caught up in a difficult situation, or faced with a dilemma that didn't exist before the scientific development existed.  For example "should we genetically enhance our baby?"  If one parent says yes, and the other says no, you have a very tidy science fiction theatrical conflict.  It doesn't require special effects or fancy sets, but it's still science fiction.

Pretty simplistic start, I know.  That's fine - I need simplistic tools to do my work.

Science Fiction Theatre has:
1.  A science fiction element that is best explored in a theatrical environment.
2.  A science fiction element is integral to the tension between 2 or more characters.
3.  Characters of relatable scale wrestling with the impact of scientific development.

Those are my first three guidelines.  I don't think I need more at this point, but as I explore reading and writing science fiction theatre, I may discover I need something to narrow my focus yet farther, to better pierce the darkness ahead.  Delusions of grandeur, remember?

Passengers. Ouch.

I just saw...
Passengers

First off, let me say that this is not a love story or an action movie, in spite of what the trailers promise.  The only thing that could have saved this movie for me was if it turned into a pyschological thriller, like The Shining or something, in space.

However, Passengers does explore (feebly) a science-centric question, and so as a script it qualifies as "science fiction" according to the rules I use.  There's a 120 year voyage, with everyone in hypersleep.  This is one of many different reasonable space travel scenarios that could come to pass, depending on how science develops, right?  In this case, people sleep for the whole journey, and arrive looking and feeling the same age as when they left.  It's like a fancy cruise. But if everyone sleeps for a period longer than a human lifespan, anyone who wakes up early is basically sentenced to death - a very long long slow death, in isolation.

This idea has been explored a bit before, by other authors.  "Marooned in Real Time" by Vernor Vinge, is one of my favorite examples.  In that, the handful of people still alive on Earth use technology to put themselves and their environment into stasis for long periods of time, travelling farther and farther into the 'future' to see what is there.  One person is left outside, 'marooned in real time' and dies of old age between the time when the people went into stasis, and when they came out again.  It's basically murder, like locking someone outside in a blizzard - you didn't kill them directly, but your action sentenced them to die with nature as the murder weapon.

The same thing applies here, only the person condemned to die decides they'd like to force someone else to die with them.  Plenty of other bloggers have explored how psycho this is, but in essence, Chris Pratt's character gets lonely, sees a hot girl, and decides that what he wants is more important than anything she could possibly be doing with her life.  The only thing that is important to him is that he has the person he wants.  He's a crazy person.

It's science fiction, though, because it's a scenario that can only really be brought into existence by science.  This isn't a dilemma faced by people on Earth, yet.

There are about ten different ways to make this movie better, while still retaining the basic structure of the rest of the plot; you know, that the ship is falling apart and good thing these people were awake to fix it, or they'd all be dead.

Here's one:  Give these two a pre-existing relationship.  They were together on Earth.  They broke up so she could go on this journey.  He is a stowaway.  His presence actually causes the malfunctions that could destroy the ship.  He wakes her up because he's crazy, and she despises him because of it.  He dies at the end, saving the ship, and she lives.  Unlike him, she decides to die of old age rather than condemn another person to the same fate as her own.

Here's another:  He wakes up, just like in the movie.  He wakes her up, and they have a creepy romance.  She finds out he's basically her sociopathic kidnapper/murderer, and they break up.  He stalks her around the ship, and it turns into a horrific, psychological thriller.  He causes the malfunctions, trying to force her out of hiding, and ends up being the vehicle of his own demise.  She, left alone and crazy from the ordeal stares down at another passenger at the end, a handsome looking man.  Should she open the pod?

How about this?  A couple of the pods open, and several more malfunction.  The people inside are awake but can't get out.  The people who are out have to break the pods to save the people.  They, as a group, discover they are stranded in real time, and will die of old age before they reach their destination.  They have a variety of relationships that all fall apart.  Every one of them finds some corner of the ship that's 'theirs' and spends most of their time there.  When the ship starts to fall apart, they have to come together and save the ship.  Some of them die in the process, others live.

A fourth idea:  He wakes up, gets lonely, picks the girl he wants, wakes her up.  Turns out she's really kind of obnoxious, and has this annoying laugh.  After a while, he starts looking at the other passengers, and eventually wakes up someone else.  That one seems great for a while, but things don't work out.  Meanwhile, the first one he woke up is angry that he's shopping for girlfriends, and to spite him, she opens one of the pods with a guy in it.  After a few months, they've opened up hundreds of the pods, and then discover that they'll use up all the food, air, and other resources in a matter of a couple years, because the ship only has stores for 4 months, for 5,000 people.  The remaining passengers in stasis become their food source, but even that isn't enough.  Eventually, every passenger is dead.  The crew wakes up with four months to go, and discovers the ship is a horror show of long-dead cannibals strewn about the halls.

That last idea is pretty dark.  But it's still better than movie, because at least it recognizes that there is a dilemma about waking people up in this case, and that waking someone up in this case is as unforgivable as kidnapping and murdering someone you've been stalking.

Okay, but what about at the end, where he discovers that there is a way to put one person back into hypersleep?  And she decides not to go to sleep, and instead to stay with him?  Sounds like Stockholm Syndrome to me.  But let me get this straight.  You have a floating city that 5000 people are going to live in for 4 months, and there's one pod for fixing people up?  One?  You wouldn't want to have at least two, in case there's an accident that requires more than one person to get fixed up simultaneously?  That's dumb.  Also, if the medical pod can put someone into stasis, I presume it can take them out of stasis, too.  You could take turns in it, and sleep for a few months at a time, then spend a week together, then the other person sleeps, until you both arrive at your destination as old people.

Also, wouldn't it have been great if many generations of creepy inbred children had wandered out of the forest at the end, and like, ate the crew?