Evening star., 1900-12-15
PLOTS AND PLAYS
Some of the Difficulties of Writing
for the Stage.
THINGS THAT MAKE FOR SUCCESS
Part That the Audience Plays in
Every Performance.
THE DRAMATIZED NOVEL
THE DRAMATIZED NOVEL
Copyright, 1900. by Sydney Rosenfeld.)

Copyright, 1900. by Sydney Rosenfed)
Written for The Evening Star by Sydney Rosenfeld.
What makes a successful play?
1t is a trite saying in the theatrical COM
nunity that a man could make his fortune
if he could enlighten the theater manager
on this all important point. By successful
l mean financially remunerative. Some one
has said that subject is ripe for the
| Stage until it has been exploited in every
other form of literature. This, so far as ii
concerns serious subjects, appears to be
unfortunately true
Occasionally. in the farce or burlesque
world, man with fertile imaSina ljon
like w. ). Gilbert has opportunity to ex-
ploit things for the first time in dramatic
fern and with market" success. But It
has yet 10 be shown. at least in the En-
glish language that a bold, original and
earnest thinker has made box office sue
cess by first addressing his public through
the stage. 1t is perhaps the acceptance of
this theory that has induced SO many OF
| our managers recently to place upon their
| DtaruS dram1tIZauOnS of popular novels
Very often these book plays are the very
worst form of dramatic art. The workman
| ship Is of the crudest but the drawing
| quality is there. because the novelist has
| supplied the trademark.
DramatizinE Novels.
| 1 was interviewed the other day as to
my opinion novel dramas and whether
| they had come to stay. 1t seemed very
| clear to me thar the sale of the novel itself
! is the prime factor. The novel that has not
achieved that subtle something known as
| the vogue" is not Of itself valuable
thing to the theater. However clever a
story, unless by it's enormous sale 1t has
attracted the general public, the :resulsi1g
| play would depend entirely upon it's own
| merits, which is not the case where the
! drawing quality has been previously sup
pied by the reading public. l remember
| wren Ir1iby was first brought out as a
| play. The novel had had wonderful run.
| The play was very unlike the novel. With
out gong into its merits a drama l
| may venture to observe that the hypnotic
| theme which it exploited would never have
| been accepted by the theater-going public
but for the novel. AS it was, the play
| huge success. Let the critics decide FOR
! themselves how good how poor d play
| Richard Carvel is. The public is attracic
| to the theater for reasons already cx-
| planned. The same applies to David Ha-
rum But very much better plays than
| either have been pronounced failures,
| though they were derived from much bet
| ter stories.
The playwright who takes a book that
| has Won the adventurous aid of a hundred
| editions to make it a successful play is
| very much like the able-bodied man who
| fights a cripple If he whips the cripple
| he gets no creQlt, ana III the cripple WHIPS
| him he is everlast!ngly disgraccd. The late
| Mr.. Steele Mackaye. the author of Hazel
| Kirke, and in his day as well known n
dramatist and dramatic inventor any
| who ever wrote for the stage. once pro-
| jected the aphorism that plays are not writ
| ten-they are rewritten. This is true to a
! very large extent. for in no other form of
| literature are cause and effect so expert"
| mental
| Success Failure.
| ic hot fIy fri-
| fling incident can make or mar the financial
! value of play. The ringing down of the
! curtain an instant too soon or an instant
| too late has many time decided the sue
| cess or failure of a production The late
| Dion Boucicault, recognized master of
! stagecraft, has many a time waited at the
| wings on the first night of his play, ana
| when the pubiic's enthusiasm ran highest
| at the climax of a certain act has him
| self had the curtain rung down with the
| noise of applause echoing through the thea
| ter and the actors bewildered by having
| their superfiuous lines cut out without
| warning. But he felt that he had caught
the public at that moment and could not
| take any chances of losing it. OF
| course the expunged lines were deemed I'M
| important compared to the real c., max
| which had been selected by the audience.
And while on the subject Of the audi
ence. it is remarkable. as the late Frank
| Mayo once observed, how jealous an audi
| ence is of its own part in performance
| l. must taken INTO every secret Win the
| dramatist. He. the dramatist, may
| fuse, bewilder and mystIfy the characters
| in the play as much as he pleases. but the
| auditor must be ''in the know all the
| time. And it Is a nice point to adjust how
| much to leave to the intuition Of audi
| ence and how much to explain In detail
| Many fine point has been spoiled by stu
| diOus marginal notes, 1T were, which a
| quick -witted auditor has resented, while on
| the other hand many would-be subtlety
has missed fire and gone 'over the heads
| dtence has to play which must be consider
| ed by the author as much as that which he
| assigns to the actor.
| The Element of Suspense.
| 1t must not be supposed that In removing
| the element Of mystery from my play l
| forego the element of suspense. Let me Il
! lustrate. I wrote scene once in play.
| one of my earliest efforts. and submitted 1t
| to one of the few actor-managers in the
| annals of the stage tit is sad to think how
| few remain of that noble class). the late
| Lester Wallack. Roughly. the scene which
| concerned the heart affairs Of the hero and
| heroine was to be brought to a sudden and
| tragic close by the unexpected entrance Of
! the villain. who was to stab the hero. 1t
| was brought home to me after few mill
| utes' talk with Mr.. Wallack that had not
| provided a part for my audience. Crhat
| was not his way Of putting it-that IS the
| explanation now give in the light OF the
| later experience). The audience was not
|
! lain, and the very unexpectednesS of the
| finish the defect.
This is how the scene should have been
| constructed. An earlier entrance Of the vii
lain unknown to the hero and heroine.
| should have informed the audience of mis-
presence. He should have concealed him.
| self. The audience would then h9ve been
| kept in suspense. knowing a catastrophe to
be impending. When the denouement
| rived it would have carried with it ali the
force and dramatic strength Of a well-con-
| structed and lucid situation. The unex-
| pected in drama is a dangerous factor to
| trihe with. While there may be. In fact
ought to be- surprises in every play. they
| must be knowingly dealt with-the audience
| sufficiently cognizant of the preparatory
| stages, yet sufficiently In the dark to the
| final outcome to be held spelibound-Cn the
| principle of the conjurer who has great
| trick ''up his sleeve" and allows his spec
| tators to enjoy his confidence during the
| various stages Of progress.
| PIaywrights Experience.
| The actor-manager of earlier days seems
now to be entirely replaced by the business
manager. 1 cannot help regretting this. 1t
seems to me like running a magazine with