CHAPTER VIII

THE STRUCTURAL ELEMENTS OF TWO-ACT MATERIAL

It is very likely that in your study of "The German Senator" and

"The Art of Flirtation," there has crossed your mind this thought:

Both the monologue and the two-act are composed of points and gags.

The only difference--besides the merely physical difference of two

persons delivering the gags and the greater amount of business

used to "get them over" [1]--lies in the way the gags are constructed.

The very same gags--twisted just a little differently--would do

equally well for either the monologue or the two-act.

[1] To _get over_ a vaudeville line or the entire act, means to

make it a success--to make it get over the foot-lights so that the

audience may see and appreciate it, or "get" it.

I. THE INDIVIDUAL TWIST OF THE TWO-ACT

There is just enough truth in this to make it seem an illuminating

fact. For instance, take the "janitor point" in "The German

Senator." We may imagine the characters of a two-act working up

through a routine, and then one saying to the other:

A child can go to school for nothing, and when he grows up to

be a man and he is thoroughly educated he can go into the public

school and be a teacher and get fifty dollars a month.

The other swiftly saying:

And the janitor gets ninety-five.

There would be a big laugh in this arrangement of this particular

gag, without a doubt. But only a few points of "The German Senator"

could be used for a two-act, with nearly as much effect as in the

monologue form. For instance, take the introduction. Of course,

that is part and parcel of the monologue form, and therefore seems

hardly a fair example, yet it is particularly suggestive of the

unique character of much monologic material.

But take the series of points in "The German Senator," beginning:

"We were better off years ago than we are now." Picture the effect

if one character said:

Look at Adam in the Garden of Eat-ing.

2nd

Life to him was a pleasure.

1st

There was a fellow that had nothing to worry about.

2nd

Anything he wanted he could get.

1st

But the old fool had to get lonesome.

2nd

And that's the guy that started all our trouble etc. etc. etc.

Even before the fourth speech it all sounded flat and tiresome,

didn't it? Almost unconsciously you compared it with the brighter

material in "The Art of Flirtation." But, you may say: "If the

business had been snappy and funny, the whole thing would have

raised a laugh."

How could business be introduced in this gag--without having the

obvious effect of being lugged in by the heels? Business, to be

effective, must be the body of the material's soul. The material

must suggest the business, so it will seem to be made alive by it.

It must be as much the obvious result of the thought as when your

hand would follow the words, "I'm going to give you this. Here,

take it."

Herein lies the reason why two-act material differs from monologic

material. Experience alone can teach you to "feel" the difference

unerringly.

Yet it is in a measure true that some of the points and gags that

are used in many monologues--rarely the anecdotal gag, however,

which must be acted out in non-two-act form--would be equally

effective if differently treated in the two-act. But often this

is not due so much to the points themselves as to the fault of the

writer in considering them monologic points.

The underlying cause of many such errors may be the family likeness

discernible in all stage material. Still, it is much better for

the writer fully to recompense Peter, than to rob Peter to pay

Paul inadequately.

Nevertheless, aside from the "feel" of the material--its individual

adaptability--there is a striking similarity in the structural

elements of the monologue and the two-act. Everything in the

chapter on "The Nature of the Monologue" is as true of the two-act

as of the monologue, if you use discrimination. Refer to what was

said about humor, unity of character, compression, vividness,

smoothness and blending, and read it all again in the light of the

peculiar requirements of the two-act. They are the elements that

make for its success.

II. THINKING OUT THE TWO-ACT

The two-act--like all stage material in which acting plays a

part--is not written; it is constructed. You may write with the

greatest facility, and yet fail in writing material for the

vaudeville stage. The mere wording of a two-act means little, in

the final analysis. It is the action behind the words that suggests

the stage effect. It is the business--combined with the acting--that

causes the audience to laugh and makes the whole a success. So

the two-act, like every other stage form, must--before it is

written--be thought out.

In the preceding chapter, you read of the elements that enter into

the construction of a two-act. They are also some of the broad

foundation elements which underlie, in whole or in part, all other

stage-acting--material. A few of the two-act elements that have

to do more particularly with the manuscript construction have been

reserved for discussion in the paragraphs on development. In this

chapter we shall consider what you must have before you even begin

to think out your two-act--your theme.

1. Selecting a Theme

Imitation may be the sincerest flattery, but it is dangerous for

the imitator. And yet to stray too far afield alone is even more

hazardous. Successful vaudeville writers are much like a band of

Indians marching through an enemy's country--they follow one another

in single file, stepping in each other's footprints. In other

words, they obey the rules of their craft, but their mental strides,

like the Indians' physical footsteps, are individual and distinct.

2. Fundamental Themes

Experience has taught effective writers that certain definite

themes are peculiarly adaptable to two-act form and they follow

them. But success comes to them not because they stick to certain

themes only--they win because they vary these fundamental themes

as much as they can and still remain within the limits of proved

theatrical success.

(a) _The Quarrel Theme_. Search my memory as diligently as I may,

I cannot now recall a single successful two-act that has not had

somewhere in its routine a quarrel, while many of the most successful

two-acts I remember have been constructed with a quarrel as their

routine motives.

With this observation in mind, re-read "The Art of Flirtation" and

you will discover that the biggest laughs precede, arise from, or

are followed by quarrels. Weber and Fields in their list of the

most humorous business, cite not only mildly quarrelsome actions,

but actually hostile and seemingly dangerous acts. The more hostile

and the more seemingly dangerous they are, the funnier they are.

Run through the Cohan list and you will discover that nearly every

bit of business there reported is based on a quarrel, or might

easily lead to a fight.

(b) _The "Fool" Theme_. To quote again from Weber and Fields:

There are two other important items in human nature that we have

capitalized along with others to large profit. Human nature,

according to the way we analyzed it, is such a curious thing

that it will invariably find cause for extreme mirth in seeing

some other fellow being made a fool of, no matter who that fellow

may be, and in seeing a man betting on a proposition when he

cannot possibly win. We figured it out, in the first place,

that nothing pleased a man much more than when he saw another

man being made to look silly in the eyes of others.

For example, don't you laugh when you observe a dignified looking

individual strutting down the street wearing a paper tail that

has been pinned to his coat by some mischievous boys? [1]

[1] From the Weber and Fields article already quoted.

Note how the "fool" theme runs all through "The Art of Flirtation."

Go to see as many two-acts as you can and you will find that one

or another of the characters is always trying to "show up" the

other.

(c) _The "Sucker" Theme_.

As for the quirk in human nature that shows great gratification

at the sight of a man betting on something where he is bound to

be the loser: in inelegant language, this relates simply to the

universal impulse to laugh at a "sucker." It is just like

standing in front of a sideshow tent after you have paid your

good money, gone in, and been "stung," and laughing at everyone

else who pays his good money, comes out, and has been equally

"stung." You laugh at a man when he loses the money he has bet

on a race that has already been run when the wager has been

posted. You laugh at a man who bets a man ten dollars "receive"

is spelled "recieve," when you have just looked at the

dictionary and appreciate that he hasn't a chance. . . . Comedy

that lives year after year--no matter whether you choose to call

it "refined" or not--never comes to its exploiters by accident.

The intrinsic idea, the germ, may come accidentally; but the

figuring out of the elaboration and execution of the comedy takes

thinking and a pretty fair knowledge of your fellow men. [1]

[1] From the Weber and Fields article.

Although there are very many two-acts--among them "The Art of

Flirtation"--which do not make use of this third fundamental theme,

there are a great many that depend for their biggest laughs upon

this sure-fire subject.

In common with the "fool" theme, the "sucker" theme lends itself

to use as a part or bit of a two-act. And both these themes are

likely to be interspersed with quarrels.

There are, of course, other themes that might be classed with these

three fundamental themes. But they tend to trail off upon doubtful

ground. Therefore, as we are considering only those that are on

incontrovertible ground, let us now turn our attention to the act

themes which we will call:

3. Subject Themes

What can you bring to the vaudeville stage in the way of themes

that are new? That is what you should ask yourself, rather than

to inquire what has already been done.

Anything that admits of treatment on the lines of the two-act as

it has been spread before you, offers itself as a subject theme.

In the degree that you can find in it points that are bright,

clever, laughter-provoking and business-suggestive, does it recommend

itself to you as a theme.

Here is the merest skimming of the themes of the two-acts presented

in one large city during one week:

Flirting: done in a burlesque way. Our own example, "The Art of

Flirtation."

Quarrelsome musicians in search of a certain street. One is always

wrong. Gags all on this routine subject.

Getting a job: "sucker" theme. One character an Italian politician,

the other an Italian laborer.

Wives: one man is boss at home, the other is henpecked. Furthermore,

the wives don't agree. Quarrel theme.

Old times: two old schoolmates meet in the city. One a "fly guy,"

the other a simple, quiet country fellow. "Fool" theme, in the

old days and the present.

Note the variety of subjects treated. If my memory serves me

correctly, everyone of these acts had a quarrel either as its

entire subject, or the usual quarrels developed frequently in the

routine. These quarrels, as in most two-acts, were fundamental

to much of their humor. But no two of the acts had the same subject

theme.

It would seem, then, that in thinking out the two-act, the author

would do well to avoid every theme that has been used--if such a

thing is humanly possible, where everything seems to have been

done--and to attempt, at least, to bring to his two-act a new

subject theme.

But if this is impossible, the writer should bring to the old theme

a new treatment. Indeed, a new treatment with all its charm of

novelty will make any old theme seem new. One of the standard

recipes for success in any line of endeavor is: "Find out what

somebody else has done, and then do that thing--better." And one

of the ways of making an old theme appear new, is to invest it

with the different personalities of brand new characters.

III. TWO-ACT CHARACTERS

From the time when vaudeville first emerged as a commanding new

form of entertainment, distinct from its progenitor, the legitimate

stage, and its near relatives, burlesque and musical comedy, there

have been certain characters indissolubly associated with the

two-act. Among them are the Irish character, or "Tad"; the German,

or "Dutch," as they are often misnamed; the "black-face," or

"Nigger"; the farmer, or "Rube"; the Swedish, or "Swede"; the

Italian, or "Wop"; and the Hebrew, or "Jew."

Not much chance for a new character, you will say--but have you

thought about the different combinations you can make? There is

a wealth of ready humor waiting not only in varying combinations,

but in placing the characters in new businesses. For example,

doesn't a "Jew" aviator who is pestered by an insurance agent or

an undertaker, strike you as offering amusing possibilities?

But don't sit right down and think out your two-act on the lines

of the combination I have suggested on the spur of the moment.

Others are sure to be ahead of you. You can only win success with

new characters that are all your own. Then you are likely to be

the first in the field.

As a final warning, permit the suggestion that bizarre combinations

of characters very probably will be difficult to sell. Make your

combinations within the limits of plausibility, and use characters

that are seen upon the stage often enough to be hailed with at

least a pleasant welcome.

IV. THE TWO CHARACTER PARTS

"Comedy" and "Straight"

The characters of the two-act are technically called the "comedian"

and the "straight-man." The comedian might better be called the

"laugh-man," just as the straight is more clearly termed the

"feeder."

In the early days of the business the comedian was always

distinguishable by his comedy clothes. One glance would tell you

he was the comical cuss. The straight-man dressed like a "gent,"

dazzling the eyes of the ladies with his correct raiment. From

this fact the names "comedian" and "straight" arose.

But today you seldom can tell the two apart. They do not dress

extravagantly, either for comedy or for fashion effect. They often

dress precisely alike--that is, so far as telling their different

characters is concerned. Their difference in wealth and intelligence

may be reflected in their clothes, but only as such differences

would be apparent in real life. Indeed, the aim today is to mimic

reality in externals, precisely as the real characters themselves

are impersonated in every shade of thought and artistic inflection

of speech. There are, to be sure, exceptions to this modern

tendency.

The original purposes of their stage names, however, remain as

true today as they did when the two-act first was played. The

comedian has nearly all the laugh lines and the straight-man feeds

him.

Not only must you keep the characters themselves pure of any

violation of their unity, but you must also see to it that every

big laugh is given to the comedian. If the comedian is the one

"getting the worst of it"--as is almost invariably the case--he

must get the worst of it nearly every time. But that does not

influence the fact that he also gets almost all the laugh lines.

Note the working out of the laugh lines in "The Art of Flirtation."

You will see that only on the rarest of occasions does the

straight-man have a funny line given him.

The only time the feeder may be given a laugh line, is when the

laugh is what is called a "flash-back." For example, take the

point in "The Art of Flirtation" beginning:

COMEDIAN

And does she answer?

STRAIGHT

She's got to; it says it in the book.

COMEDIAN

Does she answer you with a handkerchief?

STRAIGHT

Yes, or she might answer you with an umbrella.

This is a flash-back. But, the comedian gets a bigger laugh on

the next line--worked up by a gesture:

COMEDIAN Over the head.

Or take this form of the flash-back, which may seem an even clearer

example:

COMEDIAN

Oh, I know how to be disagreeable to a lady. You ought to hear

me talk to my wife.

STRAIGHT

To your wife? Any man can be disagreeable to his wife. But

think--,

and so on into the introduction to the next point. It is always

a safe rule to follow that whenever you give the straight-man a

flash-back, top it with a bigger laugh for the comedian. How many

flash-backs you may permit in your two-act, depends upon the

character of the material, and also varies according to the bigness

of the roars that the business adds to the comedian's laughs. No

stated rule can be given you. In this, as in everything else, you

must carve your own way to win your own business.

Writing for Vaudeville · 第 8 / 26 章