CHAPTER XI

KINDS OF PLAYLET

The kind of playlet is largely determined by its characters and

their surroundings, and on these there are practically no limits.

You may have characters of any nationality; you may treat them

reverently, or--save that you must never offend--you may make them

as funny as you desire; you may give them any profession that suits

your purpose; you may place them in any sort of house or on the

open hills or in an air-ship high in the sky; you may show them

in any country of the earth or on the moon or in the seas under

the earth--you may do anything you like with them. Vaudeville

wants everything--everything so long as it is well and strikingly

done. Therefore, to attempt to list the many different kinds of

playlet to be seen upon the vaudeville stage would, indeed, be a

task as fraught with hazard as to try to classify minutely the

divers kinds of men seen upon the stage of life. And of just as

little practical value would it be to have tables showing the

scores of superficial variations of character, nationality, time

and place which the years have woven into the playlets of the past.

In the "art" of the playlet there are, to be sure, the same three

"schools"--more or less unconsciously followed in nearly every

vaudeville instance--which are to be found in the novel, the

short-story, painting, and the full-length play. These are, of

course, realism, romance, and idealism. [1] These distinctions,

however, are--in vaudeville--merely distinctions without being

valuable differences. You need never give thought as to the school

to which you are paying allegiance in your playlet; your work will

probably be neither better nor worse for this knowledge or its

lack. Your playlet must stand on its own legs, and succeed or

fail by the test of interest. Make your playlet grip, that is the

thing.

[1] Should you wish to dally with the mooted question of the

difference between realism and romanticism--in the perplexing mazes

of which many a fine little talent has been snuffed out like a

flickering taper in a gust of wind--there are a score or more

volumes that you will find in any large library, in which the whole

matter is thrashed out unsatisfactorily. However, if you wish to

spend a half-hour profitably and pleasantly, read Robert Louis

Stevenson's short chapter, A Note on Realism, to be found in his

suggestive and all-too-few papers on The Art of Writing. In the

collection of his essays entitled Memories and Portraits will be

found an equally delightful and valuable paper, A Gossip on Romance.

A brief technical discussion will also be found in Writing the

Short-Story, by J. Berg Esenwein, pp. 64-67.

But do not confuse the word "romance," as it is used in the preceding

paragraph, with love. Love is an emotional, not a technical

element, and consorts equally well with either romance or realism

in writing. Love might be the heading of one of those tables we

have agreed not to bother with. Into everything that is written

for vaudeville love may stray. Or it may not intrude, if your

purpose demands that love stay out. Yet, like the world, what

would vaudeville be, if love were left out? And now we come to

those broad types of playlet which you should recognize instinctively.

Unless you do so recognize them--and the varying half-grounds that

lie between, where they meet and mingle quite as often as they

appear in their pure forms--you will have but little success in

writing the playlet.

In considering the broad types of playlet you should remember that

words are said to _denote_ definitely the ideas they delineate,

and to _connote_ the thoughts and emotions they do not clearly

express but arouse in the hearer or reader. For example, what do

"farce," "comedy," "tragedy" and "melodrama" _connote_ to you?

What emotions do they suggest? This is an important matter, because

all great artistic types are more or less fully associated with a

mood, a feeling, an atmosphere.

Webster's dictionary gives to them the following denotations, or

definitions:

_Farce_: "A dramatic composition, written without regularity, and

differing from comedy chiefly in the grotesqueness, extravagance

and improbability of its characters and incidents; low comedy."

Arthur Denvir's "The Villain Still Pursued Her" is one of the

best examples of the travesty vaudeville has produced. [1] James

Madison's "My Old Kentucky Home" is a particularly fine example

of burlesque in tabloid form. [1] These two acts have been chosen

to show the difference between two of the schools of farce.

[1] See Appendix.

_Comedy_: "A dramatic composition or representation, designed for

public amusement and usually based upon laughable incidents, or

the follies or foibles of individuals or classes; a form of the

drama in which humor and mirth predominate, and the plot of which

usually ends happily; the opposite of tragedy."

Edgar Allan Woolf's "The Lollard" is an exceptionally good example

of satirical comedy. [1]

_Tragedy_: "A dramatic composition, representing an important event

or a series of events in the life of some person or persons in

which the diction is elevated, the movement solemn and stately,

and the catastrophe sad; a kind of drama of a lofty or mournful

cast, dealing with the dark side of life and character." Richard

Harding Davis's "Blackmail" is a notable example of tragedy. [1]

[1] See Appendix.

_Melodrama_: "A romantic [connoting love] play, generally of a

serious character, in which effect is sought by startling incidents,

striking situations, exaggerated sentiment and thrilling denouement,

aided by elaborate stage effects. The more thrilling passages are

sometimes accentuated by musical accompaniments, the only surviving

relic of the original musical character of the melodrama."

Taylor Granville's "The System" is one of the finest examples of

pure melodrama seen in vaudeville. [2]

[2] Written by Taylor Granville, Junie MacCree and Edward Clark;

see Appendix.

There are, of course, certain other divisions into which these

four basic kinds of playlet--as well as the full-length play--may

be separated, but they are more or less false forms. However,

four are worthy of particular mention:

_The Society Drama_: The form of drama in which a present-day story

is told, and the language, dress and manners of the actors are

those of polite modern society. [1] You will see how superficial

the distinction is, when you realize that the plot may be farcical,

comic, tragic or melodramatic.

[1] As the dramas of the legitimate stage are more often remembered

by name than are vaudeville acts, I will mention as example of the

society drama Clyde Fitch's The Climbers. This fine satire skirted

the edge of tragedy.

The same is true of

_The Problem Drama_: The form of drama dealing with life's

"problems"--of sex, business, or what not. [2]

[2] Ibsen's Ghosts; indeed, nearly every one of the problem master's

plays offer themselves as examples of the problem type.

And the same is likewise true of

_The Pastoral-Rural Drama_: The form of drama dealing with rustic

life. [3]

[3] The long play Way Down East is a fine example of the pastoral--or

rural--drama of American life.

And also of

_The Detective Drama_: [4] The form of drama dealing with the

detection of crime and the apprehension of the criminal. I cannot

recollect a detective playlet--or three-act play, for that

matter--that is not melodramatic. When the action is not purely

melodramatic, the lines and the feeling usually thrill with

melodrama. [5] "The System," which is a playlet dealing with the

detection of detectives, is but one example in point.

[4] Mr. Charlton Andrews makes a series of interesting and helpful

discriminations among the several dramatic forms, in his work The

Technique of Play Writing, published uniform with this volume in

"The Writer's Library."

[5] Sherlock Holmes, William Gillette's masterly dramatization of

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous detective stories, is melodramatic

even when the action is most restrained.

Here, then, we have the four great kinds of playlet, and four out

of the many variations that often seem to the casual glance to

possess elemental individuality.

Remember that this chapter is merely one of definitions and that

a definition is a description of something given to it after--not

before--it is finished. A definition is a tag, like the label the

entomologist ties to the pin after he has the butterfly nicely

dead. Of questionable profit it would be to you, struggling to

waken your playlet into life, to worry about a definition that

might read "Here Lies a Polite Comedy."

Professor Baker says that the tragedies of Shakespere may have

seemed to the audiences of their own day "not tragedies at all,

but merely more masterly specimens of dramatic story-telling than

the things that preceded them." [1] If Shakespere did not worry

about the precise labels of the plays he was busy writing and

producing, you and I need not. Forget definitions--forget everything

but your playlet and the grip, the thrill, the punch, the laughter

of your plot.

[1] Development of Shakespere as a Dramatist, by Prof. Baker of

Harvard University.

To sum up: The limits of the playlet are narrow, its requirements

are exacting, but within those limits and those requirements you

may picture anything you possess the power to present. Pick out

from life some incident, character, temperament--whatever you

will--and flash upon it the glare of the vaudeville spot-light;

breathe into it the breath of life; show its every aspect and

effect; dissect away the needless; vivify the series of actions

you have chosen for your brief and trenchant crisis; lift it all

with laughter or touch it all with tears. Like a searchlight your

playlet must flash over the landscape of human hearts and rest

upon some phase of passion, some momentous incident, and make it

stand out clear and real from the darkness of doubt that surrounds

it.

Writing for Vaudeville · 第 11 / 26 章