THE ELEMENTS OF A SUCCESSFUL ONE-ACT MUSICAL COMEDY
If you were asked, "What is a one-act musical comedy?" you might
answer: "Let's see, a one-act musical comedy is--is--. Well, all
I remember is a lot of pretty girls who changed their clothes every
few minutes, two lovers who sang about the moon, a funny couple
and a whole lot of music."
Hazy? Not at all. This is really a clear and reasonably correct
definition of the average one-act musical colnedy, for this type
of act is usually about fifty per cent. girl, twenty per cent.
costumes and scenery, twenty-five per cent. music, and usually,
but not always, five per cent. comedy. A musical comedy, therefore,
is not music and comedy--it is girls and music. That is why the
trade name of this, one of the most pleasing of vaudeville acts,
is--a girl-act."
It was the girl-act, perhaps more than any other one style of act,
that helped to build vaudeville up to its present high standing.
On nearly every bill of the years that are past there was a girl-act.
It is a form of entertainment that pleases young and old, and
coming in the middle or toward the end of a varied program, it
lends a touch of romance and melody without which many vaudeville
bills would seem incomplete.
A girl-act is a picture, too. Moreover, it holds a touch of
bigness, due to the number of its people, their changing costumes,
and the length of time the act holds the stage. With its tuneful
haste, its swiftly moving events, its rapid dialogue, its succession
of characters, and its ever-changing, colorful pictures, the one-act
musical comedy is not so much written as put together.
1. The Musical Elements
Technically known as a girl-act, and booked by managers who wish
a "flash"--a big effect--the one-act musical comedy naturally puts
its best foot foremost as soon as the curtain rises. And, equally
of course, it builds up its effects into a concluding best-foot.
The best-foot of a musical comedy is the ensemble number, in which
all the characters--save the principals, sometimes--join in a
rousing song. The ensemble _is_ musical comedy, and one-act musical
comedy is--let this exaggeration clinch the truth--the ensemble. [1]
[1] Of course, I am discussing the usual musical comedy--the flash
of a bill--in pointing out so forcefully the value of the ensemble.
There have been some fine one-act musical comedies in which the
ensemble was not used at all. Indeed, the musical comedy in one
act without any ensemble offers most promising possibilities.
Between the opening and the closing ensembles there is usually one
other ensemble number, and sometimes two. And between these three
or four ensembles there are usually one or two single numbers--solos
by a man or a woman--and a duet, or a trio, or a quartet. These
form the musical element of the one-act musical comedy.
2. Scenery and Costumes--The Picture-Elements
While the one-act musical comedy may be played in one set of scenery
only, it very often happens that there are two or three different
scenes. The act may open in One, as did Joe Hart's "If We Said
What We Thought," and then go into Full Stage; or it may open in
Full Stage, go into One for a little musical number, and then go
back into a different full-stage scene for its finish. It may
even be divided into three big scenes--each played in a different
set--with two interesting numbers in One, if time permits, or the
act be planned to make its appeal by spectacular effects.
Very often, as in Lasky's "A Night on a Houseboat," a big set-piece
or a trick scene is used to give an effect of difference, although
the entire act is played without dropping a curtain.
To sum up the idea behind the use of musical comedy scenery: it
is designed to present an effect of bigness--to make the audience
feel they are viewing a "production."
The same thought is behind the continual costume changes which are
an integral part of the one-act musical comedy effect. For each
ensemble number the girls' costumes are changed. If there are
three ensembles there are three costumes, and four changes if there
are four ensembles. Needless to say, it sometimes keeps the girls
hustling every minute the act is in progress, changing from one
costume to another, and taking that one off to don a third or a
fourth.
The result in spectacular effect is as though a scene were changed
every time an ensemble number is sung. Furthermore, the lights
are so contrived as to add to this effect of difference, and the
combination of different colors playing over different costumes,
moving about in different sets, forms an ever-changing picture
delightfully pleasing and big.
Now, as the musical comedy depends for its appeal upon musical
volume, numbers of people, sometimes shifting scenery, a kaleidoscopic
effect of pretty girls in ever changing costumes and dancing about
to catchy music, it does not have to lean upon a fascinating plot
or brilliant dialogue, in order to succeed. But of course, as we
shall see, a good story and funny dialogue make a good musical
comedy better.
3. The Element of Plot
If your memory and my recollection of numerous musical comedies
of both the one-act and the longer production of the legitimate
stage are to be trusted, a plot is something not vital to the
success of a musical comedy. Indeed, it is actually true that
many a musical comedy has failed because the emphasis was placed
on plot rather than on a skeleton of a story which showed the
larger elements to the best advantage. Therefore I present the
plot element of the average one-act musical comedy thus:
Whereas the opening and the finish of the playlet are two of its
most difficult parts to write, in the musical comedy the beginning
and the finish are ready-made to the writer's hand. However anxious
he may be to introduce a novel twist of plot at the end, the writer
is debarred from doing so, because he must finish with an ensemble
number where the appeal is made by numbers of people, costumes,
pretty girls and music. At the beginning, however, the writer may
be as unconventional as he pleases--providing he does not take too
long to bring on his first ensemble, and so disappoint his audience,
who are waiting for the music and the girls. Therefore the writer
must be content to "tag on" his plot to an opening nearly always--
if not always--indicated, and to round his plot out into an almost
invariably specified ending.
Between the opening and the closing ensembles the writer has to
figure on at least one, and maybe more, ensembles, and a solo and
a duet, or a trio and a quartet, or other combinations of these
musical elements. These demands restrict his plot still further.
He must indeed make his plot so slight that it will lead out from
and blend into the overshadowing stage effects. Necessarily, his
plot must first serve the demands of scenery and musical numbers--
then and only then may his plot be whatever he can make it.
The one important rule for the making of a musical comedy plot is
this: _The plot of a one-act musical comedy should be considered
as made up of story and comedy elements so spaced that the time
necessary for setting scenery and changing costumes is neither too
long nor too short_.
More than one dress rehearsal on the night before opening has been
wisely devoted to the precise rehearsing of musical numbers and
costume changes only. The dialogue was never even hastily spoken.
The entire effort was directed to making the entrances and exits
of the chorus and principals on time. "For," the producer cannily
reasons, "if they slip up on the dialogue they can fake it--but
the slightest wait on a musical number will seem like a mortal
wound."
If you recall any of Jesse L. Lasky's famous musical acts, "A Night
at the Country Club," "At the Waldorf," "The Love Waltz," "The
Song Shop" (these come readily to mind, but for the life of me I
cannot recall even one incident of any of their plots), you will
realize how important is the correct timing of musical numbers.
You will also understand how unimportant to a successful vaudeville
musical comedy is its plot.
4. Story Told by Situations, Not by Dialogue
As there is no time for studied character analysis and plot
exposition, and little time for dialogue, the story of a musical
comedy must be told by broad strokes. When you read "A Persian
Garden," selected for full reproduction in the Appendix because
it is one of the best examples of a well-balanced musical comedy
plot ever seen in vaudeville, you will understand why so careful
a constructionist as Edgar Allan Woolf begins his act with the
following broad stroke:
The opening chorus has been sung, and instantly an old man's voice
is heard off stage. Then all the chorus girls run up and say,
"Oh, here comes the old Sheik now."
Again, when Paul wishes to be alone with Rose, Mr. Woolf makes
Paul turn to Phil and say, "What did I tell you to do?" Then Phil
seizes Mrs. Schuyler and runs her off the stage into the house.
Mr. Woolf's skill built this very broad stroke up into a comedy
exit good for a laugh, but you and I have seen other exits where
the comedy was lacking and the mechanics stood out even more boldly.
So we see that the same time-restriction which makes a musical
comedy plot a skeleton, also makes the exits and entrances and the
dialogue and every happening structurally a skeleton so loosely
jointed that it would rattle horribly--were it not for the beautiful
covering of the larger effects of costumes, scenery and music.
Therefore the overshadowing necessity for speed makes admissible
in the musical comedy broad strokes that would not be tolerated
anywhere else.
It is by willingly granting this necessary license that the audience
is permitted to enjoy many single musical numbers and delightful
ensembles within the time-limits vaudeville can afford for anyone
act. So we see why it is--to return to the bald expository statement
with which this division begins--that the writer must consider his
story and his comedy scenes only as time-fillers to make the waits
between musical numbers pleasantly interesting and laughter-worthwhile.
5. The Comedy Element
Plainly recognizing the quickness with which one character must
be brought on the stage and taken off again, and thoroughly
appreciating that whatever is done between the musical numbers
must be speedily dismissed, let us now see what forms of comedy
are possible.
Obviously the comedy cannot depend upon delicate shades. It must
be the sort of comedy that is physical rather than mental.
Slap-stick comedy would seem to be the surest to succeed.
But while this is true, there is no need to depend entirely on the
slap-stick brand of humor. For instance, while we find in "A
Persian Garden" one whole comedy scene built on the killing of
mosquitoes on Phil's face--certainly the slap-stick brand, even
though a hand delivers the slap--we also have the comedy of character
in Mrs. Schuyler's speeches.
Comedy rising directly out of and dependent upon plot, however,
is not the sort of comedy that usually gives the best results,
because plot is nearly always subservient to the musical and picture
making elements. But the comedy element of plot may be made to
run throughout and can be used with good effect, if it is the kind
that is easily dismissed and brought back. This is why so many
musical comedies have made use of plots hinged on mistaken identity,
Kings and Princesses in masquerade, and wives and husbands anxiously
avoiding each other and forever meeting unexpectedly.
Still, plot-comedy may be depended upon for at least one big scene,
if the idea is big enough. For instance, the internationally
successful "The Naked Truth" possessed a plot that was big enough
to carry the musical comedy on plot-interest alone, if that were
necessary. Indeed, it might have been used as a good farce without
music. The whole act hung on a magic statue in whose presence
nothing but the truth could be told, on pain of parting from one's
clothes. And the comedy scenes that developed out of it carried
a series of twists and turns of real plot-interest that made the
musical numbers all the more delightful and the whole act a notable
success. The musical element of this delightful vaudeville form
makes certain other humorous acts fit into the musical comedy
structure. For instance, if the comedy character is left alone
on the stage, he can with perfect propriety deliver a short
monologue. Or he may do anything else that will win laughter and
applause.
And the two-act, even more perfectly than the monologue, fits into
the musical comedy. No matter what the two-act is, if it is short
and humorous, it may be used for one of the ornamental time-gap
stoppers. A quarrel scene may be just what is needed to fill out
and advance the plot. But more often, the flirtation two-act is
the form that best suits, for the nature of the musical comedy
seems best expressed by love and its romantic moments. Indeed,
the flirtation two-act is often a little musical comedy in itself,
minus a background of girls. As an example, take Louis Weslyn's
very successful two-act, "After the Shower." [1] You can easily
imagine all the other girls in the camping party appearing, to act
as the chorus. Then suppply a talkative chaperon, and you have
only to add her comical husband to produce a fine musical comedy
offering.
[1] See the Appendix.
So we see once more that the one-act musical comedy is the result
of assembling, rather than of writing. There is no need of adding
even one instruction paragraph here.
Before we take up the one or two hints on writing that would seem
to present themselves in helpful guise, you should read Edgar Allan
Woolf's "A Persian Garden." Turn to the Appendix and this act
will show you clearly how the writer welds these different vaudeville
forms into one perfect whole.