Punch (86.1884)

May 24. 1884.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Play; good acting can “make” a bad Play. Advertisement can
make something of a Play. As, also, can historically correct cos-
tumes, bric-a-brac, or a dance. A Play has been sometimes made for
a mere song. Everyone went to hear Robson" sing “ Villikins and
his Dinah ” as The Wandering Minstrel. We are credibly informed
that Mrs. John Wood’s inimitable singing of “ My Heart is true to
Poll! ” makes the Milliner's Bill at the Court Theatre. This latter
I song was, we believe, introduced without the sanction of the Author
of the piece, who, at all events, did not ask the permission of the
Author and Composer of the song. We presume, therefore, that the
Author of the piece knew nothing about it. Had we in one of our
numerous little pieces wanted to introduce a song written by Messrs.
Gilbert and Sullivan, we should have asked their permission to do
so; hut if our little vaudeville wasn’t strong enough in itself, we
should not have consented to have had our Play made for us by the
work of somebody else.

So much for “ How Plays are Made.” The Public, in fact, “ makes
a Play,” and a Dramatic Author may say:—

“ That this first night
"Will either make it, or undo it quite.”

Mr. W. S. Gilbert, with his genius for Topsy-Turvyism, says that
i he always “ writes the Last Act first.” Quite so : and then, probably,

; he puts it first, and so gets it all wrong again. Mr. Sims is able to
say, that, from positive shyness, he has refused six commissions, as
the result of having written one Play is absolute “ prostration ” ! Is
life worth living, Mr. Sims ? Mr. Pinero, in giving his idea of “ How
Plays are Made,” gives us an insight into the privacy of his dramatic
| life, and tells us how he finds himself, either in an anguish of tears,
or in fits of laughter. He does not tell us how he suffers, or enjoys
himself, under the supervision of Mr. Bancroft of the Playmarket,
or how he writhes, or smiles, when “ produced under the direction of
Mr. Hare,” at the St. James’s. It was Mr. Pinero who tried to get
scent of the Hay-market over the footlights of the St. James’s,—he
has done some funny things in his short time—and haymaking and
playmaking are much the same to Mr. Pinero.

But how are Plays written ?—how are they composed ? is what the

P. M. G.’s young and honest inquirer really wants to know, though
this is precisely what he doesn’t say in so many words.

Here is Our Own .Receipt from our Play-Book:—First catch your
Play; that is, your plot. Settle its locality. This done, go there and
imbue yourself with the atmosphere of the place. If at Venice, in
the Thirteenth Century, go to Venice, and be a Venetian. Take
your costume with you. Dress up as your own character, and walk
about,—the night-time is preferable for these operations,—acting the
leading situations of your own Drama. If Act the First is in Rome,
go to Rome for the local colour. If Act Two is in Yorkshire, go to
Yorkshire, and acquire the dialect. If Act Three is in Jericho,—go to
Jericho. Messrs. Augustus Harris and Pettitt, who are engaged
on a Drama for Drury Lane next season, which is to be all about
General Gordon, have already started for Khartoum, and will be
soon riding towards that place to the inspiring air of “ The Camels
are Coming.'’'' After this, they are going on to the Mahdi, and may
make it worth the while of the Mahdi, or Osman Digma, or both, to
return with them for a leading part,—they are accustomed to leading
parts,—in the new Drama. This is how to compose a Drama. As
for the dialogue, that can be written at Rehearsal. Give the Actors
the situations, and let them say what naturally occurs to them. You
(as Author) will note it down on the spot, and crystallise it. Then it
will sparkle.

To secure an effective finish to each Act, chuck all your characters
on at haphazard, arrange and rearrange their positions, as if you
were turning a kaleidoscope, until you have got one tableau that
strikes you. Fix it: and then try back, and lead up to the particular ;
and telling situation on which your Curtain will descend.

"We shan’t give any more hints. These are quite enough for begin-
ners, and ample, as satisfying the inquiring mind of the P. M. G.’s
Young Man, who seems to exclaim, as the naive and gushing Young
Lady did on being introduced to the Laureate: “ Dear me ! I wonder
how you manage to think of all these clever things ! ” Lord Laureate
would find it difficult to give a receipt for making a poem ; and, to be
exact in our language, he has not made his poems, but his poems
have made him. As to how our own Plays are manufactured,— that
is, and will continue to be, a profound secret.

The Elder Sister. “Were you ever in an Engagement, Major?” “ Son of Mars.” “Well, I—ah-”

Little Ethel (“enfant terrible”). “ An, but Sister Louie’s been ’ngaqed more ’n Seven Times ! ! ”

A VETERAN!