Directorial stuffs
Well, as I've been talking about, I directed (and performed in) my church's Good Friday play this year. I've directed it before, about 15 years ago. It's one of my favorites. It's called "Mountaintop," by Bob Hughes, if you're interested in looking it up.
I've been doing church dramas for many, many years. Drama ministry is where I'm most comfortable and feel I can contribute the most. It brings stories to life. Rather than just reading words on a page that were written centuries or millennia ago, it brings the people to life. These were real people, with real emotions, dealing with real problems. It always pleases me when I have someone tell me that a drama or reading got them to thinking about something they'd never considered before.
The thing about church dramas, in my experience, is that they're very much a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants experience. It's not uncommon for the first time going through a show with complete cast, costumes, and tech to be the actual performance. Oy! I'm used to this. The woman who was my assistant is not. She made a comment that I was being very laid back about stuff that she would be freaking out over. She came from a church that does big, spectacular, near professional productions. I'd kind of love the luxury of such a thing, but my brain is not quite organized to head up such a colossal undertaking. Of course, as a result, this was my go-to woman whom I could count on to get the job done. In fact, I at one point had to tell her, "Don't stress about [something]. We've got a month and a half to figure it out."
I've heard many reports that the production touched people and moved them to tears (including some men in the audience). My response is, "If we made someone cry, that's what we're aiming for." ;-)
As I've talked about before, I've taken to looking to Jensen's acting style to somewhat inform my own. It's different, of course. He's a professional; I am not. He's a camera actor; I'm a stage actor. Etc. But knowing how he can imbue even the most ridiculous or mundane dialogue with meaning reminds, encourages, and challenges me to do the same.
So when I decided to direct the play, knowing that he'd just directed his first episode, I looked to him for suggestions in getting this done. His primary piece of wisdom, gleaned from Kim Manners, is to do your homework. Be prepared.
This is very excellent advice . . . and not exactly something I could do.
Oh, I did my homework in reading through the play, planning out basic blocking, etc. But when you're working with volunteers and discovering resources and insight as the project progresses, the plan is in a constant state of flux as things have to be dropped or simplified, or you discover resources you didn't know you had. I don't know if something is going to work or not until I'm actually in the space and watching it play out, and I know that a lot of times what I have pictured in my head is not going to be feasible.
Another piece of Jensen wisdom is that you never tell a crew member, "It doesn't matter" when they ask you to make a decision. This totally makes sense, I totally get what he's saying, especially on a professional set that is a well-oiled machine. While I never told my crew, "It doesn't matter," "Let me think about it," or "What do you think?" was not an uncommon response coming from me. Primarily because I was depending on my AD so much that I didn't want to burden or restrict her with something she could not accomplish, when she herself might have a much better idea. Basically, I would tell her what I had in mind, and whatever she could come up with to comply is what we worked with. Now of course there were a few instances when she'd ask me if I wanted this prop or that prop, and I'd tell her. But when it came to set pieces, I'd tell her "Here's what I have in mind" and she'd figure out a way to do it.
Also key to keeping my sanity and giving me a crew I could count on was my co-narrator (i.e., cast member), LR, who was suggested to me by the girl who had to drop the part. This was indeed a stroke of divine serendipity, because LR has a theater background, and has done such things much more recently than I. She also worked quite hard and gave some great suggestions for the show.
And when I can count on my actors to take care of their own make-up needs, and even help with props? Yes, amateur theater is indeed a team effort in the truest sense of the phrase.
Costumes are another issue. When you have a costume closet that dwindles each time someone borrows a costume, you never know what's going to be available for your show. I was quite pleased with what we eventually put together with costumes and props and such. But my constant reminder to myself was, "We're going representative, not literal, on this." As long as costumes and props and set were representative of what we were going for, it didn't have to be "authentic." (Rather like Godspell, if you're familiar with that production.) Of course, that's the beauty of going representative--you can be much more flexible with things.
This play was written in the 1970s, before what we call "multimedia" was popular like it is today. A couple weeks before the performance, I got a brilliant idea that we should take advantage of the multimedia capabilities in our sanctuary/auditorium/worship center/whatever-they're-calling-it-these-days. So instead of having backdrops and flats, we projected stills that indicated or suggested the locale of a scene, or complimented the centerpiece monologues of the show.
Probably the most difficult aspect of this was being both director and actor in the production. I didn't have the luxury of video playback, so I had no way to watch myself from a director's POV. and I was often on the stage for my part, then hopping off the stage to watch the scenes I wasn't in. Of course, by the point where we were doing run-throughs, I had to stay on the stage the entire time (the narrators were present on stage throughout), so that was an interesting challenge. I often had to ask Geo for feedback on my performance, because I had no director and no way to watch myself from the outside. One of my actors did say that he loved what I was doing with the different characters I was playing, so that was good feedback. And the fact that I got him laughing with one of my (scripted) rants was good feedback, even if the laughter was rather inappropriate for the scene.
Biggest thing to remember with a church play: I'm not doing this for myself, and I need to get out of my own way. We're doing this for God and for that one person who might be touched by our message.
I'd love to sit down over coffee with Jensen and talk about our different directing environments and experiences. In his case, a professional TV production with well-trained cast and crew who each have a job and work together every day for hours a day, months at a time, for years--the only way to make it work is to become a well-oiled machine. Whereas my most recent experience necessitated my cast to be my crew as well and to keep things simple and flexible.
All in all, it seems to have been a blessing to everyone. I've gotten some very encouraging comments and feedback, and if it touched people, I've done my job.
I've been doing church dramas for many, many years. Drama ministry is where I'm most comfortable and feel I can contribute the most. It brings stories to life. Rather than just reading words on a page that were written centuries or millennia ago, it brings the people to life. These were real people, with real emotions, dealing with real problems. It always pleases me when I have someone tell me that a drama or reading got them to thinking about something they'd never considered before.
The thing about church dramas, in my experience, is that they're very much a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants experience. It's not uncommon for the first time going through a show with complete cast, costumes, and tech to be the actual performance. Oy! I'm used to this. The woman who was my assistant is not. She made a comment that I was being very laid back about stuff that she would be freaking out over. She came from a church that does big, spectacular, near professional productions. I'd kind of love the luxury of such a thing, but my brain is not quite organized to head up such a colossal undertaking. Of course, as a result, this was my go-to woman whom I could count on to get the job done. In fact, I at one point had to tell her, "Don't stress about [something]. We've got a month and a half to figure it out."
I've heard many reports that the production touched people and moved them to tears (including some men in the audience). My response is, "If we made someone cry, that's what we're aiming for." ;-)
As I've talked about before, I've taken to looking to Jensen's acting style to somewhat inform my own. It's different, of course. He's a professional; I am not. He's a camera actor; I'm a stage actor. Etc. But knowing how he can imbue even the most ridiculous or mundane dialogue with meaning reminds, encourages, and challenges me to do the same.
So when I decided to direct the play, knowing that he'd just directed his first episode, I looked to him for suggestions in getting this done. His primary piece of wisdom, gleaned from Kim Manners, is to do your homework. Be prepared.
This is very excellent advice . . . and not exactly something I could do.
Oh, I did my homework in reading through the play, planning out basic blocking, etc. But when you're working with volunteers and discovering resources and insight as the project progresses, the plan is in a constant state of flux as things have to be dropped or simplified, or you discover resources you didn't know you had. I don't know if something is going to work or not until I'm actually in the space and watching it play out, and I know that a lot of times what I have pictured in my head is not going to be feasible.
Another piece of Jensen wisdom is that you never tell a crew member, "It doesn't matter" when they ask you to make a decision. This totally makes sense, I totally get what he's saying, especially on a professional set that is a well-oiled machine. While I never told my crew, "It doesn't matter," "Let me think about it," or "What do you think?" was not an uncommon response coming from me. Primarily because I was depending on my AD so much that I didn't want to burden or restrict her with something she could not accomplish, when she herself might have a much better idea. Basically, I would tell her what I had in mind, and whatever she could come up with to comply is what we worked with. Now of course there were a few instances when she'd ask me if I wanted this prop or that prop, and I'd tell her. But when it came to set pieces, I'd tell her "Here's what I have in mind" and she'd figure out a way to do it.
Also key to keeping my sanity and giving me a crew I could count on was my co-narrator (i.e., cast member), LR, who was suggested to me by the girl who had to drop the part. This was indeed a stroke of divine serendipity, because LR has a theater background, and has done such things much more recently than I. She also worked quite hard and gave some great suggestions for the show.
And when I can count on my actors to take care of their own make-up needs, and even help with props? Yes, amateur theater is indeed a team effort in the truest sense of the phrase.
Costumes are another issue. When you have a costume closet that dwindles each time someone borrows a costume, you never know what's going to be available for your show. I was quite pleased with what we eventually put together with costumes and props and such. But my constant reminder to myself was, "We're going representative, not literal, on this." As long as costumes and props and set were representative of what we were going for, it didn't have to be "authentic." (Rather like Godspell, if you're familiar with that production.) Of course, that's the beauty of going representative--you can be much more flexible with things.
This play was written in the 1970s, before what we call "multimedia" was popular like it is today. A couple weeks before the performance, I got a brilliant idea that we should take advantage of the multimedia capabilities in our sanctuary/auditorium/worship center/whatever-they're-calling-it-these-days. So instead of having backdrops and flats, we projected stills that indicated or suggested the locale of a scene, or complimented the centerpiece monologues of the show.
Probably the most difficult aspect of this was being both director and actor in the production. I didn't have the luxury of video playback, so I had no way to watch myself from a director's POV. and I was often on the stage for my part, then hopping off the stage to watch the scenes I wasn't in. Of course, by the point where we were doing run-throughs, I had to stay on the stage the entire time (the narrators were present on stage throughout), so that was an interesting challenge. I often had to ask Geo for feedback on my performance, because I had no director and no way to watch myself from the outside. One of my actors did say that he loved what I was doing with the different characters I was playing, so that was good feedback. And the fact that I got him laughing with one of my (scripted) rants was good feedback, even if the laughter was rather inappropriate for the scene.
Biggest thing to remember with a church play: I'm not doing this for myself, and I need to get out of my own way. We're doing this for God and for that one person who might be touched by our message.
I'd love to sit down over coffee with Jensen and talk about our different directing environments and experiences. In his case, a professional TV production with well-trained cast and crew who each have a job and work together every day for hours a day, months at a time, for years--the only way to make it work is to become a well-oiled machine. Whereas my most recent experience necessitated my cast to be my crew as well and to keep things simple and flexible.
All in all, it seems to have been a blessing to everyone. I've gotten some very encouraging comments and feedback, and if it touched people, I've done my job.