(Okay, so I had to steal the title. What can I say?)
Last week, after the reading for my play A Pound of Flesh & The Devil, I got into a very interesting conversation with a Literary Manager from another theater. (Quick Note: I am no longer a Literary Manager - so stop asking.) This person had seen several of my plays and had problems with them…
… and continued having problems with them, even when the conversation went into emails that lasted several days.
And here’s what it boiled down to.
When I write comedy, it’s not with the intent that it “goes somewhere”. You hear this a lot as a writer: “Where is this going?” “Where’s the forward motion?” or, my favorite “How does this serve the plot?”
Fuck the plot! The important thing is that it’s funny - and no one who ever talks about forward motion ever tells me that my writing isn’t funny. So, as far as I’m concerned, it works.
So, this is what I told this literary manager: Monty Python’s sketches didn’t go anywhere - the People’s Front of Judea didn’t serve the plot - the Marx Brothers didn’t cut jokes to keep the story moving - hell, they didn’t need a story! - and the Firesign Theatre did a lot of great work without the benefit of any plot whatsoever!
My comedies are composed of jokes hung on a silken strand of plot. Sure, the plot’s flimsy but the audience is laughing. That’s all that matters to me. Leave the audience happy; who cares if what they enjoyed wasn’t deep. People don’t always want something meaningful. Sometimes, they want ice cream!
... You can probably guess that didn’t end with a sale, but that’s okay. That doesn’t mean he’s wrong or I’m wrong. He wants something else and I want ice cream. I just need to find someone who also likes ice cream.
0 comments:
Post a Comment