Two ways to go
When you get a reading of your play, and it’s close enough for you to attend, there is an inherent dilemma for a playwright. Do you go to the rehearsals? Or stay away?
The first thing to know, of course, is that the writer has the absolute right to attend rehearsals. If you want to go, you go. But should you?
The benefits to going are pretty clear.
- You can answer any questions and head off any misinterpretations.
- You can see for yourself where actors’ tongues trip over your finely crafted phrases.
- You’ll be prepared. If things aren’t going so well, it won’t be such a shock during the reading itself.
- You get to hear the play multiple times–during rehearsal as well as during the reading—and that can help you enormously with an understanding of pace and plot and Thespis knows what..
On the other hand, you can make the cast and the director nervous. When I was wearing my acting hat, there was always a little extra anxiety when the playwright showed up. Often, for readings, the writer hasn’t been involved in the casting process and may have been assigned a director, as well. So, they can, and probably will, be wondering if the playwright is happy with the choices. They’ve probably got enough to handle without that.
Even if the actors are comfortable with you and eager for the writer’s input, you might be taking time that the director could more profitably spend on something else.
And, if you aren’t used to readings and the process, you can panic. OMG, will the leading man ever get that laugh line right? Why does the leading lady insist on whispering during the fight scene? Chances are the director sees and hears all these problems and is biding her time to deal with them. Good directors have an internal priority list. Often they know the actors and know what will right itself and what needs their intervention. It doesn’t help for you to be sitting there chewing your fingernails and tapping your foot until you get a chance to speak up.
Staying away allows you to avoid those pitfalls and offers you one invaluable upside.
You’ll hear the play fresh—or as fresh as is ever possible when you’ve written and rewritten and read and reread. You’ll be less inclined to think the reading is going well when all that’s really happening is that it is going better than it did in rehearsal. Your objectivity will not be compromised by familiarity with the participants.
In the end, you’ve got to make up your own mind in every situation. I’ve done it both ways. Early in my adventures with my play, it seemed so important to be there for every minute. And I’m glad I chose to attend rehearsals for the early readings.
I’m also glad I chose not to go to the rehearsals for the latest readings at the Penobscot Theatre.
I think I was less distracted by my internal actor and my internal director, and I was better able to focus on the writing.
I think.
The thing about choices is that you have to choose. Once you’ve chosen, you can’t have the other choices. And you’ll never really know what would have happened if you had.
