When I was a gawky teen, I had a love affair with the theatre. When I wasn’t onstage, you’d find me backstage – shifting the scenery.
When the lights fell, I’d make my way across the boards, move the sets, drop the props, and scurried away.
In those days, I was working on musicals (and old musicals at that). So we’re talking long scenes and long songs.
So, while I waited, I’d grab a book. I’d shuffle into the glow of a solitary stage lamp hung high above the wings, and bury myself in the pages.
One of those books was this beauty: Harold Pinter – Plays One.
It’s the authoritative edition of his first six plays. I blame half my interest in absurd theatre on this one book alone.
The collection opens with a preface from Pinter reflecting on his early success. In it, he quotes a speech he gave at the National Student Drama Festival in Bristol.
This is what he said:
I’ve had two full-length plays produced in London. The first [The Birthday Party] ran a week and the second [The Caretaker] ran a year.
Of course, there are differences between the two plays.
In ‘The Birthday Party’ I employed a certain amount of dashes in the text, between phrases.
In ‘The Caretaker’ I cut out the dashes and used dots instead.
So that instead of, say:
‘Look, dash, who, dash, I, dash, dash, dash,’ the text would read: ‘Look, dot, dot, dot, who, dot, dot dot, I, dot, dot, dot, dot.’
So it’s possible to deduce from this that dots are more popular than dashes and that’s why The Caretaker had a longer run than The Birthday Party.
The Caretaker went on to win the Best Play award in Evening Standard Theatre Awards.
Of course, it’s not about the punctuation. That’s not the lesson here. It’s the unknowability of success – and how to get there.
The dots and dashes are superficial, but easy to measure.
What’s harder to measure?
- The effect your words had on the audience a week later.
- The cultural and political sway of those who came to see your work.
- The mood your reviewer was in before they came to see your play.
Success is rarely the result of a singular, easily identifiable cause. Instead, it emerges from a rogue combination of skill, effort, timing, and a touch of the unpredictable.
It’s certainly not the mere choice between dots and dashes.
Even if you are Harold Pinter.
