Over the past few weeks, I’ve been a bit busy and haven’t had the time or inclination to update The Director Sector regularly, with the exception of a few “here’s what i’m up to these days” posts.  Now, though, I’m getting settled into Chicago and I’m ready to start thinking theatre again.

Last night, I discussed with a friend of mine some ideas for plays that I had in my head.  After I finished my explanations, she said, basically, “What’s the point?”

So here’s my question of the day for you guys:
If you have to explicity explain the reasoning behind why you did what you did, or explicitly explain the moral or the lesson or whatever it is that you want the audience to take away from the play, should you even do the play at all?  If they miss the point and walk away from the show confused, have you lost them?

The two ideas that I have don’t have traditional plots, per se, but are more experiments in messing around with time, space, and possibilities.  They’re not about the characters, but more about whichever element I’m messing with at the moment.

Thoughts?  Do you need more specific examples?

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Adam strolls onstage, dressed as an Irish priest. He has a cigarette hanging from his lips, his hands clasped together into something that looks sorta-kinda holy. The audience laughs hysterically at his entrance. Up until this point, he had been dressed as a school teacher who did drugs and talked about fucking his students, and now, a priest? Hilarious!

“Oh Adam,” Carver says. “I’m glad you’re here, too. I need your help.”

“We all need each other, my friend,” Adam replies, dressed as an Irish priest.

“I was looking through the storage closet, and–”

“Why?!?!” Adam jumps up, frantic. Carver looks back at him, slightly confused.

Silence.

Carver continues, the scene rolls on, and I sit back in my seat, a bit miffed. That is easily my favorite line in the show, and nobody else thought it was funny. Adam’s ongoing difficulty during this particular production is his speed. He rushes through each and every line. At every rehearsal, I would say “Slow down!” over and over. He slowed down enough that we could understand his lines, but we lose the inflection that comes with slower, more enunciating speech. As this was my favorite line, I worked especially hard on this section to make sure it went over well. Obviously, it didn’t.

I mull over the scene again and again in my mind, keeping a facet of my attention on the performance. By the time the scene ended, I figured there was nothing I could do at this point to improve the audience reception.

The lights come back up. The show continues.

Oh well. Win some, lose some.