I recently read a playwrighting blog about stage directions. This playwright believed it was a great idea to “spice up” stage directions, that stage directions like, “He drinks his tea and silently destroys the universe, in his head”, are a great way to develop characters. It’s the classic debate about whether or not stage directions should be as minimal as possible. Many people say no, that greats like O’Neill wrote lofty stage directions, but I say, yes, keep it concise. Before you disagree, consider your audience.
Ultimately, all writers should be writing to an audience– if you’re not, go get a journal. No writer will ever please everyone, but it is very important to please someone. As playwrights, you have to please your first reader, and nine times out of ten that first reader will be a director. Here is where stage directions really matter. Every director I have ever met is directing because they feel they have something to say, and they don’t want it said for them. Complex stage direction can be considered “directing from the page.” Since a director will probably be the first person to read your play, don’t insult them.
The most valuable thing I learned as a playwright, from a directing course was that directors are taught to ignore stage directions. Almost every stage or set design is unique, and the scene you envisioned in your head will probably look different– if you’re lucky enough to see it. Directors can’t begin to recycle old stage directions because most of the time they won’t work. You can save yourself a lot of time if you just worry about the essential actions. That’s all that will survive, anyway.
So maybe a director will love your witty stage directions and want to direct your play. You have only just started to run the gauntlet. The designer will not care what you think the set should look like because that’s his/her job. They aren’t concerned with custom tailoring the set to your specific instructions, so, once again, don’t waste your time. Okay, so you’re hardheaded. Guess what? Actors aren’t concerned with nuggets of contemplative thought either. It is their job to establish their own set of motivations for every word they say and move they make, and they won’t be looking for help within the stage directions.
The final audience the playwright writes for is the audience. Audience members don’t sit in the house and follow along with scripts in their hands, and ultimately, if the audience can’t see something, it doesn’t exist. Eugene O’Neill is not considered a great playwright because of his stage directions, and no playwright ever will be– no matter what they think. If you can’t get over this fact, and you really want your stage directions to matter, learn to write for the screen.
