Who's the King of the Castle?

He sits, stewing on his armchair throne,
drinking his whiskey, in the house alone -
the King in his castle's been overthrown
in a battle of clashing beliefs.

Challenged by his son who has changed his team,
suggesting that all they believe is not as it seems -
For his family, his kingdom, what does all of this mean,
when their loyalties now lie divided?

Who among them has faith, and who does religion?
Is it living and breathing or outdated tradition?
Are the foundations solid that they have their hopes pinned on?
Or will their worlds come crashing down?

***

We have been talking alot about bad poetry in my playwriting class this term and it was suggested that we all try to write a bad poem about our play. The above is my attempt at the exercise.

The Power of a Story

I was up in Glasgow last weekend visiting my Dad and, as an early Father's Day treat, I took him to see David Greig's Dunsinane at the Citizens' Theatre.

The National Theatre of Scotland - who present the Royal Shakespeare Company production in association with Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh - describe the play as:

A vision of one man’s attempt to restore peace in a country ravaged by war.

The parallels in Greig's story to present day are striking. As the Sunday Times puts it:
David Greig gleefully seizes on Shakespeare's tragedy and writes a thrilling sequel for the RSC that has more to do with the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan than with 11th-century Scotland.

Greig's witty and poetic script along with some utterly captivating performances make for a stunning piece of theatre, in my opinion, theatre just as it should be.

It reminded me of a lecture we had at university from Dougie Irvine, Artistic Director of Visible Fictions Theatre Company. Visible Fictions are a company dedicated to making theatre for children and young people. I remember he told us about their belief in the power of a story. He compared the work they do to the work in the Theatre-in-Education movement, telling us that, for Visible Fictions, they do not set out to teach their audiences through their work, like in TiE, but actually by the nature of theatre, there is often a massive amount to come out of a production that touches people's hearts and makes them question and think. Dunsinane definately touched my heart and the fact that I am still thinking about it, and all that it stirred up in me, over a week and a half later suggests that he was, in fact, right.

It seems to be a recurring tension that keeps cropping up for me - this tension between theatre and theatre-in-education, between preaching and facilitating. I think that the approach Visible Fictions take to their work is an incredibly brave one. It feels somehow easier to make sure that our audience definately get the point that we want to make by saying it plainly and making it obvious... but doesn't that take the theatricality out of it? Doesn't that engage the intellect and miss the heart?

It's moved me to think about Jesus and His use of stories in His teaching. Jesus told countless parables to make His point, using culturally relevant associations and characters to make a point, but rarely did He break down exactly what He meant by each part of the story, because His skill in weaving and telling stories was so great that He didn't need to. Jesus believed in the power of the story he was telling to convict the hearts of the people He told.

If I am indeed working at being more Christ-like (as professing myself as Christian would suggest) then I can't ignore the example that He has set out for us. I want to be telling stories, like Jesus did, that convict the heart, stories with characters that are so real and absorbing that we can't help but be drawn in. The hard part of that is that I relinquish all control. This is something I have been battling with as I have taken my playwriting classes this year - the need to lay down my agenda and allow the character's own voices freedom from censorship. The moment I lay down the opportunity to preach a point I open a door to the possibility that some members of the audience will leave without having received the message that I might have intended. But I also open a door to a much more credible, real and moving piece of theatre.

What is required, then, is faith. Faith in the power of a story to touch people's hearts. Faith in mankind to have empathy and compassion on the characters we present. And of course, ultimately, faith in Jesus, in the example He showed us, but also in His sovreignty and the supernatural work of His Spirit to stir and move us.

Censorship

I've been taking a playwriting class since January and I'm currently working on my first play. It's been an incredible learning curve already! When I started the class I had a very clear message that I wanted my play to state for the audience, my whole purpose was to tell them what I wanted them to hear but I have found that the more I write and the more the characters take on a life of their own, the less I am able to put words into their mouths that speak the message I initially intended. That is not to say that I feel I have lost the whole theme that I began with, if anything I have probably gone deeper into that theme than had I stuck firmly to my intended message. It is an interesting dilema to face, on one hand I am over the moon that the characters are coming to life but on the other I am having to battle with myself to let go of ideals that I carried into the project to begin with.

The whole thing has left me pondering the issue of censorship. If I want to tell a real story through characters who are believable, if I want to stick to their truth and only put words in their mouth that they would say, how much of what I want to say is compromised? And further still, can I stop them saying things that I personally would rather they didn't say?

Take for example, profane language - if the character is in a pressure situation where they would, being true to themselves, rhyme off a string of expletives, must I allow them to do that? Does the scene and the character lose an element of truth if I censor what they say? I feel that most likely the answer is yes, but that throws up further complications for me.

As a follower of Jesus, I want for all that I do and create to glorify Him. Can I create a play that doesn't compromise anything of what the characters would do or say while still glorifying God?

I think so.

The things of the world which used to be censored in the media seem to be censored less and less, in many ways there is no escaping them. Perhaps instead of attempting to brush over them and ignore them what we need to do is face them head on? We were not called to bury our heads in the sand. We were not given a spirit of timidity but one of courage and boldness. We're never going to create convicting theatre if we gloss over the way the world really is. And how much brighter does the light shine when we see it next to the darkness?