C H A P T E R 5
Creating
Characters
Characters, of course, are an essential part of a compelling story and a well-constructed play. As important as it is to have a sound and sturdy plot, it is the characters that will capture the heart and soul of the audience. Our connection to the characters makes us laugh and cry, and our connection to the characters serves as our gateway into the drama’s profound world of the universal human condition. I have never seen an audience rise to its feet and cheer for the success of a First Significant Event.
Exercise #17: Character Clay
This is a fun exercise for building spontaneous characters based on character endowments from the other players. The group forms a circle, and player 1 stands in the center. The players in the circle take turns giving player 1 character endowments such as, “This character is fifty years old.” “She’s always very nervous.” “She giggles when she talks.” “She loves children.” “She dreams of being a movie star.”
As each endowment is offered, player 1 incorporates it into her physical creation of the character. The last person in the circle offers not another endowment but a physical activity. For example, “She’s folding laundry.”
Player 1 begins the physical activity, thus allowing the character to further develop in silence. At last, the players in the circle begin to ask the character questions to which the character responds. For example, “Tell me about your family.” “Where do you work?” “What are your aspirations?” etc.
A TIP FOR SUCCESS:
It’s helpful to start asking very specific and immediate questions such as, “What are you holding in your hand?” or “What type of room are you in?” rather than starting off with more conceptual questions such as “What is your greatest fear?” Also, it seems best to save the question, “What is your name?” for later on in the process. If that question is asked too early then player 1 is forced to make an arbitrary choice rather than allow her name to occur to her more organically as she gets to know her character.
For the player in the center, it’s important to keep doing the suggested activity all throughout the questioning process. Imagine that you are alone in the space, and the questions are just voices in your head, to which you are responding, rather than real people.
A great way to develop a character, in the actual course of a play, is by taking some time on stage to deliver a nice, long character monologue. Your onstage partner can help by providing inspirational prompts to keep the monologue from ending too soon.
Exercise #18: Character Trampoline
Player 1 delivers a character monologue, and player 2 provides occasional inspirational prompts to help the monologue continue. The metaphor here is that player 1 is leaping into the air by delivering the monologue, and player 2 is the trampoline that helps her bounce back up if she falls to the ground. If it makes it easier, practice by beginning the monologue with, “I remember when I was six years old . . . ” Here’s an example:
The fun of using the Character Trampoline is in learning something new about your character by the end of the monologue and making it important to the rest of the play. In the example above, player 1 can draw on any one of a number of discoveries—his aversion to cold, his latent resentment of his mother, his hatred of being alone, his low self-esteem, and his love/hate relationship with chickens—to fuel his motivations throughout the remainder of the play.
Now, although our characters must be created spontaneously, it is important to remember that they are not being created in a vacuum. They are being created within the context of a play, and in order to be fully appreciated by the audience, they must exist in service to the plot.
People love stories, and they know when they’re hearing a good one. If a character is introduced that distracts from the story, the audience will only be annoyed, regardless of how poignant the character or how brilliant the performance is. A character that exists in service of the plot is certain to contribute to the story rather than distract from it.
In order to service the plot, the character must first be “requested” by the plot. For an obvious example, if an offer in The Foundation makes it clear that Cecily visits Jonathan every Monday at seven o’clock, and we then learn that it’s Monday, and we then learn that it’s seven o’clock, then guess what! The plot is requesting a character, and that character is Cecily. Nothing will be less satisfying to an audience than if the doorbell rings and anyone other than Cecily enters the stage.
For a more sophisticated example, let’s assume that we learned in The Foundation that Monica is a rebellious teen and is about to go back to school after having been expelled for the fifth time in five months. For The First Significant Event, her mother tells her that if she gets expelled again, she is going to a home for juvenile delinquents.
So, now we are in The Foundation Focus. We know that the job of The Foundation Focus is to raise the dramatic stakes of The First Significant Event. What might do that? Well, anything that puts Monica in danger by increasing the odds of her getting expelled. The plot, then, is requesting a character to enter the story and do just that.
Now, there are many different characters who are capable of meeting this request, and any or all of them would be welcome in the play. It could be her best friend who tempts her to cut class and smoke a joint in the schoolyard, it could be the school principal who warns her that he’s going to be watching her like a hawk, it could be the gorgeous captain of the school football team who wants her to help him cheat on the chemistry exam, or it could be any of a dozen other different ideas. They would all be welcome because they would all increase the odds of Monica getting expelled, achieve the goal of The Foundation Focus, and service the needs of the plot.
Think what would happen to the story if, instead of meeting any of the characters above, Monica goes to the school cafeteria and meets Gladys the Lunch Lady who launches into a fabulously funny monologue about the school menu, and this is followed by a meeting with Linda, the photographer for the school year book, who takes Monica’s picture, and finally an encounter with Shannon, the senior class president, who begs her to sign a student petition for wider parking spaces in the student parking lot. While all of those characters might be terribly entertaining, none of them would be helpful to the story because none of them would have been requested by the plot. Even if the audience is entertained by the goofy shenanigans of Gladys the Lunch Lady for as long as Gladys cares to goof, they will ultimately be disappointed if she does not contribute to the story by servicing the needs of the plot.
Exercise #19: This Is a Job for . . . !
Here’s a silly, little exercise for drilling the creation of characters that are being requested by the play and that will exist in service to the plot. Player 1 makes an offer establishing the relationship and the location. Player 2 makes an offer introducing a problem. Player 3 shouts, “Stand back! This is a job for . . . !” and then completes the sentence by announcing who she is so that it’s clear why she’s the perfect person to solve the problem.
Here are some examples:
Player 1: | Peter, Mother’s home! |
Player 2: | Mom, there’s a spider on the counter! |
Player 3: | Stand back! This is a job for your musclebound next-door neighbor who is always trying to score points with your mom! |
Player 1: | Candice, isn’t the Vatican beautiful? |
Player 2: | Yes, Aunt, but look! The Pope is having a heart attack! |
Player 3: | Stand back! This is a job for Dr. Ecumenical, physician to the prophets of the Lord! |
Player 1: | Wise hermit, I have journeyed many years to find you in your cave. |
Player 2: | |
Player 3: | Stand back! This is a job for Reginald P. Jones, Esquire! |
One of the joys of improvising a full-length play is that your character does not have to appear on stage fully developed. In fact, part of the fun is experiencing the creation of your character, along with the audience, as it develops progressively throughout the course of the play. There are many ways of adding depth and significance to a character throughout the course of a play. I’ll offer several and follow each with an exercise.
Character Endowments
The most interesting aspects of characters are often revealed not by what they say about themselves but by what other characters say about them. The best gift that you can give your partner in an improvised play is a steady barrage of character endowments.
Exercise #20: The Two-Line Endowment Drill
Player 1 makes an offer that establishes the relationship, and player 2 makes an offer that endows player 1’s character:
Player 1: | I am ready, Monsieur. You may paint my portrait. |
Player 2: | Ah, merci! It is an honor to immortalize the image of Madame Solvant, the wealthiest and most influential woman in all of France! |
Exercise #21: Endowment Ping Pong
Player 1 and player 2 improvise an exchange of dialogue in which every single offer adds an endowment to the other’s character:
Player 1: | Professor! You grew a beard! |
Player 2: | |
Player 1: | Yes, to seek your help. You are the preeminent authority on global warming. |
Player 2: | Ah, yes! I read about your initiative on the floor. It’s an uphill battle, you know. But, then again, Simon Lapinsky was never a man to shrink from a challenge. |
Player 1: | And Professor Potsdam was never a man to turn his back on a former student in need. |
Player 2: | Simon, such a marvelous knack for enlisting the support of others. What can I do for you? |
Player 1: | Well, Professor, I know that you’re an enthusiastic conspiracy theorist— |
Player 2: | Simon, how careless of you! They have microphones everywhere! That loose lip of yours shall be your downfall, yet. |
A TIP FOR SUCCESS:
Avoid making your partner bad, wrong, or stupid with too many negative endowments.
Notice how everything we know about Simon, that he’s a congressman with an initiative on the floor, that he is not afraid of challenges, and that he easily gains the support of others and suffers from an occasional loose lip, came from the professor. Similarly, all that we know of the professor, that he has a beard, that he’s the preeminent authority on global warming, that he always helps his former students, and that he sees conspiracies everywhere, came from Simon.
In addition to offering character endowments to your onstage partners, it’s helpful to offer character endowments to your offstage partners by describing characters that have not yet entered the story. This type of “character conjuring” allows your offstage partner the gift of stepping into a character that the story has requested and the audience is eagerly anticipating.
Exercise #22: Character Conjuring
Player 1 and player 2 improvise a short scene in which they endow an offstage character. The endowment can include a physical description, vocal quality, personality traits, habits, etc. When players 1 and 2 are finished, player 3 enters as the character and fulfills the endowments:
Player 1: | Jason, Ms. Parker is on her way up in the elevator. Is the conference room ready for her presentation? |
Player 2: | Yes, Ms. Peabody, we’re all set in here. I even closed the blinds because I know how sensitive she is to sunlight. |
Player 1: | Thank you, Jason. And, be sure to have plenty of water available for her. You know how quickly she strains her voice and how horribly it croaks. |
Player 2: | I will, Ms. Peabody. I promise. Oh, and I have her entire speech written out on these cue cards. I know that she said it wasn’t necessary, but you know how sketchy her memory can be. |
Player 1: | Good thinking, Jason. Just be tactful, you know how defensive she can be. |
Player 2: | Yes, and impetuous, too! |
Player 3: | Oh, for Christ’s sake, it’s bright in here! Where the heck did I put my sunglasses? You, there! |
(Clearing her throat several times as her voice begins to croak.)
You think I’m too old for this, don’t you? Well, I’m not. So, you’re fired! |
In Contrast to Another Character
A fabulous way to create a character, that is sure to inspire a lively interaction on stage, is to create one in direct contrast to another. Neil Simon capitalized on this in his famous play The Odd Couple. Oscar is sloppy, unrefined, and easygoing, whereas Felix is fastidious, cultured, and anxious. When you put two characters like that together on stage, the scene is a veritable breeding ground for Dramatic Conflict.
In addition to creating two characters that are bound to have an interesting chemistry, this device can benefit the play in a more sophisticated way by having one of the characters serve as a dramatic foil for the other. That is, an important trait of one character is highlighted by the contrasting trait in the other. For example, let’s assume a story about an ambitious, corporate ladder-climber named Margaret and her lazy, unemployed roommate named Michelle. As part of The Foundation Focus, Michelle is dumped by her boyfriend because he’s fed up with her laziness and lack of direction in life. Following that, Margaret comes home and announces, ecstatically, that she has just been promoted to senior vice president. Margaret will be serving as a dramatic foil to Michelle as the success of one makes the stagnation of the other more prominent. Such a moment is a powerful way of bringing a character to a new level of self-awareness.
The foil character needn’t even be a large role in order to have its effect. A single, well-placed line by a minor character can do the job just fine.
Exercise #23: Character Foil
Player 1 and player 2 improvise a scene throughout which the characters are developed in contrast to one another:
Player 1: | Hey, Jimmy, look. It’s a cave. |
Player 2: | A cave? |
Player 1: | Yeah, come on, let’s go inside. |
Player 2: | Oh, uh . . . Okay. Yeah, let’s go inside. |
(They enter the cave.)
Player 1: | Wow, I bet that nobody’s been in here for a million years! |
Player 2: | Hey, we better get out of here, Barry. I’m kind of scared. |
Player 1: | Aw, you don’t have to be scared, Jimmy. I’ll protect you. Besides, it’s just an old cave. |
Player 2: | But the cemetery’s just a mile down the road, Barry. And everyone knows that it’s haunted. Maybe this cave is some kind of tunnel for ghosts! |
Player 1: | Jimmy, the scientific community has soundly discredited ghosts. |
Player 2: | Agh! What’s that? I heard a noise! |
Player 1: | A scream, from over there around the bend. Quickly, Jimmy, someone needs our help! |
Jimmy, then, becomes cowardly and superstitious as Barry becomes brave and scientific.
A TIP FOR SUCCESS:
Notice how player 2 does not allow a weak character to result in weak improvisation. The character is afraid, but the improviser goes into the cave. Player 1 avoided a similar trap. After dismissing the existence of ghosts, it would have been easy for him to block player 2 by dismissing player 2’s claim that he heard a noise. “Nonsense, you’re just imagining things!” However, he did not allow his character to impair his improvisation. He accepted the noise and built on it to create yet another opportunity to foil the character of his partner.
In Relation to The Environment
Characters are often defined and developed by the environment in which we see them. The bedroom of a fifteen-year-old, rebellious adolescent heavy-metal-rock fan will look different than the bedroom of her forty-six-year-old, straight-laced, conservative, stock analyst father, and both would provide insight into their inhabitants’ characters.
I will have more to say on creating environments for a fulllength play later, but we can touch on it now as we look at the environment’s relationship to the character. There are two basic ways in which an environment can develop a character: the character can be at home in the environment or the character can be out of place in the environment.
Imagine our fifteen-year-old, rebellious adolescent heavymetal-rock fan hanging out in her bedroom with her best friend. The room is a mess, planks of wood and plastic milk crates serve as furniture, an electric guitar is lying on the floor, heavymetal posters cover the walls, black and red light bulbs illuminate the space, and music pumps from the stereo speakers. The character is at home in her environment. She’s relaxed and content. The environment itself becomes a manifestation of the character’s personality and, in so doing, helps to define and develop it.
Now, imagine that her forty-six-year-old, straight-laced, conservative, stock-analyst father comes into the room. Suddenly, we have introduced a character who is out of place in the environment. In this case, the environment would serve as a foil to the character and highlight, by contrast, his straight-laced, conservative personality and behavior.
Exercise #24: There’s No Place like Home
Player 1 and player 2 improvise a scene in which the endowment of the environment contributes to the development of player 2’s character. The scene ends when player 1 feels satisfied and can say the line, “Wow, just like you.” Here’s an example:
Player 1: | Jessica, this is your office? |
Player 2: | I know, can you believe it? |
Player 1: | Who would have thought that my old college roommate would have done so well for herself? |
Player 2: | Ginny, it’s so good to see you again. |
Player 1: | It’s just so neat in here! |
Player 2: | Well, an organized workspace is an efficient workspace. |
Player 1: | Yeah, but nothing on the desk? No papers, no files, no little yellow stickies on the computer monitor. How can you work like that? |
Player 2: | I just don’t like everybody knowing what I’m up to all the time. |
Player 1: | Oh, but you should personalize it. Some pictures of the kids, some pictures of Bobby, that adorable, dreamboat of a husband of yours. |
Player 2: | Oh, you know me. I’m kind of private. I don’t like to open up too much about my personal life. |
Player 1: | And where did that artwork come from? |
Player 2: | I don’t know. It’s standard issue. I like it though. It’s calm. It’s balanced. It’s purposeful. I think it’s powerful, but focused and restrained. |
Player 1: | Wow, just like you. |
Notice how much is accomplished in this brief exchange. The relationship is established, the environment is created, Jessica’s character is defined and developed, and the environment is established as a powerful representation of the character’s psyche, emotional life, and personality.
Exercise #25: Hey, This Is No Place like Home!
Player 1 and player 2 begin a scene in which they focus on creating the environment. Player 3 enters as a character that is out of place in that environment:
Player 1: | Mother, the dining room looks exquisite. I have never seen the china shine so brilliantly or the crystal sparkle so brightly. |
Player 2: | Thank you, Alexis. Do get the silver from the sideboard, will you? |
Player 1: | Of course, Mother. Oh, just look at that view! Just take a look at the magnificent lights of New York City, framed to perfection within the superbly carved woodwork of these tremendous French doors! It’s heavenly, Mother, simply heavenly. Oh, Mother. Just like you. |
Player 2: | Nonsense, Darling. This is only a penthouse on Central Park West. “Heavenly” is having my daughter at home again. |
Player 1: | Mother, when Jeb comes up, you will be pleasant to him, won’t you? |
Player 2: | Of course, Darling. He is your husband, after all. |
(Enter Player 3, as Jeb.)
Player 3: | Alexis? |
Player 1: | Jeb, come in. Come in. |
Player 3: | Well, my word! This place is bigger than a cornfield! And look at the view. Shoot, I ain’t never been up this high before! Shoot, I bet Prairieville, Nebraska, don’t ain’t even got nothing nowheres as high as this! |
So, Jeb’s country-bumpkin personality is made prominent as it is foiled and brought into bas-relief by the elegant, sophisticated urban environment. It is worth taking note that we also have the character of Mother “at home” in the scene, thus defining two characters with one environment.
There is great power in creating a character in relation to the environment because it allows the theater to speak in its most elegant language, symbolism. The environment itself becomes a visual symbol that represents the character. Once the symbolic vocabulary is established, it can be used to an extremely dramatic effect.
Think again about our fifteen-year-old, rebellious adolescent heavy-metal-rock fan and her forty-six-year-old, straight-laced, conservative, stock-analyst father. Imagine that once inside her bedroom, he loses his temper and explodes at her for repeatedly blasting her music at all hours of the day and night. He shouts at her to “clean up this pig sty!” and start living like a normal human being. To emphasize his point, he pulls the plug on her stereo, turns off the black and red light bulbs, and returns the room to its conventional lighting. He storms out, leaving his daughter and her friend in mortified silence.
If the environment is successfully established as a symbol for the character, then the father’s physical attack on the bedroom is, just as profoundly, a personal and emotional attack on his daughter.
Let’s revisit Jessica’s neat, impersonal office. Imagine the story goes on to concern Jessica’s relationship with her husband, Bobby. Their marriage is strained because Bobby feels shut out by Jessica’s tightly controlled passions and closely guarded emotional life. If, during the course of the play, Jessica changed and allowed herself to become more vulnerable with Bobby, her emotional journey could be symbolized by the physical changes that she makes to her environment. Perhaps, she finally displays that picture of her and Bobby, kissing in the rain, on her office desk.
In Relation to an Object
This is similar to creating a character in relation to the environment, but instead of the place, it is an object that inspires the character and becomes the symbol. A wonderful example of this is in Tennessee Williams’s The Glass Menagerie. Laura, shy and socially awkward, is represented by a glass unicorn, her favorite piece in her prized collection of glass animals. She relates to the unicorn because they are both “different.” Finally, Laura finds herself in a romantic situation with a young man that she has always been fond of, and this acceptance makes her feel normal and healthy for the first time in her life. As the two of them are dancing in the living room, they bump into a table and knock the delicate unicorn to the f loor, causing it to lose its horn. The young man apologizes, but Laura doesn’t mind a bit. Losing his horn, she explains, was a “blessing in disguise.” It will make him feel “less freakish . . . more at home with the other horses.” Laura’s own transformation from being alienated to being accepted is dramatically symbolized by the unicorn losing its horn.
Exercise #26: You Know What You’re Like?
Player 1 delivers a monologue that begins with the phrase, “You know what you’re like?” to player 2 and goes on to describe how player 2 is like a certain object in the environment. When the metaphor is clearly established, player 2 delivers a line or two that fulfills the endowment.
Player 1: | You know what you’re like, Uncle Stanley? You’re like that old, leather chair in the corner. You’re soft, and comfortable, and always there for anybody who needs you. And maybe you’re just a little worn out in a place or two, and maybe you got some stains that we can’t rub out, but you’re still a fixture around here, and you’re still the first place we go to when we want to feel at home. |
Player 2: | Aw, come here and give your lazy, old uncle a hug, huh? Come on, we’ll sit and rest a bit. |
After experimenting with the exercises in this section, practice incorporating them into long, Substantial Scene work and complete plays. Patient character development is a great way to extend the action.