RADIO DRAMAS

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 919, 12 March 1930, Page 7

RADIO DRAMAS

DEVELOPING TECHNIQUE WORK. IN ENGLAND "Efforts have continued to be made,’’ said the recent annual report of the British Broadcasting Corporation, “to perfect the technique of radio drama.” It is now some time since listeners to, and producers of, radio plays realised that the old method of presenting them, by interlinking acts with explanatory narrative, was cumbersome and artificial. . Since then, many interesting experiments have been made in the search for a new technique. The reflection of stage methods in the studio has become less obvious, and there have been borrowings from the art of film-making. A production of "The Prisoner of Zenda,” for instance, contained 36 short scenes with neither interval nor narrative. INTERESTING EXPERIMENT Perhaps the most interesting experiment, and one which may provide a lead for future work, was the introduction. of symbolism into the play “Squirrel’s Cage.” Out of six scenes, three developed the story in the ordinary way, while the other three, alternating with them, made use of sound effects, chorused voices ami exaggerated speech to suggest forces at work on the characters of the story. The effect was vivid.

But while the producers at Savoy Hill work hard on this matter of technique, the solution is more than likely to come from the radio-drama-tist himself. It was Ibsen, and not his producers, who in the first place brought about the change in end-of the-century dramatic ideas. A GENIUS WANTED The great wireless playwright whose genius will master his medium, and who will set the standard of technique for lesser dramatists, has not yet appeared. On some grounds there is nothing alarming in this fact. Shakespeare did not bring his greatness to the theatre during its first seven years of existence. Unfortunately, however, unless the whole policy of broadcasting has been overhauled and revised, the Shakespeare of wireless may not appear during the first 70 years! He has few incentives to do so. As things are at present, a good broadcast play may not enjoy even a moderately “long run.” It is here tonight and gone tomorrow. This is not the fault of any particular individual or individuals, and it is difficult to see how it could be otherwise. None the less, because of this drawback, writers are somewhat chary of submitting work which involves far longer in writing than in being "over and done with.” In another respect broadcasting deters the dramatist. Compared with the theatre, the "message" of a broadcast play receives little attention. A wireless audience, though probably totalling more in one night than that of a playhouse in six months is, by virtue of its daily programme-changes, more casual iu its interpretations. And even in the matter of helpful criticism,, the radioplaywright finds that help comes too late for him to profit much by it. QUESTION OF PAYMENT Finally, there is the matter of payment. It is true that a. genuine artist finds a great profit from the joy of his work. At the same time, his ordinary human nature is repelled by the “garret” idea of art. He has a right fo—and asks for—as much material comfort as auy other craftsman. But radio plays—written to the exclusion of other things—do not provide the means of getting such comfort. And. as has been said by others, the path of glory (unencumbered by money) leads to unpleasant ends. So, until the conditions of presenta- j tion are more encouraging, the possible genius of radio-dramatic tech- I nique cannot be blamed if he turns his at:entions to other literary fields j