It's the Intermission
A Creative Coffee Break

The ensemble play I’ve recently ‘finished’ runs approx. 90 minutes with no intermission. Generally, I like intermissions. A lot. It’s a time to ponder what’s happened on stage, talk about the acting or directing, and how the playwright is gonna pull the story off in the second act. It’s a time for a smoke (if that’s your thing), a drink, or a visit to the facilities.’ For some it’s a time they can sneak out, maybe go home, and just leave the whole damn thing behind. I like act one endings. The goal being, of course, to tantalize the audience to come back after their break to see how the story resolves… or doesn’t resolve. Hopefully the audience comes back with some excitement about the next act; not dread, boredom, or trepidation.

I initially wrote an Act 1 ending, and then removed it. I felt the story moved at a fast enough pace to keep the audience sitting on their butts for the time required to get through the whole play. I removed it because I felt that the Act 1 ending was not a real lead in to an Act 2. It was an important moment. Yet in Act 2, the audience was in for big, unexpected shock, and I felt having an intermission betrayed the story, its movement, and the audience.

Having an intermission is a rule that allows the audience to get up and pee. Hey, my attention span isn’t very good when I gotta pee! It’s about keeping the audience’s attention. It’s not a rule to be broken lightly. Some of us do it too often, and the rest of us get fidgety and resentful. Then again, some playwrights might be going for resentful, fidgety audiences. ‘Tis a mystery, isn’t it? There are times when the story demands that it remain unbroken, and if the writer and company do so successfully, the play is an fidget-less ride.

The play I’m writing now has an intermission, a standard act one and two. The story’s also a little more linear than I’ve written in some time. You see, the story tells me its requirements, and off we go. I don’t decide the structure, the story decides the structure of the play. There are aspects of the story that are uncomfortable, and not sitting well with me. I’ve learned, though, to not turn away from the discomfort, and to keep writing and see what happens. After all, if the play is no good, no one ever has to see it, and I might learn something in the process.