A judicious weighing of the strong points of each member of your company, and a nice balancing of their weak ones, must decide you finally in the choice of the piece to be acted. Take into consideration which characters have much to do together, and whether the weaker one can be pulled through by the stronger. The performance is sure to hang fire if a pair of feeble knees have the stage all to themselves for long, making each other and the audience nervous. On the other hand, if your company is much of a muchness, choose a “level” piece in which the parts are fairly equally divided. If the opposite is the case, give your best actors the strong parts, and subordinate the others to them.
Make up your mind from the beginning that some one is sure to consider him or herself ill-suited and ill-used. Women are greater sinners in this respect than men—more vain, more jealous. But if a piece, however small, is to “go,” each one must subordinate his own importance and his own part to the general effect. The cleverer the actor the more he will make of the smallest part. Nevertheless, the fact remains that private theatricals are productive of more quarrelling and bad blood than any other known form of social amusement. For this reason a stage manager, pure and simple, is absolutely essential. His word must be law and his rule of iron. He must give an eye to the general effect; he must order the sitting down and the getting up, and the crossing, and especially see that there is plenty of the former. He must see that when several characters are on the stage together they group well, do not get behind each other, and balance on the stage. At full rehearsals he should see that, if it is not practicable to rehearse on the stage itself, they take place on a square as large as the stage, and with each piece of furniture and property in its right place; also that the correct exits and entries are adhered to. This prevents amateurs feeling strange when they come to a final dress rehearsal on the stage itself. Any special little scenes between two characters can be gone over and over again privately.
Finally, having got your ingredients together, do not aim too high. The more plot, the more action in a piece, the easier it is to act. Beware of plays which read well, are full of smart dialogue—they require very finished acting.
A “dressed” or costume piece, though more trouble to get up, is more attractive than one of modern time. But when feasible, evening dress refines a modern play very much. Powder must be carefully put on, or after much heat and action, the performer assumes merely a grizzled aspect. In a dressed piece do not neglect the smallest details, and take care the female and male characters are dressed in the same period. In an outdoor scene, avoid an open parasol or umbrella as you would poison. It shades the face unless very dexterously manipulated. Let ladies look well to their “chaussure,” and the length, and especially the hang of the short skirts. These ought to be round, nothing looks so bad as a dab behind, showing the lining from the front.
“Making up” is a very delicate matter in a room where the audience is so near. It is generally overdone. Rouge is usually put on too low, it ought never to come below the cheek bone. Many people do not need to pencil their eyebrows at all, and a mere dab of black on the lower lid is better than a continuous line. When this latter is used, however, it is becoming to continue it a very little beyond the junction of the two lids towards the temples. For a bucolic part of either sex, a nice fat rosy cheek can be made by adding a little cotton wool judiciously rouged. Remember an “old man” does not want his eyes blacked at all.
Now, to touch on a few faults of amateurs.
Firstly, there is a tendency to play too much to the front of the stage. Do not be afraid of the stage; use it all. Do not come on and stand front face to the audience, addressing your remarks to them instead of to the character with whom you are conversing. Turn well away for your asides, or they sound ridiculous, and give the other a similar chance of making his. Remember, it is no crime to take a turn up the stage, with your back to the audience, and say a sentence, with your head well thrown back over your shoulder.
A second most important point is not to run your sentences together. Divide them well, giving each its particular character and its full value. Pause between them. Each word tells, and is put there for a purpose. And here let me beseech the amateur prompter to have some mercy on his victims, and not to hound them on, if they stop a moment, as if their lives depended on their getting the words out.
This brings me to a vital point, that of playing slowly enough. Amateurs can hardly do “business” of any kind—such, for instance, as writing a letter—too slowly.