Playwright, Colin Haydn Evans in his Writing for Radio (Allison and Busby, 1991) encourages the aspiring writer to listen to as many “bad” radio plays as possible.
It is easier to see the joins, the pitfalls to avoid, whereas in an excellent play it is harder to see how it is accomplished and what should be avoided.
Another period piece This Gun In My Right Hand Is Loaded is a wonderful spoof of how not to write and direct for radio. It is the classic “good bad radio play”.
In the 1960’s, when it was made, many writers who failed to sell their scripts to TV turned to its poor cousin radio and submitted thinly disguised radio plays full of inappropriate and confusing sound effects.
Also they had not thought out how to convey action and character except in the most artificial, self-conscious and unintentionally amusing manner.
In this first scene the director gets carried away by the sound effects and has cast an adult who cannot play children.
The characters tell each others things they would already know and there are some awkward and self-conscious fades in and out of letter writing.
It is really a bad TV play that has had the minimum of adaptation to radio.
For this exercise, directors and actors have fun recording your own version, and writers think of how you would change it, if it were to be a serious thriller.
The Script
ANNOUNCER:
LAURA:
CLIVE:
LAURA
(approaching) Why, Clive!
RICHARD:
Hello, Daddy.
CLIVE:
Hello, Richard. My, what a big boy you’re getting. Let’s see, how old are you now?
RICHARD:
I’m six, Daddy.
LAURA:
Now Daddy’s tired, Richard, run along upstairs and I’ll call you when it’s supper time.
RICHARD:
LAURA:
What’s that you’ve got under your arm, Clive?
CLIVE:
LAURA:
CLIVE:
LAURA:
I think I’ll have a whisky, if it’s all the same to you.
(CLINK, POURING, SYPHON)
CLIVE:
Whisky, eh? That’s a strange drink for an attractive auburn-haired girl of twenty nine. Is there … anything wrong?
LAURA:
No, it’s nothing, Clive, I –
CLIVE:
Yes?
LAURA:
No, really, I –
CLIVE:
You’re my wife, Laura. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m your husband. Why, we’ve been married let me see – eight years, isn’t it?
LAURA:
Yes, I’m sorry Clive, I … I’m being stupid. It’s . . . just … this.
(PAPER NOISE)
CLIVE:
This? Why, what is it, Laura?
LAURA:
It’s … it’s a letter. I found it this morning in the letter box. The Amsterdam postmark and the strange crest on the back … it … frightened me. It’s addressed to you. Perhaps you’d better open it
CLIVE:
Ah ha.
(ENVELOPE TEARING AND PAPER NOISE)
Oh, dash it, I’ve left my reading glasses at the office. Read it to me, will you, my dear.
LAURA:
Very well.
(PAPER NOISE)
Let’s see. ‘Dear Mr Barrington. If you would care to meet me in the Lounge Bar of Berridge’s Hotel at seven-thirty on Tuesday evening the twenty first of May, you will bear something to your advantage.
(CROSSFADE TO OPPENHEIMER’S VOICE AND BACK AGAIN IMMEDIATELY)
Please wear a dark red carnation in your buttonhole for identification purposes.
Yours faithfully, H. T. Oppenheimer.’
Clive! Oppenheimer! Surely that’s –
CLIVE:
By George, you’re right. Where’s my evening paper.
(PAPER NOISE AS BEFORE)
Yes! Oppenheimer! He’s the man wanted by the police in connection with this smuggling case.
LAURA:
Darling, what does it all mean?
CLIVE:
Dashed if I know. But I intend to find out. Pass me that Southern Region Suburban Timetable on the sideboard there. Now, where are we?
(BRIEF PAPER NOISE)
Six fifty-one! Yes, I’ll just make it. Lucky we bought those dark red carnations.
(FLOWER NOISE)
There we are. Well – (STRETCHING FOR FADE) Lounge Bar of Berridge’s Hotel, here … I … come …
(FADE)
It is easy to spot the writer’s mistakes in this excerpt; but what of the director’s? Shouldn’t he have asked for re-writes? Also what of his directing the actors?
Knowing what not to say to the actors is as important as knowing what to say. Try to keep your notes to a minimum. Leave ‘space’ for the actors to be creative. Also time is at a premium in the studio. One is always working against the clock to get the best results.
For guidance on producing a radio play read Chapter 9: “From Script to Production” of “Writing for Radio” by Shaun MacLoughlin – at the beginning of Part 1 of Writing and Acting for Radio
We recommend the following radio scripts: Polaris by Fay Weldon in Best Radio Plays of 1978, I Never Killed My German and Of the Levitation at St Michael’s by Carey Harrison in A Suffolk Trilogy, The Village Fete by Peter Tinniswood in Best Radio Plays of 1987, Cigarettes and Chocolate by Anthony Minghella in Best Radio Plays of 1988, Death and the Tango by John Fletcher and Song of the Forest by Tina Pepler in Best Radio Plays of 1990 and In the Native State by Tom Stoppard in Best Radio Plays of 1991. Some of these scripts are on Amazon, while sadly some are out of print. However you should be able to order them from your local library
We also recommend the recording of Lee Hall’s wonderful first radio play, I Luv U Jimmy Spud. Lee went on to write the screenplay of Billy Elliot.