What's Different About a Radio Play?

Producing an audio play necessarily defers to the element of time, not unlike a music video or a television commercial. The producer, the writer, and the director must develop a fairly close approximation of the final version of the script before casting even begins. By comparison, the premiere of a new Broadway production often goes through a number of versions and out of town tryouts, with an audience, before coming to New York. From the start of production in the studio, the artistic team has a reasonably clear idea of the final product and therefore can collectively work toward their common goal efficiently and on budget. Ironically, the radio play's primary mouthpiece, if you will—the actor—is often and noticeably absent from this creative process, whereas she may be instrumental in a work-in-progress in the legitimate theatre. A good actor can be a writer's best ally. He can provide, and often require, an emotional architecture for the character's journey. He can intuit what's missing and perhaps what's overwritten. With the writer and director, he can be an improvisational tool for dialogue. These interpretive and creative skills of the actor are sometimes in lesser demand when the script is worked, reworked and timed in preproduction. This is not to say that the actor doesn't or can't make usable suggestions and contributions; but the world of the audio play is likely to be precise and scrutinized before casting even begins.

On the other hand, casting an audio play provides me with many more possibilities than a stage play. The classic image of a leading man, say—tall, handsome, confident—has no relevance, providing the actor can evoke an image with his voice and intentions that allows the listener to suspend disbelief. I once worked with an actor whose career was almost exclusively in radio broadcast. She had exquisite command of her voice and rarely required more than one or two takes to nail a scene. She could play a teenager in love, a Rumanian empress, a beautiful spy, a mousy grad student, a widow of 80, or a sales clerk with attitude. I was convinced she could make me believe she was anybody, on audio tape. In the studio she came alive; she blossomed. If you were to meet this unremarkable looking woman of 30 something, you may make a mental note that she could do something more with her hair or remark on her quiet personality. You would see that she is unusually short, "big boned," and graying prematurely. But in the studio she was stunning, tall, ageless, and once even played a male CEO!

I want to smell the dirt in the garden and feel the exact temperature of the lake at dusk.

This world of possibilities is often the challenge in directing. There can be so many options, so many just right pieces of music, so many great takes on the cutting room floor. Clearly the final selection and assembly distinguishes the great from the merely serviceable. I often find myself closing my eyes when asked to choose the take or cut we'll use in the final edit. Of course I want to limit my sensory focus but I also need to let my imagination take over. I want to make the leap of faith that the listener and the unremarkable looking actor makes. I want to hear what the words don't tell me. Like the actor, I must listen for the silence that resonates and for the chord of music that speaks volumes. I want to see every inch of the world of the play and then awaken the imagination of the listener with my choices. I want to smell the dirt in the garden and feel the exact temperature of the lake at dusk. The audio play is successful in production when the story is fully apprehended with all the senses.

David Zoffoli is an associate director and director of education at Merrimack Repertory Theatre, Lowell, Mass.