Common practice for radio drama in New Zild, so I believe, is:
\n– the WRITER knocks together a radio play script,
\n– the script goes through a couple of drafts between the Writer and the PRODUCER,
\n– the Producer directs the piece with a bunch of ACTORS in a sound studio under the all-hearing ear of the ENGINEER,
\n– the Producer and Engineer post-produce (?) the recorded and library audio into an actual radio play,
\n– and that play gets broadcast on the wireless.<\/p>\n
Closet control freak writers (like myself) might notice the lack of the above Writer’s involvement past the writing and drafting stages, but that’s how it is.<\/p>\n
Late last year, when a radio play of mine was scheduled for recording, I asked to sit in for two reasons: one, at a couple of technical advisors’ recommendation The first day of recording began with a table read where Jase introduced me to the assembled actors, and everyone – myself included – was guarded in their greeting: the actors had secured the gig so they didn’t have to make too much nice, Jase was the big cheese in the room, and I was just the writer who’d invited himself along. I tried to put them at ease: Any time any of you wonder, “Who wrote this shit?”, I’ll be in the control booth.<\/i> The room softened a little. And if you have any questions at all, please ask. Nothing in that script is sacred to me<\/i> – I caught Jase’s expression in the corner of my eye and shifted direction ever-so-slightly – because it’s the story, as directed by our beloved producer here, that counts.<\/i> The questions started coming. Some of them were quite hard. Some of my forthright answers made Jase wince. I felt useful.<\/p>\n Over the week of recording, I learnt a little bit more about the process – having had a taste<\/a> here<\/a> – as I answered more questions, expanded on the story’s environment and characters’ inner lives, dropped and added lines\/action\/transitions where necessary\/possible, and passed on to Jase my thoughts, suggestions and general remarks on each take. Every little bit helps but I believe it was the thoughts, suggestions and general remarks that made a difference.<\/p>\n What I heard in the control booth, and what I heard in my head as I wrote the script often didn’t match.<\/p>\n In my head —<\/u> In the studio —<\/u> What mattered —<\/u> What matters in the end is whatever best serves the story.<\/i><\/p>\n After each take, Jase would turn to me – having first checked with Engineer Phil<\/b>, naturally – I would invariably nod conditional approval and pass on my notes. And because Jase blessed the production with kick-arse actors, they took their characters places that would never have occurred to me – place that make me I just had to be there.<\/p>\n Common practice for radio drama in New Zild, so I believe, is: – the WRITER knocks together a radio play script, – the script goes through a couple of drafts between the Writer and the PRODUCER, – the Producer directs the piece with a bunch of ACTORS in a sound studio under the all-hearing ear … <\/p>\n
\n— I wrote a character who I pictured\/heard as being a Maori male in his early sixties, overweight with a slightly pompous air.<\/p>\n
\n— the actor that was cast was Pakeha in the same age range, slim with a distinctly ‘white’ voice.<\/p>\n
\n— was that the voice belonged to someone who’d lived a long life, had retirement on the horizon, and who maybe, just maybe, had one last balls-and-all fight left in him.<\/p>\nlook<\/strike> sound good.<\/p>\n