© 2009 Richard Pallaziol, Weapons of Choice ™- all rights reserved
Why have I written this book?
I’ve had the pleasure of working with some wonderful artists and technicians who work indefatigably to create the joy and magic that is live theatre. These are people who work for nationally respected operas, professional theatre companies, high school drama clubs, middle school literature programs, and community theatre troupes of every size and composition. I greatly respect and am in awe of the talent and energy found at every level of this nation’s theatrical community. But as anyone who has seen a goodly amount of theatre can empathize, I have also felt the embarrassed pain of seeing and being involved with a lot of shows that miss the mark. Sometimes a rumbling train wreck of a show has no hope of salvation; sometimes the lack of talent in key segments of the production team destroys any spark of intelligence that might have been possible. But sometimes it is the more insidious wearing down of the audience, chipping away at their patience and tolerance until they can’t say that they have seen a bad show, but they are clearly dissatisfied with the overall result. Sometimes these irritants are unavoidable, and they certainly pop-up in any style of theatre. Sometimes the flaws are from lack of research; sometimes from unfamiliarity with the subject. For example, it always grieves me to see versions of Evita. The show is set in Argentina, but the tango singer is invariably wearing a ruffled shirt from Cuba and is backed up by two flamenco dancers of Spain, and is not even singing a tango. But theatrical flaws seem to strike with their most cruel vengeance in period plays.
I’m sure you have seen what I have seen: American actors as a group have a tremendous difficulty doing anything outside of modern realism. We often don’t know how to stand or speak or walk in a way that convinces audiences that they are watching a slice of life of a previous time.
Then there are the fight scenes, most of which seem as though the acting stops while we watch some people fight, and once that’s over the play resumes again. It’s as though there is a disconnect between violence and the world of theatre. Although these two characteristics would at first appear to be unrelated, I’ve come to see that they have the same root cause.
I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to help actors and directors deal with creating scenes of violence on stage. I’ve found that, while the techniques of stage combat are what I was expected to teach, the most important lessons I gave were on why a character fought or dressed or stood in a certain way. The blending of period weaponry as it relates to period style provides a foundation upon which the artist can create not only an exciting fight, but make believable characters within the setting of the play.
Wearing the weapon is usually an afterthought for most costumers, treated as an embellishment to the clothing (in their view something which the properties master should be handling anyway). In studying the development of personal weapons and clothing, however, we find that it is often a change in fighting style that changes a sword choice, which itself dictates a change in general movement to accommodate the same, and then finally a change in fashion to accommodate the movement. Even when not wearing the weapon, effect on the basic daily stance remains. If an actor can understand why he is expected to stand or walk in a certain way, rather than just told “that’s how it was done”, he is much more likely to be able to incorporate those movements and stances as part of his character from the earliest rehearsal, rather than as an affectation.
The props themselves often add their own headaches. Very little information is out there concerning the specifics of weapons for stage. Period style books rarely cover swords and guns, and directors and even hired “experts” give contradictory, unsupported, and sometimes just flat out wrong information on what kind of weapon is required for the play. It’s one thing to have to use whatever prop you can find due to budgetary constraints, but how disappointing when a different prop at the same price could have contributed to the story, rather than detract from it. Then there are the horror stories about weapons that are brought on stage which are actually dangerous to the actors, on occasion leading to serious injury.
The magnitude of this last problem was brought home to me shortly after I started my rental company, Weapons of Choice. I quickly learned that the vast majority of my clients had no knowledge about the items they were renting. Imagine opening a car rental company in a land where most of your customers not only have never driven a car, or even ridden in a car, but the only knowledge they have of automobiles is having seen car chases in action movies. And I’m not talking here only about community or high school theatre. I’ve seen this lack of knowledge among the very finest directors and properties masters at some of our nation’s most famous and well-regarded theatre companies.
Who am I to give advice?
Excellent question. You’ve perhaps not heard my name before, and I haven’t worked on Broadway or on major motion pictures. Instead I’ve mostly worked where you work; in the minimal budget, poorly staffed, under-appreciated reality that is theatre for 99% of us trying to make a living in this business.
But I have worked there for a long time, as actor, dancer, director, fight instructor and dramaturge. And I’ve also choreographed my share of fights; over three hundred shows, as well as a handful of independent films and a couple of video games. Since 1990 I have also owned and operated Weapons of Choice, the nation’s largest theatrical weapons rental company. In that last capacity I’ve supervised the construction of the weapons used for nearly thirty thousand shows. Over the years I’ve learned a thing or two that others may find helpful. This book is a compilation of the information I wish I had had when I first got involved in theatre nearly half a century ago. The questions answered, problems solved, research compiled, and injuries avoided tend to be the same ones show after show, so maybe some of this information can help you in your next production.
What is this book?
- It is not a book about props, but it does describe how to select, maintain and use the implements of violence necessary for many of the shows currently performed on the American stage.
- It is not a book about costumes, but it does show a good deal about the wearing of weaponry for various times and places.
- It is not a book on period style, but it will help actors portray the users of weapons throughout history, even if they aren’t using the weapons.
- It is not a military history book, but it places the weapons and warriors within a historical context useful to theatre professionals.
It is, simply, an attempt to fill the knowledge gap that exists between theatre folk and the violent props they use. The gift of theatre is that it gives us hope that by exploring the human condition in all of its many disguises we can expose the true essence of humanity – the depravity along with the majesty, the brutality and the gracious forbearance, the villainy and the nobility – and finally perhaps become better people ourselves through that exploration. I am certainly not an apologist for violence in the media, but since we are first and last artists and storytellers, we need to understand all aspects of what it is that makes this species tick. For good or ill, it includes the frequent use of violence.
So what this has become is a handbook, a quick reference guide to things not found in other theatre books. It’s the book I could have used when I got into the business many decades ago. Some things I’ll touch on briefly or not at all. For example, castle defenses and siege weapons are a fascinating study, but of very little use in theatre. Where it directly concerns the actor trying to feel comfortable with a part, I’ll spend more time on what may seem trivial but can really help to ground the performer within the costume, rather than in spite of it.
You’ll notice that I break the first rule in writing, namely, I don’t write in the third person. I know that its use is intended to show that the writer is being objective and balanced, but this writer is neither, and the third person format can’t hide that. Besides, I think most readers realize that a person is writing the book; after all, the name is right there on the cover. So I’ve dropped the artifice and will write to you directly. If you find statements with which you disagree or don’t understand, well, they came from me directly, not the all-knowing third person, so I’ll own up to them. Drop me a note and I’ll be glad to rethink my position, explain my conclusions, or include more material in subsequent editions.
I also tend to write of the actors as being male, but this is only because most parts requiring the handling of weapons or the use of violence are written about male characters. This is unfortunate, for in my experience it is generally female actors who perform staged combat more effectively than do their male counterparts. Whether it is because they tend to have had more dance training or have become more attuned to the concept of performing movement rather than pretending to fight, I couldn’t say. But when directors ask me how they should cast the fight parts in shows, I always tell them to find the best actor first, then I’ll teach them the fight. If that means slapping a mustache on a female playing Richard III, so be it. None the less, demonstrative physical violence was and is predominantly a male-centered activity.
Lastly, alas, you will find no bibliography. The information that follows has come largely from my poor memory and some random notes. I wish that I could remember which books I have read over the past fifty years that have contributed to my education in theatre, history and combat, but that information is now long lost. But I do know that I am deeply indebted to, among others, the Society of American Fight Directors for stage combat techniques, and perhaps more especially to Douglas Russell of the American Conservatory Theatre for teaching that literature, art, history, science, music, physics, archeology, politics, economics – all of these are necessary study for the artist. His book, Period Style For The Theatre, is the finest introduction to the subject, and should be mandatory reading for all theatre artists.