So what goes into making a Fringe festival play? As luck would have it, I have been a Fringe Festival participant since 2008’s Fringe Festival. In 2009, I directed Ryan M. Sero’s A Modicum of Freedom, which won the Pick of the Fringe award, surprising and thrilling all involved.

Audiences only see ten days of what can often be several months of work (sometimes more).  So how does a play come to appear at the Hamilton Fringe? It’s a unique process, and often unique to each production, but here are the major steps:

1. Concept and choices

One of the great things about the Fringe festival is that there are no real limits as far as content goes. Scripts do not need to be submitted for final approval, so your options appear limitless. And to a large degree, they are. Shows can range from absurdist comedy to stark realism. And that’s just if you stick with a narrative show; last year’s Best of Fringe winner was a one-man show by Nicholas Wallace a “practitioner of the art of astonishment”.

Limits do exist.  Logistically, anyway.  You have technical limits, time limits, and space limits, but these are in place to keep the Fringe what it is; it’s impossible to have 27 shows in four venues if all 27 shows are large-scale productions.

2. Writing

Once you have your concept, and assuming you’ve decided to do an original work, the writing stage begins. Every writer does things a little differently, but the process is generally a time-consuming one. Some shows will rely more heavily on improvisation; others are meticulously scripted down to every pause. It’s also not uncommon for scripts to have several readings between the first draft and the final draft. In some
cases, the casting may even require re-writes. Some shows will even have preview performances and then make changes according to the audience’s response. In many ways, it’s the hardest part of the process.

3. Casting, Rehearsing and Preparing

Like everything else in the Fringe, there’s no hard and fast rule about how to do this, but in general, plays have at least a few weeks of steady rehearsals before they hit the stage. Auditioning actors can be a tricky experience; on the one hand, there’s not really a shortage of talent in Hamilton. But on the other, talented actors can change your initial ideas and concepts. Whether it’s for the better or not can vary wildly.

Rehearsing is the next step. Directors handle this very differently from each other; even textbooks will tell you to just figure out what method works best for you. Some directors favour a collaborative approach (myself included), while others have a distinct vision that must be met. Others will wind up somewhere in the middle. Speaking from experience, and I find this to be true for most decision-making processes, all of us are smarter than one of us. Great ideas you never thought of can be the first instinct of someone else.

4. Putting the show on

Another Fringe limitation? You need to set your technical ambitions low. It’s typical of most amateur shows to have at least a day of tech to set up equipment and work out any kinks. Fringe shows only have a few hours. Again, this is to accommodate many shows. Limitations need not be seen as road blocks, however; if anything, it can help create more engaging theatre. You have to keep things interesting without the option of spectacle.

Opening shows can be stressful for any reason, and few of them are rational. Timing is everything in theatre, especially when you have only an hour booked in the theatre. Even still, it seems like every unexpected pause will bring disaster. It won’t, but that doesn’t matter to you at that point. That pause could mean they’ve forgotten pages upon pages of dialogue. Even if you know your actors are gifted in every conceivable way, you’ll still be anticipating disaster. It’s a deeply irrational part of the process, and there’s not much to do about it.

Reading reviews can be equally stressful; I suppose one reason I’m not as harsh as I could be as a critic is that I know that nobody ever intends to make poor art. Even George Clooney hates reading his own reviews. Thankfully, the Fringe critics range from community reviewers (many of whom are artists themselves) to professional critics from The View and The Hamilton Spectator. A wide range of opinions are presented.

And if critics do hate your play, there’s countless examples of great films, music and TV shows that critics just didn’t “get.” You’ll be in good company.

5. Fringe community     

Then comes the best part of the Fringe, and why I keep coming back: fellowship with other artists. The Fringe is where many, many talented artists feel at home. It’s encouraging to see not just a collection of artists in Hamilton, but a community of artists. I’m sure there’s minor rivalries between companies, but there’s still a sense of camaraderie. Maybe we’re always looking for the star of our next play, the perfect
director for our next script, or even some fresh ideas to put our own spin on. Or maybe we just want to see 10 days of solid theatre. In any case, it’s an experience like no other.