Both plot-driven films and book musicals fall into the same general category, drama. Other dramatic art forms include straight plays and novels. Drama is defined as “a composition in prose or verse presenting in dialogue or pantomime a story involving conflict or contrast of character. (cit.1) In short, a drama is a conflict story.

Syd Field, who has been teaching screenwriting and dramatic structure since the early 1970’s (cit. 2), writes on the elements of drama. His book, Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting, has been employed continuously since it was first published in 1979.(cit.3) Field says that all dramatists must do the following three things: set up their story, invent obstacles for their protagonists to overcome, and resolve their story. An understanding of these three requirements provides guidelines for setting dramatic films to music.

In the first requirement, setting  up a drama, the audience must understand the characters, particularly their dramatic needs. A character’s dramatic need is what he or she wants to obtain or achieve during the course of the story.(cit.4)  For example, The Music Man’sProfessor Harold Hill wants to sell band instruments and uniforms.

Once the drama has been set up, the second required step can begin; the central characters must confront obstacles that prevent them from satisfying their dramatic needs. The main characters’ dramatic needs determine how they act against the obstacles that stand in their way. Character determines action. Harold Hill must hide his ignorance of music in order to sell more instruments and uniforms, so he romances Marian, the only person in town who can expose him, in hopes of securing her silence. Marian stands in the way of Hill’s dramatic need, so he must romance her; he has no choice. If the outgoing, talkative Hill were not impelled by his need to sell instruments, he would probably be indifferent or even hostile to the shy, bookish Marian.

Field’s three needs follow a sequence. A dramatic need is established. Then, conflict ensues when the characters try to satisfy their dramatic needs. Finally, the story must be resolved in some way. Do the characters obtain their wishes? If so, how? For example, Harold winds up selling instruments and uniforms with Marian’s willing assistance. No drama is complete without resolution. Scott Miller says that Act I of Sunday In the Park With George seems to form a complete story, but the story requires Act II because Act I fails to resolve the conflict.(cit. 5) Complete dramas must include both conflict and the resolution of the conflict.

Field’s three needs-- to set up the characters, confront obstacles, and resolve the conflict--form the structure of most Hollywood plot-based screenplays. Major studios prefer plots to concept movies or character studies because plots earn more money.(cit.6) Field’s definition of a screenplay excludes non-plot movies. He writes, “A screenplay is a story told with pictures, in description and dialogue, and within the context of dramatic action.” (cit.7)

More films follow Field’s structural model than any other. He developed the model he teaches when he worked as a reader for David L. Wolper Productions. When a typical production company receives a script, it submits the script to a reader like Field, who recommends which scripts get considered for production. The sheer volume of submitted scripts forced Field to look for a basic structure that almost all films follow so that he could quickly peruse the stacks of screenplays on his desk. He learned to look for a specific structure and rejected the many that didn’t conform to that structure. After looking at two thousand screenplays over two years, he recommended only forty of them.(cit.8) The length of a script was another consideration. Studios want to produce movies less than two hours long for two purely monetary reasons. First, as of 2004, studios spend between ten and twelve thousand dollars to produce each minute of film. Secondly, movie houses prefer shorter films because they lead to more daily showings and more refreshment sales. As a result of these two considerations, contracts between producers and screenwriters commonly stipulate that submitted scripts be shorter than 128 pages, with each page making about a minute of film.(cit.9) Most films conform to Field’s model because of these constraints. Few movie-industry executives value creativity. Flinn called them “a breed of businesspeople with an uncanny knack for knocking the artistic spirit out of any project.”(cit.10) Field’s model calls for three acts he terms Act I—Set Up, Act II—Confrontation, and Act III—Resolution.

In Act I of a film, the story is set up in about thirty minutes of running time.(cit.11 Act I has three purposes. First, it must establish the main characters and their relationships to one another. Second, it must set up the dramatic premise, or tell what the story is about. In The Music Man, the story is about Hill’s attempt to sell instruments and uniforms. Third, it must establish the context, or time and place.(cit.12) The Music Man takes place in small-town Iowa in 1912. Besides these three main purposes, several other Act I features will help understand the process of turning films into musicals. In the first ten minutes or so, a “grabber” of some kind will draw the attention of the audience.(cit.13) An “inciting incident” will set the plot in motion and a “key incident” will define the plot.(cit.14) A “plot point,” which is an episode that changes the course of the plot, will end Act I and begin Act II. This plot point is called Plot Point I.(cit.15)  Usually, Plot Point I will be the key incident, but not always.(cit.16)

In Act II of a film, which lasts about an hour, the protagonist confronts obstacles that stand in the way of satisfying his or her dramatic need.(cit.17) These obstacles get progressively more difficult until, right before the end of Act II, the protagonist will be furthest from victory. This is called the “low point.”(cit.18) Plot Point II, where the action takes a second radical shift, will end Act II and begin Act III.

Act III, which takes about 30 minutes of runtime, resolves the story in some way. How does the plot end? Which characters fulfill their dramatic needs? How? A good Act III will answer every question that arises during the course of the film.(cit.19 For example, if we learn that a cowboy is a good shot, he must use that skill sometime before the end of the film. In addition, the end of the film will hearken back to the beginning in some way. The end is a function of the beginning.(cit.20) The beginning and end might share a bit of dialogue, a scene, or a theme.

Temporarily leaving the three-act structure common to many big-budget films, this paper will next examine the ways musical plays use music, especially songs. The songs in a musical have three main purposes: they advance the plot, they reveal character, and they establish context.

While films tell stories with pictures, book musicals tell stories with music, as illustrated by the most common method their creators-- bookwriters, composers, and lyricists—employ to sell musicals to prospective investors. The creators themselves usually play and sing the musical in the prospective investor’s office in a short performace.(cit.21) Given the informality and brevity of this pitch production, which is limited to less than an hour, music must carry the entire show.

Aaron Frankel, in Writing the Broadway Musical, writes that “Music and lyric are also book.”(cit.22) In a properly constructed plot musical, the songs outline the plot. The songs must be in the correct order. Songs are emphasized over music because lyrics advance plot better than other musical devices. Rock music demonstrates this principle. Rock doesn’t translate well into musicals because the beat in rock commonly obscures the lyrics, and rhythm doesn’t advance the plot or reveal character as effectively as lyrics.(cit.23)

While lyrics advance plot best, plot may be advanced by at least three other means. First, contrast within a song or contrast from one song to another can show a plot point. “Tonight” from West Side Story ends Act I with one intention, Tony and Maria fleeing, and begins Act II with another intention, the rumble between the Sharks and the Jets. Second, the structure of a show song carries plot ramifications. AABA is a common structure for both show and pop songs. In a pop song, the B section serves as a bridge. In a show song, the B section serves as a release. The repeated A’s build up tension, the B releases the tension, and the last A provides a climax. This structure works as a plot and character device because it follows the natural pattern by which people express strong emotions. A person facing a trauma might automatically say, “Oh, no. Oh, no. I don’t believe it. Oh, no.” AABA structure suggests a climax with a move beyond the climax.  Another common structure, ABAC, suggests action that builds in two phases. “You’re The Top” from Anything Goes provides an example of ABAC action.(cit.24)  Plot may also be expressed in the structure of a song by the location the composer chooses to place the title. The title is the song’s focus, and it should appear in the first A or at the end of the song.(cit.25)  If the title appears at the start, the lyric builds on it; if it appears at the end, the lyric builds to it. In either case, the title remains the point of the song.(cit.26) The third musical plot-advancing device is the reprise. It links parts of the plot together and shows how characters change.(cit.27) In The Music Man, the audience knows that Harold and Marian have grown closer when they reprise each others’ songs, “76 Trombones” and “Goodnight, My Someone.”

The reprise also serves the second main purpose of the music in musicals: revealing character. As stated above, reprises reveal character by showing changes in character. In My Fair Lady, Eliza’s first “Just You Wait” is the tantrum of a rebellious child. Her reprise, on the other hand, connotes the power of adulthood. The song and its reprise show two different characters. The first Eliza is established early, which leads to another character consideration--all the main characters must be established early. Oscar Hammerstein II said that the main character must sing an “I Want” (also called an “8:15”) number within the first twenty minutes of the show.(cit.28) Soliloquies, where the character reveals his or her thoughts to the audience, are a second device that can reveal character. However, the soliloquy is a difficult trick to perform in a musical.(cit.29) Revealing inner thoughts directly to the audience, as a soliloquy does, works most effectively in novels; the character/narrator is archaic in films; modern films intend to show a character’s thoughts through his or her actions.(cit.30)

The rhythm of a song can also be employed to reveal character. The rhythms of the previously-mentioned “Goodnight, My Someone,” using 3/4 waltz time, and “76 Trombones,” using 6/8 march time, fit the respective temperaments of Marian and Harold.(cit.31) As a broad rule with numerous exceptions, 2/4 time fits lively characters, 3/4 time flows, and 4/4 time fits slow and easy characters.(cit.32)

The fourth character-revealing device to be discussed, belting, is unique to musical theatre and unique to specific singers within musical theatre. Jolson, Merman, and Joel Grey were three noteworthy belters. Belting is a resounding percussive voice that suggests assertiveness and experience in a character.(cit.33) Another vocal trait which affects characterization is the timbre, or coloration, of the singer’s voice. A different timbre can mean a different character. So, composers and lyricists must consider the real-life singers as well as the fictional characters for whom they write.(cit.34)

Lyrics, aside from being most effective plot device, also reveal character effectively. In My Fair Lady’s  “With A Little Bit of Luck,” Alfred Doolittle grows more unscrupulous with each verse. He begins by showing his desire to avoid work, and ends by being crafty enough to mooch off his own child.(cit.35) The specific lyrical idiom the lyricist chooses also deserves mention. A lyrical idiom is a vocabulary trick in which the words have a different meaning than their literal meaning.(cit.36) Henry Higgins shows his own arrogance when he refers to Eliza as a “pris’ner of the gutters.”

Idiom also serves the third and final main purpose of the music in musicals, which is to show the context, or setting, in which the story takes place. According to the Rodgers and Hammerstein formula, the context must be established in the first ten minutes.(cit.37) Frankel says that context must be established in the opening number.(cit.38) Music can also change context, as illustrated by “Gee, Officer Krupke” in West Side Story, which serves to temporarily lighten the situation.

Besides serving to advance plot, reveal character, and establish context, several other characteristics of the music in musical plays must be considered if one seeks to transform a film into a musical. The first of these other characteristics involves time. While films generally run about two hours, Broadway musicals run about three.(cit.39) It takes longer to make a point with music than it takes with other dramatic devices.(cit.40) Since the song of each scene in a musical tells what the scene is about,(cit.41) scenes without music are generally short scenes that lead in to the musical scenes.(cit.42) Show lyrics in particular have been developed into a more timesaving form than either poetry or prose.(cit.43)

Secondly, the talents of film actors differ from the talents of musical performers, and a song sometimes must be changed, or even inserted, to accommodate a performer. In converting The Producers from film to musical, Mel Brooks and Tom Meehan inserted a scene with an eleven o’clock number (“Betrayed”) in order to induce Nathan Lane to sing the role of Max Bialystock.(cit.44)

Finally, musicals break down the “fourth wall” between stage and audience and operate on a platform stage,(cit.45) and the size of the audience must be considered, while films may ignore the size of the audience. The energy generated by the music must match the size of the audience. For example, Grease, Company, and No Strings were written for large audiences. On the other hand, the intimacy of You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown would seem distorted before a large audience. So the musical play must match its level of energy to the size of its audience.(cit.46)

This paper has examined the elements of drama, the structure of film, and the uses of music in musicals. Before proceeding to the final step, offering suggestions for adapting a film to a musical play, some points about adaptations in general will be discussed. Given the unique experience that constitutes the Broadway musical, adaptations from other media to musical theatre are more difficult to write than original musicals.(cit.47) For example, many writers have attempted to adapt Shakespeare to the musical experience, but only five such adaptations have succeeded—The Boys From Syracuse; Kiss Me, Kate; West Side Story; Your Own Thing; and Two Gentlemen of Verona—and each differed significantly, even in dialogue, from the original Shakespeare. The adaptation must, according to Frankel, become an original and “create a new experience.”(cit.48)

Therefore, when adapting from film to musical, the entire film medium must be abandoned, leaving only the context, characters, and plot; and abandoning even the music used in the film, since film music is background and show music is foreground.(cit.49) If one begins with a film’s structure, considers the dramatic requirements of each element within that structure, subtracts the method by which film satisfies those requirements, then adds the possibilities by which show music can satisfy those requirements, one ends with a musical play. This paper will proceed through that process starting with a hypothetical three-act film and ending with a hypothetical two-act musical. The typical musical contains 12 to 25 songs;(cit.50) the hypothetical will contain eighteen. The following section does not intend to teach the reader how to write songs; rather, it suggests where to insert songs and the relative amount of energy to put into those songs. It tells how much energy to insert, not how to insert that energy. This paper defines energy as the ability to provoke a reaction in an audience. Energy isn’t necessarily loudness or speed. The reaction can be physiological (as in some dance music) or psychological (as in some ballads). By this definition, even silence can have energy and make a dramatic point.(cit.51) Earlier, this paper said that the overall energy of a musical must be determined by the size of the audience. Here, the levels of energy mentioned are compared not to the size of the audience, but to the energy of the songs as compared to other songs in the same show.

The scenes will be discussed in the order in which they appear. Since the opening scene must attract attention, and song attracts more attention than dialogue,(cit.52) it is strongly suggested that the opening scene contain the opening number, except in cases where the opening scene is a short scene leading into the actual opening. However, the opening must do more than attract attention. As previously shown, the opening should also begin establishing the context, begin defining the characters and their interrelationships, and have some connection to the end. “Rock Island” from The Music Man does all this. By the end of the song, the audience knows that the story is set in Iowa near the beginning of the 20th century. The audience also knows something about the character of Harold: he sells instruments, he is a scoundrel, he doesn’t know music (“Rock Island" has no music), and he has an enemy among the salespeople. Also, the conflict between Harold and Charley begins, and that conflict will figure in the final resolution. Because the opening song must accomplish so much, it should generate a moderate-to-high amount of energy.

The next two or three numbers are more subdued than the opening. They should continue to define character and context. Somewhere in this section, the audience should begin to see some plot, which corresponds to the “inciting incident” in film. Because these numbers are primarily foundational, they should generate a low-to-medium amount of energy. By the end of this song series, the audience should fully understand the context and have a good idea of the main characters’ dramatic needs, because that knowledge is essential to the next number.

Around number four or number five a major shift happens. A main character’s dramatic need may change radically or an unexpected main character may emerge. Whatever the shift, this song ends a long way from where it begins. The shift occurs about 30 minutes into what was formerly film and corresponds to Plot Point I. By the end of this scene, the audience should know the exact nature of the conflict. Because this song must launch the plot firmly, it needs a lot of energy.

The song following this big number releases most of the energy as the protagonist, in a subdued-to-resolute manner, begins to confront a series of obstacles that stand in the way of his or her dramatic need. The songs attached to these obstacles, numbers six to about thirteen in the musical play version, become progressively more energetic as the obstacles become progressively more difficult. The creators may schedule intermission somewhere in the latter half of this progression, since the conflict ‘s intensity at that time will help keep the audience focused. The conflict song series ends with a song of moderately high energy, representing the final and most difficult obstacle. At the end of this low-point song, the audience should doubt whether the protagonist will ever achieve his or her goal. In The Music Man, this point happens when Harold’s main antagonists, Mayor Shinn and Charley, join forces.

This song is immediately followed by a single high-energy song, which corresponds to Plot Point II in the film version and song fourteen in the musical version. The protagonist usually overcomes the last big obstacle in this song. A singer may belt a song at this point to assert his or her victory. While the energy of this song equals or exceeds the energy of its predecessor, it should be a different brand of energy. If number thirteen used visceral energy, number fourteen might use emotional energy. The conflict and its resolution are different. Things have changed radically between the two songs and the resolution is about to begin, so the songs themselves should reflect the change with some other contrast besides energy.

Toward the end of the musical play, in songs fifteen to seventeen, the relationships between the main character and all the other characters are resolved, working from the least important relationship to the most important. Song fifteen should generate a moderate amount of energy, and the energy level should increase in sixteen and seventeen, but remain within the moderate range.

The final number represents a celebration in a comedy and a lament in a tragedy. It shows what the story has done to the main character. There should be a link to the beginning, providing a summary—the audience hears from both the original and the new character. This number needs high energy.

The procedure just outlined eliminates the devices by which films, using the mantra “show, don’t tell,” make their point, and replaces them with an entirely new creation whose mantra becomes “sing, don’t tell.” Revealing characters by showing their actions within a plot becomes revealing characters by the music associated with them during the course of a plot. Only the character, context, and plot remain from the original film.