EXPOSITION
I’ve been thinking about exposition in audio drama lately and thought I’d take a moment to sum up some of the conclusions I’ve reached regarding how to deliver it.
ON THE NOSE EXPOSITION
Exposition is incredibly easy to get wrong – something I have proved in my own writing more than I’d like to admit. Most “on-the-nose” dialog tends to occur in sections of exposition. Nothing offends the sensibilities of the audience more than dialog like the following…
BOB – As you know, Sarah, we’ve been married for nearly twenty years and are still as much in love as we were on the day we took our vows.
SARAH – Yes, Bob. And even though we have our problems and argue from time to time, we always patch up our differences in the end.
Two characters telling each other what they already know is an ugly and ham-fisted way to communicate exposition to the audience. The audience automatically realizes the characters are not talking to each other (but to them) and recoils at how artificial and false it sounds. When approaching exposition, the writer needs to ask “is it natural?”, “is it minimal?”, and “is it necessary?”. It should be drip-fed to an audience and there should never be a lot of it at once (a cardinal sin). It has to feel like a natural part of the conversation, and it must contribute something essential to the story (such that without it, something important would be missing). As soon as the minimum necessary information has been imparted, it needs to disappear. Exposition also needs to be appropriately motivated. Generally speaking (with an exception discussed below) exposition should never involve characters telling each other what they already know.
WORD PICTURES AS EXPOSITION
One way to deliver exposition is to have characters build word pictures with the dialog. In this example, I have tried to embed exposition into the dialog to create a picture of a particular place (an advertising agency)…
GEORGE – (TO MICHAEL) You should come and visit the Monkey House some time. When the other alphas aren’t flinging crap at each other, we actually do some good work.
MICHAEL – (UNIMPRESSED) Sounds charming.
GEORGE – It’s not so bad – even fun – up to a point. You don’t get a 21st floor outlook on Madison Avenue by playing nice, so it’s competitive as hell. But, so long as you don’t trust any of ’em, you can make a decent hand from the advertising game… and have a pretty good time doing it.
At the least, it’s better than…
GEORGE – As you know, I work for a Madison Avenue Advertising Firm that is scary, competitive, but fun.
In the dialog above, George wants to impress Michael. Michael’s lack of enthusiasm prompts him to try harder and reveal more and so, as well as revealing the setting, it tells us something about the characters and their relationship.
Wherever possible dialog should strive to accomplish more than one thing (advance the plot and reveal character, reveal character and establish setting, establish setting and advance the plot, etc.).
Exposition in dialog can be used to expose more than mere location data, however.
SANDY – I thought I told you not to come back here.
BOYD – C’mon Missus. I just want to buy a pie.
SANDY – Hmpf. I know you can read. ” No shirt. No shoes. No service.”
BOYD – I ‘aven’t got a shirt. Leastways, not one that buttons up. But I got some cash.
SANDY – Rob anyone for it?
BOYD – No, Missus. You know I’d never.
SANDY – (EXASPERATED) What the hell happened to you, Boyd? You were a good kid once. Tearing around the neighbourhood with the others. None of them are sleeping rough.
BOYD – ‘s no work Missus.
SANDY – (SIGHS) Alright, Boyd. But come around to the back door. The smell’s gonna drive my regular customer’s away. And I’ll be keeping the change. You don’t get to track your filth into my shop and not pay for it.
Boyd’s intention is to buy a pie from Sandy. As part of their exchange we learn that Boyd is living on the street, unemployed, doesn’t have a shirt that buttons up, and badly needs a shower. We also learn that Sandy sees homelessness as a moral failing but has no problem stealing the change from a homeless person. The real interest for the audience lies in the questions that are raised. Is Boyd as polite and obsequious as he seems or is he playing the role that is expected of the down-trodden? Is Sandy, truly, a compassionless cow? How do they know each other? In the process of having our curiosity prompted, we learn a few things about how Boyd looks, smells, and lives from day to day, as well as how Sandy sees the world. Wherever possible, revelations should prompt questions to keep the audience engaged.
EXPOSITION AS CONFLICT
Another way to deliver exposition is to turn it into ammunition in a conflict. Generally speaking, you never want to have characters telling each other what they already know (the dreaded “as you know…” opening above), but in a conflict, people often bring up the past, weaponize it, and throw it in the face of their opponent.
JIM – You’re a pig! You knew I was almost ready to buy that shop. Another week and I’d have had the deposit.
BILL – Yeah, well. If you’d really wanted it, you’d have got the loan sooner. And you’d know better than to blab your intentions down at the pub.
JIM – How many drinks did you buy me that night?
BILL – Hey, you were the one who drank ’em!
JIM – You’re a thief!
BILL – I’m a business man. You’d have done the same.
JIM – You really believe that, don’t you? That’s the difference between you and me. You’d sell your own mother for an extra quid or two.
BILL – No-one needs your “community center”. At least I’ll be creating some jobs.
JIM – You’re opening an adult goods store in the middle of the village square. Cheap pornography, two streets from the local comprehensive school.
BILL – Don’t act all outraged with me. People need what I sell. And if I wasn’t selling it, someone else would.
JIM – What the hell happened to you, Jim? You were always a hustler, but you never ripped off your mates. Two years in London and you’re almost unrecognizable. Is this how you’re going to treat everyone from the old days?
In this dialog, the two characters throw facts at each other as part of their conflict and we learn a lot about them and the setting in the process.
EXPOSITION AS REVELATION
Another way dialog can be used to provide exposition is through the exposure of secrets. People keep secrets and watching those secrets get forced into the open is both dramatic and fascinating. It’s a particularly good way to reveal backstory. How does this happen? Usually, it is through the character finding themselves in a situation where the revelation of the secret is the lesser of two evils.
JANE – I don’t understand. Are you being blackmailed?
ERNEST – No. It’s not that.
JANE – Then, I don’t know, an affair? Are you keeping a mistress?
ERNEST – No. I’ve never cheated on you.
JANE – Then what is it? The secret account… These payments… You’ve been making them for years. Who is this woman?
ERNEST – Damn it Jane, why’d you have to be so nosy? I kept it from you because I didn’t want you hurt. Truth is, I have a daughter. From before we met. I’ve been paying for her education. She doesn’t know.
JANE – But… all these years. And you never told me?
Here, Ernest feels it’s better to admit to what is really happening than let Jane form her own conclusions.
EXPOSITION THROUGH NARRATION
Lastly, exposition in audio drama can be direct (in the form of narration). Elsewhere I’ve written in defense of short, unobtrusive narration. The narrator can be a character in their own right (Doctor Watson), a voice-over that provides internal monologue (Sam Spade), a breaker of the fourth wall who turns and addresses the audience (Ferris Bueler), or a non-character that provides short connecting exposition (“meanwhile, back at the ranch…”). The downside of narration is that it always disrupts the immersion of the listener in an audio drama, but its advantage lies in its ability to communicate exposition quickly and then get out of the way so that the drama can continue. A brief disruption to our sense of immersion (the briefer the better) can be forgiven if it lets us communicate scene, setting, and background details in a way that saves or avoids pages of clumsy dialog.
NARRATOR – Jenny sits on her bed fingering the edge of her knife and trying to come up with a reason NOT to seek her revenge…
This kind of narration sets up place character and intention, all in a single sentence. It might be more satisfying to introduce these facts through dramatization, but if the real story (the story the writer intends to be told) is what follows this moment, then these brief words are easily forgiven. For most listeners, a brief moment of narration (if short and infrequent) is the equivalent of a mild misstep that doesn’t break your stride. It is jarring but quickly forgotten as the drama takes over (and the important details are retained).
Are there any other techniques for exposition that you are aware of and would like to share? I’d be keen to hear them.
Copyright Philip Craig Robotham © 2021 .
