From play-script to screenplay installation as king a bear is baited.The bear is first seen in its cage in the court- yard during preparations for the feast,and Lady Macbeth hails it as'our chiefest guest'.Later,before we (via the camera's eye)enter the banqueting hall,the carcass of the bear and one of its assailants are dragged past the camera down a corridor,leaving a vivid bloody smear on the floor.Towards the end of the film, as he receives reports of the enemy's advance,Macbeth notices the pillar to which the bear had been tied,and much later,as he faces his first assailant,he sees the same pillar,ring and chain.This time he speaks the line They have tied me to the stake.'Frank Kermode,declaring that 'the film mustn't spoil [Shakespeare's] astonishing effects of language complained that these were lost in Polanski's film:one might observe that the visual effects created by the director were a transposition of imagery into another medium.Against this one might set one of the most fulsome defences of a Shakespeare film against such objections: Robert Cowie's assertion that in Welles's Othello,Far from being attenuated, the play reveals under [his]direction that restless,brooding aspect that lies hidden in the folds of Shakespeare's verse.30 Another point of coincidence or collision between the spoken word and the shown image in Shakespearean film is the soliloquy.The theatrical convention, allowing access to a character's'private'thoughts,depends on that character's ability to address the audience directly.With the tragic heroes in particular this conventional means of access to their interiority has been essential to a critical tradition celebrating the plays as studies in psychology.The speeches are per- ceived both as technical tests,and as a measure of the performer's emotional (even spiritual)range and capability in the role. Film has other means of access to the characters'interiority,to which speech may even be a hindrance,and has little(or at least,very selective)use for direct address to the audience.Welles deprives lago of his soliloquies,but this does not seem to diminish the impact of Macliammoir's performance,and Kurosawa's Washizu (Toshiro Mifune)is no less effective for being a Macbeth whose thoughts are given no words.When a character in a film does speak directly to camera,the effect is a radical disruption of the sense of fictional space-the inti- mation of a whole world beyond the camera's range,of which we are being shown a part-and is potentially far more momentous(and alienating)than direct address to a live audience from an actor on stage.Usually,when a film character must be seen to reflect,she or he will look to the left or right of camera, the eye-line depending on the demands of continuity and with respect to what is understood to be in the space'off'.Speaking to the lens has a distinctive effect and has to be used sparingly and strategically. This important element of the plays'theatrical conventions may,however,be modified to advantage,in that soliloquy can be elided with the 'aside'.In Polanski's Macbeth both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth move in and out of 25
installation as king a bear is baited. The bear is first seen in its cage in the courtyard during preparations for the feast, and Lady Macbeth hails it as ‘our chiefest guest’. Later, before we (via the camera’s eye) enter the banqueting hall, the carcass of the bear and one of its assailants are dragged past the camera down a corridor, leaving a vivid bloody smear on the floor. Towards the end of the film, as he receives reports of the enemy’s advance, Macbeth notices the pillar to which the bear had been tied, and much later, as he faces his first assailant, he sees the same pillar, ring and chain. This time he speaks the line ‘They have tied me to the stake.’ Frank Kermode, declaring that ‘the film mustn’t spoil [Shakespeare’s] astonishing effects of language’29 complained that these were lost in Polanski’s film: one might observe that the visual effects created by the director were a transposition of imagery into another medium. Against this one might set one of the most fulsome defences of a Shakespeare film against such objections: Robert Cowie’s assertion that in Welles’s Othello, ‘Far from being attenuated, the play reveals under [his] direction that restless, brooding aspect that lies hidden in the folds of Shakespeare’s verse.’30 Another point of coincidence or collision between the spoken word and the shown image in Shakespearean film is the soliloquy. The theatrical convention, allowing access to a character’s ‘private’ thoughts, depends on that character’s ability to address the audience directly. With the tragic heroes in particular this conventional means of access to their interiority has been essential to a critical tradition celebrating the plays as studies in psychology. The speeches are perceived both as technical tests, and as a measure of the performer’s emotional (even spiritual) range and capability in the role. Film has other means of access to the characters’ interiority, to which speech may even be a hindrance, and has little (or at least, very selective) use for direct address to the audience. Welles deprives Iago of his soliloquies, but this does not seem to diminish the impact of Macliammóir’s performance, and Kurosawa’s Washizu (Toshiro Mifune) is no less effective for being a Macbeth whose thoughts are given no words. When a character in a film does speak directly to camera, the effect is a radical disruption of the sense of fictional space – the intimation of a whole world beyond the camera’s range, of which we are being shown a part – and is potentially far more momentous (and alienating) than direct address to a live audience from an actor on stage. Usually, when a film character must be seen to reflect, she or he will look to the left or right of camera, the eye-line depending on the demands of continuity and with respect to what is understood to be in the space ‘off’. Speaking to the lens has a distinctive effect and has to be used sparingly and strategically. This important element of the plays’ theatrical conventions may, however, be modified to advantage, in that soliloquy can be elided with the ‘aside’. In Polanski’s Macbeth both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth move in and out of From play-script to screenplay 25
RUSSELL JACKSON spoken'and 'thought'soliloquy,usually speaking only one phrase or sentence out loud.Their thoughts can now be juxtaposed with other action,and the char- acters do not have to be alone-to be given,as it were,a stage to themselves-for the thinking to take place.Lady Macbeth(Francesca Annis)reads her husband's letter in voice-over,but speaks some phrases out loud.We see preparations for Duncan's arrival as her voice is heard (Hie thee hither,that I may pour my spirits in thy ear')and her invocation to the 'spirits,that tend on mortal thoughts'is spoken as she watches Duncan's arrival.She 'thinks'her invitation to night as she comes down into the courtyard,preserving the outward demureness that dis- tinguishes her in this part of the film.A speech that on stage could hardly be spoken without a passionate display of commitment to evil,is here juxtaposed with Lady Macbeth's outward composure.The film's capacity for placing the protagonists'passages of reflection in,or at least beside,the world around them has been diversely articulated in the different Hamlet films.Hamlet's first,bitter soliloquy,is a case in point.Olivier(1948)isolates Hamlet on his chair in the now empty,shadowy council chamber,a setting expressionistically appropriate for his state of mind.Kozintsev(1964)has Hamlet'thinking'as he makes his way through a throng of fawning courtiers,a grave and isolated intellectual amid a politically dangerous chattering class.Branagh(1996)splits the difference by having Hamlet pace,bursting with angry vocal energy,through the vast,bril- liantly lit but now deserted hall. This adaptation of the soliloquy convention permits the protagonists to go about other business while we hear them think,and often(though not inevita- bly)suggests a corresponding psychological trait:Macbeth or Hamlet can seem like men who frequently think but don't have to stop to do so.Because the camera can keep close to him,Olivier is able to allow Henry V a moment of thoughtful- ness'aside'on the line 'And how Thou pleasest,God,direct the day'after he has defied the French herald before the battle of Agincourt.Polanski's camera is always catching Jon Finch's Macbeth in moments of reflection,even when we cannot hear his thoughts,and he is no less a man of action for all his troubled imagination.In any case,Polanski gives us privileged access to the visions that trouble Macbeth's imagination.Towards the end of the film,as the usurper's regime disintegrates,we see Lady Macbeth's hands from her point of view, stained with illusory stigmata.In a play where visions are of paramount impor- tance,Polanski's camera insists on a degree of complicity in the viewer that would not be available to the theatre spectator. Additional narrative:pictures telling stories Scenes not represented in action in Shakespeare's theatre but added by screen- writers have sometimes been thought an undesirable challenge to the supremacy 26
‘spoken’ and ‘thought’ soliloquy, usually speaking only one phrase or sentence out loud. Their thoughts can now be juxtaposed with other action, and the characters do not have to be alone – to be given, as it were, a stage to themselves – for the thinking to take place. Lady Macbeth (Francesca Annis) reads her husband’s letter in voice-over, but speaks some phrases out loud. We see preparations for Duncan’s arrival as her voice is heard (‘Hie thee hither, that I may pour my spirits in thy ear’) and her invocation to the ‘spirits, that tend on mortal thoughts’ is spoken as she watches Duncan’s arrival. She ‘thinks’ her invitation to night as she comes down into the courtyard, preserving the outward demureness that distinguishes her in this part of the film. A speech that on stage could hardly be spoken without a passionate display of commitment to evil, is here juxtaposed with Lady Macbeth’s outward composure. The film’s capacity for placing the protagonists’ passages of reflection in, or at least beside, the world around them has been diversely articulated in the different Hamlet films. Hamlet’s first, bitter soliloquy, is a case in point. Olivier (1948) isolates Hamlet on his chair in the now empty, shadowy council chamber, a setting expressionistically appropriate for his state of mind. Kozintsev (1964) has Hamlet ‘thinking’ as he makes his way through a throng of fawning courtiers, a grave and isolated intellectual amid a politically dangerous chattering class. Branagh (1996) splits the difference by having Hamlet pace, bursting with angry vocal energy, through the vast, brilliantly lit but now deserted hall. This adaptation of the soliloquy convention permits the protagonists to go about other business while we hear them think, and often (though not inevitably) suggests a corresponding psychological trait: Macbeth or Hamlet can seem like men who frequently think but don’t have to stop to do so. Because the camera can keep close to him, Olivier is able to allow Henry V a moment of thoughtfulness ‘aside’ on the line ‘And how Thou pleasest, God, direct the day’ after he has defied the French herald before the battle of Agincourt. Polanski’s camera is always catching Jon Finch’s Macbeth in moments of reflection, even when we cannot hear his thoughts, and he is no less a man of action for all his troubled imagination. In any case, Polanski gives us privileged access to the visions that trouble Macbeth’s imagination. Towards the end of the film, as the usurper’s regime disintegrates, we see Lady Macbeth’s hands from her point of view, stained with illusory stigmata. In a play where visions are of paramount importance, Polanski’s camera insists on a degree of complicity in the viewer that would not be available to the theatre spectator. Additional narrative: pictures telling stories Scenes not represented in action in Shakespeare’s theatre but added by screenwriters have sometimes been thought an undesirable challenge to the supremacy russell jackson 26
From play-script to screenplay of poetic description.This is clearly the case when an incident described in the dialogue is enacted for the camera.Outstanding examples occur in Olivier's Hamlet,when we see the scene of Hamlet's distraught visit to Ophelia's closet; in both films of Henry V,which show us the death of Falstaff to illustrate Mistress Quickly's words;in Branagh's Henry V,when flashbacks clarify the former relationship of Henry with Falstaff and his tavern companions;and on several occasions in Branagh's Hamlet.A notable'double dose'of illustration occurs when Olivier accompanies Gertrude's description of Ophelia's drowning with a scene imitating Millais's painting of the same subject.In these cases the director has had to decide between the desire to take his audience with him,and the fear of distracting from what is being said(and how it is expressed)rather than illuminating some necessary question of the play.Examples of divergent approaches to the problem can be found within Branagh's Hamlet:we are not shown Hamlet's visit to Ophelia's closet,and the image of her drowned face is shown after,not during,the scene in which Gertrude describes her death.On the other hand,there are many other 'illustrations',ranging in seriousness from Hamlet and Ophelia in bed together to images of Priam and Hecuba in extremis to accompany references in the player's speech.31 More problematic are images which illustrate(and perhaps validate)what a character imagines-such as those in Oliver Parker's Othello where the hero visualises Desdemona in bed with Cassio.The effect is anticipated (more decorously)in the German silent film of 1922,but there Othello cannot speak of his imaginings,and they have to be shown. Additional sequences are more certain of being welcome when they advance or amplify the narrative rather than duplicate or expand on information already expressed verbally.There is a clear correspondence here with the Elizabethan stage conventions of prologues,choruses and other framing devices.Olivier's Henry V is remarkable for its use of a 'play within a film'structure to facilitate the shifting of the historical events into an aestheticised past,a process which effects a negotiation between the conflicting 'realist'and 'escapist'modes of wartime cinema.Once the Elizabethan playhouse and the London it is set in have been established,the film proceeds for some time by framing the lines from the original play in a'historical'performance mode,rather than by adding new lines and sequences.In Olivier's epic the ideological dimension of this 'prologue'is strong,but is not explicit.(In what was at the time a powerful contrast to the drab,war-damaged London of 1944,Shakespeare's city is shown as idyllic,and its theatre as ideally democratic,colourful and lively,which seems to confer a particular validity and relevance on the dramatic fare presented there.)32 Branagh,by contrast,focusses on the medium itself by opening backstage'in a film studio(in the first drafts of his script this was to be a theatre)before moving to a scene of conspiracy between the two clerics:cinema,he implies,can make 27
of poetic description. This is clearly the case when an incident described in the dialogue is enacted for the camera. Outstanding examples occur in Olivier’s Hamlet, when we see the scene of Hamlet’s distraught visit to Ophelia’s closet; in both films of Henry V, which show us the death of Falstaff to illustrate Mistress Quickly’s words; in Branagh’s Henry V, when flashbacks clarify the former relationship of Henry with Falstaff and his tavern companions; and on several occasions in Branagh’s Hamlet. A notable ‘double dose’ of illustration occurs when Olivier accompanies Gertrude’s description of Ophelia’s drowning with a scene imitating Millais’s painting of the same subject. In these cases the director has had to decide between the desire to take his audience with him, and the fear of distracting from what is being said (and how it is expressed) rather than illuminating some necessary question of the play. Examples of divergent approaches to the problem can be found within Branagh’s Hamlet: we are not shown Hamlet’s visit to Ophelia’s closet, and the image of her drowned face is shown after, not during, the scene in which Gertrude describes her death. On the other hand, there are many other ‘illustrations’, ranging in seriousness from Hamlet and Ophelia in bed together to images of Priam and Hecuba in extremis to accompany references in the player’s speech.31 More problematic are images which illustrate (and perhaps validate) what a character imagines – such as those in Oliver Parker’s Othello where the hero visualises Desdemona in bed with Cassio. The effect is anticipated (more decorously) in the German silent film of 1922, but there Othello cannot speak of his imaginings, and they have to be shown. Additional sequences are more certain of being welcome when they advance or amplify the narrative rather than duplicate or expand on information already expressed verbally. There is a clear correspondence here with the Elizabethan stage conventions of prologues, choruses and other framing devices. Olivier’s Henry V is remarkable for its use of a ‘play within a film’ structure to facilitate the shifting of the historical events into an aestheticised past, a process which effects a negotiation between the conflicting ‘realist’ and ‘escapist’ modes of wartime cinema. Once the Elizabethan playhouse and the London it is set in have been established, the film proceeds for some time by framing the lines from the original play in a ‘historical’ performance mode, rather than by adding new lines and sequences. In Olivier’s epic the ideological dimension of this ‘prologue’ is strong, but is not explicit. (In what was at the time a powerful contrast to the drab, war-damaged London of 1944, Shakespeare’s city is shown as idyllic, and its theatre as ideally democratic, colourful and lively, which seems to confer a particular validity and relevance on the dramatic fare presented there.)32 Branagh, by contrast, focusses on the medium itself by opening ‘backstage’ in a film studio (in the first drafts of his script this was to be a theatre) before moving to a scene of conspiracy between the two clerics: cinema, he implies, can make From play-script to screenplay 27
RUSSELL JACKSON us privy to the secret workings of the state.In other films framing devices direct the audience more explicitly to a point of view from which the ensuing events should be contemplated:Olivier's Hamlet,Kurosawa's Macbeth version and Welles's Othello accomplish this with,respectively,a sequence foreshadowing the final scene and including a legend read by a voice-over(Olivier himself);a chanted chorus as a pillar bearing an inscription is first revealed,then enfolded in mists which clear to reveal the'spider's web castle'of the film's Japanese title; and an elaborate episode anticipating the conclusion of the film by showing the funerals of Othello and Desdemona,with lago hanged in his cage. Films of the history plays might be thought to require even more by way of preparation,not so much in terms of attitude,but rather of information required for comprehension of what is to follow.Thus,Olivier's Richard Ill begins with a rolling title,emblazoned on an illuminated parchment,which indicates that what is to follow is one of the legends attached to the crown-establishing the latter as a recurrent symbol-and then moves into a rearranged and augmented version of the play's opening scene,designed to clarify the allegiances and back- ground of the principal characters.Olivier is following a venerable stage tradi- tion,but it is notable that Welles,having worked for some years on his stage version of the Falstaff material,frames his Chimes at Midnight with passages from Holinshed (spoken in voice-over by Ralph Richardson)and at one stage intended to open further back in the story,with sequences depicting the death of Richard II and Bolingbroke's reception of the corpse.33 Although Branagh decided (at a late stage)to include the Falstaff flashbacks in his Henry V,on the grounds that they were essential to an audience's understanding of the film,he decided against a prologue because it would not have been directly useful to the narrative.Included in the original script,this was to have shown a young man (subsequently identified as the king)gazing mournfully out to sea while a voice- over recited lines from Richard Il:For God's sake let us sit upon the ground/ And tell sad stories of the death of kings...'Branagh felt that it indicated an attitude rather than helping to tell the story Scene-and mood-setting devices in the same director's Much Ado about Nothing form a bridge between the mes- senger's announcement that 'Don Pedro is approached'and the arrival of the prince and his retinue in the villa courtyard:the main titles are superimposed on scenes of frenzied preparations,frankly sexual anticipation and broad comedy. This is effectively a delayed prologue,sanctioned by the filmic custom of pre-title sequences designed to engage attention and launch the story.(The first section, with the words of Sigh no more'shown on screen and declaimed by Beatrice perhaps counts as a pre-prologue,so that by the time Don Pedro's entourage approaches we are into what is effectively a third opening sequence.) Less clearly capable of integration with the rest of the script,but answering a 28
us privy to the secret workings of the state. In other films framing devices direct the audience more explicitly to a point of view from which the ensuing events should be contemplated: Olivier’s Hamlet, Kurosawa’s Macbeth version and Welles’s Othello accomplish this with, respectively, a sequence foreshadowing the final scene and including a legend read by a voice-over (Olivier himself); a chanted chorus as a pillar bearing an inscription is first revealed, then enfolded in mists which clear to reveal the ‘spider’s web castle’ of the film’s Japanese title; and an elaborate episode anticipating the conclusion of the film by showing the funerals of Othello and Desdemona, with Iago hanged in his cage. Films of the history plays might be thought to require even more by way of preparation, not so much in terms of attitude, but rather of information required for comprehension of what is to follow. Thus, Olivier’s Richard III begins with a rolling title, emblazoned on an illuminated parchment, which indicates that what is to follow is one of the legends attached to the crown – establishing the latter as a recurrent symbol – and then moves into a rearranged and augmented version of the play’s opening scene, designed to clarify the allegiances and background of the principal characters. Olivier is following a venerable stage tradition, but it is notable that Welles, having worked for some years on his stage version of the Falstaff material, frames his Chimes at Midnight with passages from Holinshed (spoken in voice-over by Ralph Richardson) and at one stage intended to open further back in the story, with sequences depicting the death of Richard II and Bolingbroke’s reception of the corpse.33 Although Branagh decided (at a late stage) to include the Falstaff flashbacks in his Henry V, on the grounds that they were essential to an audience’s understanding of the film, he decided against a prologue because it would not have been directly useful to the narrative. Included in the original script, this was to have shown a young man (subsequently identified as the king) gazing mournfully out to sea while a voiceover recited lines from Richard II: ‘For God’s sake let us sit upon the ground / And tell sad stories of the death of kings . . .’ Branagh felt that it indicated an attitude rather than helping to tell the story.34 Scene- and mood-setting devices in the same director’s Much Ado about Nothing form a bridge between the messenger’s announcement that ‘Don Pedro is approached’ and the arrival of the prince and his retinue in the villa courtyard: the main titles are superimposed on scenes of frenzied preparations, frankly sexual anticipation and broad comedy. This is effectively a delayed prologue, sanctioned by the filmic custom of pre-title sequences designed to engage attention and launch the story. (The first section, with the words of ‘Sigh no more’ shown on screen and declaimed by Beatrice perhaps counts as a pre-prologue, so that by the time Don Pedro’s entourage approaches we are into what is effectively a third opening sequence.) Less clearly capable of integration with the rest of the script, but answering a russell jackson 28
From play-script to screenplay perceived need for exposition and stage-setting,was the preliminary sequence drafted(but not filmed)for Reinhardt's A Midsummer Night's Dream,which would have shown the war between the Amazons and the Athenians,and Theseus's hand-to-hand combat with his future bride.35 Nunn's Twelfth Night, like some theatrical productions of the play,begins with a spectacularly staged storm,but it goes beyond a mere transposition of the two opening scenes,to include evidence of the resemblance between Viola and her brother and also to strike the first note of the recurring theme of sexual confusion.Here,as with Branagh's Much Ado,exposition is already moving beyond narrative into inter- pretation.In Derek Jarman's Tempest(1979)a storm at sea(footage shown in a blue filter)is represented as being'dreamt'by Prospero and Miranda before the dialogue tells us it is also 'real',a device which shows the director's responsive- ness to the medium he is adapting from and his imaginative readiness to use film's capability to go beyond it. In Kozintsev's Hamlet the opening title sequence shows a torch against a stone wall as a bell tolls,with Shostakovitch's plangent score cutting in as the camera pans left to reveal the sea.This establishes elemental metaphorical material (water,earth,fire)for what is to come.It is followed by a rapid sequence of shots showing the protagonist galloping across landscape on his way to Elsinore, rushing into the courtyard,up a flight of steps and along a corridor to meet Gertrude.This momentum is then arrested by the raising of a castle drawbridge and the slow obliteration of the daylight reflected in the well beneath:Denmark's a prison indeed.One might contrast this in terms of technique(allowing for the self-evident distinction of mood)with the mysterious but clearly momentous movement of the mass of poor people through a bleak landscape that opens the same director's King Lear.This has no direct participation in the narrative devel- opment of the film:as well as establishing milieu it functions as a prologue,and directs us to consider what follows in a particular light. These examples are of films adding to the play in order to indicate a point of view,provide background information,establish mood and scene or announce a theme.It is also common for 'showing'to replace rather than supplement 'telling'in doing the narrative work of the play.This is especially noticeable when an important event that occurs off-stage in the play is either a vital plot point(in Branagh's Much Ado we are shown Margaret's impersonation of Hero)or because a large-scale event can hardly be expected to take place 'off-screen'or be represented by a few alarums and excursions(the battles in Olivier's Henry V and in Chimes at Midnight are the most remarkable examples).Not infrequently, however,scenes and sequences of the original may be cut because the rhythm of the stage play does not accord with the pace thought desirable in a film:for this reason(it appears)Mankiewicz shot but omitted the murder of Cinna the poet 29
perceived need for exposition and stage-setting, was the preliminary sequence drafted (but not filmed) for Reinhardt’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which would have shown the war between the Amazons and the Athenians, and Theseus’s hand-to-hand combat with his future bride.35 Nunn’s Twelfth Night, like some theatrical productions of the play, begins with a spectacularly staged storm, but it goes beyond a mere transposition of the two opening scenes, to include evidence of the resemblance between Viola and her brother and also to strike the first note of the recurring theme of sexual confusion. Here, as with Branagh’s Much Ado, exposition is already moving beyond narrative into interpretation. In Derek Jarman’s Tempest (1979) a storm at sea (footage shown in a blue filter) is represented as being ‘dreamt’ by Prospero and Miranda before the dialogue tells us it is also ‘real’, a device which shows the director’s responsiveness to the medium he is adapting from and his imaginative readiness to use film’s capability to go beyond it. In Kozintsev’s Hamlet the opening title sequence shows a torch against a stone wall as a bell tolls, with Shostakovitch’s plangent score cutting in as the camera pans left to reveal the sea. This establishes elemental metaphorical material (water, earth, fire) for what is to come. It is followed by a rapid sequence of shots showing the protagonist galloping across landscape on his way to Elsinore, rushing into the courtyard, up a flight of steps and along a corridor to meet Gertrude. This momentum is then arrested by the raising of a castle drawbridge and the slow obliteration of the daylight reflected in the well beneath: Denmark’s a prison indeed. One might contrast this in terms of technique (allowing for the self-evident distinction of mood) with the mysterious but clearly momentous movement of the mass of poor people through a bleak landscape that opens the same director’s King Lear. This has no direct participation in the narrative development of the film: as well as establishing milieu it functions as a prologue, and directs us to consider what follows in a particular light. These examples are of films adding to the play in order to indicate a point of view, provide background information, establish mood and scene or announce a theme. It is also common for ‘showing’ to replace rather than supplement ‘telling’ in doing the narrative work of the play. This is especially noticeable when an important event that occurs off-stage in the play is either a vital plot point (in Branagh’s Much Ado we are shown Margaret’s impersonation of Hero) or because a large-scale event can hardly be expected to take place ‘off-screen’ or be represented by a few alarums and excursions (the battles in Olivier’s Henry V and in Chimes at Midnight are the most remarkable examples). Not infrequently, however, scenes and sequences of the original may be cut because the rhythm of the stage play does not accord with the pace thought desirable in a film: for this reason (it appears) Mankiewicz shot but omitted the murder of Cinna the poet From play-script to screenplay 29