Musicals are weird. Two acts, not three like movies . . . not like plays used to be. Musicals wind themselves up so tightly in their first hour or so that you have to take a 15-minute break then come back to let things unwind.
Which is why we have Act I finales. I wrote just a while back about “I Want” songs. These typically come early in the show (second or third song, sometimes the first, see comments on Annie below), and they clarify what your show is about by telling the audience what your main character or characters want. It’s the doorway to the action that follows.
And action must follow. (No one wants to see the musical Today, I Did Nothing.) Character is developed (and revealed) through action, dialogue, song, music, dance. And it should build tension. Something is at stake. (No one wants to see the musical Today, Nothing Was At Risk.) And if we do our job well as musical theater creators, the audience gets invested.
There is a rhythm to this and the weaving of action and character (aka: tension) should build to its high point at the end of the first act. (Hopefully, there is sufficient tension to warrant a full second act. That will be the subject of a future blog.)
And, of course, in a musical, that crescendo of emotional tension is usually reflected in a song. We call that the Act I finale.
So, what makes a good Act I finale? Hoo boy. Tough question. As soon as you figure out the rule someone breaks it and creates a new rule. But I love exploring the development of the American musical, and when I want to understand how something fits, or should fit, or might fit, I always start with the game changers: Oklahoma and Company.
Oklahoma, for all its 70 years (and counting) of success, is on the surface a simple story of two boys who want to take the same girl to a dance. Her playing them off one another builds tension, which culminates at the end of Act I, where she’s been too clever for her own good and gets stuck going with the guy she doesn’t really like (and he’s a little creepy).
The Act I finale is Out of My Dreams and the Dream Ballet sequence of legend. Song. Dance. Character. Action. Psyche. It’s external. It’s internal. It summarizes and culminates the action of the first act. You must admit, it’s powerful. Big and powerful.
And then there’s Company. In the original 1970 production the first act ended with Amy’s breathless Getting Married Today, which always brings down the house. But there was a problem. Company is not about Amy getting married or not getting married. Company is about Bobby getting married or not getting married (or being willing to commit to someone, knowing the risks). Stephen Sondheim knew this, and in the 1995 Broadway revival (and since) made the Act I finale Marry Me a Little, sung by . . . Bobby. It is the culmination of the action of the first act. Not action as in Oklahoma with it’s farmer v. rancher and “will you take me to the box social” plot. But action as in exploration of modern relationships through a series of scenes with a variety of couples. Still, tension builds. It must. (No one wants to see the musical Today, No One Came Over.) And by the end of Act I Bobby discovers he’s maybe not so singular as he thought, that he needs relationship . . . he’d just like one without the risks, and he sings about it. Not the soaring Out of My Dreams with big dance number but an equally soaring ballad that leaves the audience checking their watches at intermission to get back in and figure out what he’s going to do. And that’s what you want a finale to do, culminate the tension you’ve built and catapult it into the second act.
Consider Annie (not least because I saw it last night). Annie opens with the lead character’s I Want song: Maybe. She wants parents. Her developing relationship with Daddy Warbucks dominates the act and culminates at the end of Act I with Daddy Warbucks almost popping the question to become her adopted father but being thwarted at the last minute. (Tension!) And at the finale, he and Annie sing reprises of Why Should I Change a Thing and Maybe. A soft beautiful moment which repurposes music from earlier in the show. And culminates the tension. And sets up Act 11.
Of course, at the opposite end of the spectrum is The Producers. The Act I finale is called . . . Act I Finale. It is a boisterous and hilarious recap of everything that has happened thus far. It’s fitting for a show which is lighter than, and funnier than (or at least way more over the top) than ones we’ve discussed thus far. But it still fits in structure that emerges.
And what is that? Big or small. Loud or low. Song or dance. (Or song and dance.) An Act I finale should be a natural culmination of the tension you’ve built. It does not simply restate the tension, it heightens it. It does not resolve the tension, it throws into the second act. (Can you say, Defying Gravity from Wicked? The culmination so far of the central relationship to Act I between Glinda and Elphaba, heightens tension, sets up Act II.)
The key is the tension you build in Act I through character and action should naturally reach a boiling point where an Act I finale is required. If it doesn’t, go back over your act. Is there enough “there” there? Do you have sufficient tension? Do you have sufficient action? Are your characters growing sufficiently and in ways that bump them up against each other? Is there enough looming threat to justify a full second act?
Bottom line: A good Act I finale really means you've got a good Act I. And that's where to start.
Which is why we have Act I finales. I wrote just a while back about “I Want” songs. These typically come early in the show (second or third song, sometimes the first, see comments on Annie below), and they clarify what your show is about by telling the audience what your main character or characters want. It’s the doorway to the action that follows.
And action must follow. (No one wants to see the musical Today, I Did Nothing.) Character is developed (and revealed) through action, dialogue, song, music, dance. And it should build tension. Something is at stake. (No one wants to see the musical Today, Nothing Was At Risk.) And if we do our job well as musical theater creators, the audience gets invested.
There is a rhythm to this and the weaving of action and character (aka: tension) should build to its high point at the end of the first act. (Hopefully, there is sufficient tension to warrant a full second act. That will be the subject of a future blog.)
And, of course, in a musical, that crescendo of emotional tension is usually reflected in a song. We call that the Act I finale.
So, what makes a good Act I finale? Hoo boy. Tough question. As soon as you figure out the rule someone breaks it and creates a new rule. But I love exploring the development of the American musical, and when I want to understand how something fits, or should fit, or might fit, I always start with the game changers: Oklahoma and Company.
Oklahoma, for all its 70 years (and counting) of success, is on the surface a simple story of two boys who want to take the same girl to a dance. Her playing them off one another builds tension, which culminates at the end of Act I, where she’s been too clever for her own good and gets stuck going with the guy she doesn’t really like (and he’s a little creepy).
The Act I finale is Out of My Dreams and the Dream Ballet sequence of legend. Song. Dance. Character. Action. Psyche. It’s external. It’s internal. It summarizes and culminates the action of the first act. You must admit, it’s powerful. Big and powerful.
And then there’s Company. In the original 1970 production the first act ended with Amy’s breathless Getting Married Today, which always brings down the house. But there was a problem. Company is not about Amy getting married or not getting married. Company is about Bobby getting married or not getting married (or being willing to commit to someone, knowing the risks). Stephen Sondheim knew this, and in the 1995 Broadway revival (and since) made the Act I finale Marry Me a Little, sung by . . . Bobby. It is the culmination of the action of the first act. Not action as in Oklahoma with it’s farmer v. rancher and “will you take me to the box social” plot. But action as in exploration of modern relationships through a series of scenes with a variety of couples. Still, tension builds. It must. (No one wants to see the musical Today, No One Came Over.) And by the end of Act I Bobby discovers he’s maybe not so singular as he thought, that he needs relationship . . . he’d just like one without the risks, and he sings about it. Not the soaring Out of My Dreams with big dance number but an equally soaring ballad that leaves the audience checking their watches at intermission to get back in and figure out what he’s going to do. And that’s what you want a finale to do, culminate the tension you’ve built and catapult it into the second act.
Consider Annie (not least because I saw it last night). Annie opens with the lead character’s I Want song: Maybe. She wants parents. Her developing relationship with Daddy Warbucks dominates the act and culminates at the end of Act I with Daddy Warbucks almost popping the question to become her adopted father but being thwarted at the last minute. (Tension!) And at the finale, he and Annie sing reprises of Why Should I Change a Thing and Maybe. A soft beautiful moment which repurposes music from earlier in the show. And culminates the tension. And sets up Act 11.
Of course, at the opposite end of the spectrum is The Producers. The Act I finale is called . . . Act I Finale. It is a boisterous and hilarious recap of everything that has happened thus far. It’s fitting for a show which is lighter than, and funnier than (or at least way more over the top) than ones we’ve discussed thus far. But it still fits in structure that emerges.
And what is that? Big or small. Loud or low. Song or dance. (Or song and dance.) An Act I finale should be a natural culmination of the tension you’ve built. It does not simply restate the tension, it heightens it. It does not resolve the tension, it throws into the second act. (Can you say, Defying Gravity from Wicked? The culmination so far of the central relationship to Act I between Glinda and Elphaba, heightens tension, sets up Act II.)
The key is the tension you build in Act I through character and action should naturally reach a boiling point where an Act I finale is required. If it doesn’t, go back over your act. Is there enough “there” there? Do you have sufficient tension? Do you have sufficient action? Are your characters growing sufficiently and in ways that bump them up against each other? Is there enough looming threat to justify a full second act?
Bottom line: A good Act I finale really means you've got a good Act I. And that's where to start.
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