Say what? Of course it’s OK for people to mumble on TV …
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Version 0 of 1. The thing people most often say about new TV dramas seems to have become: “I can’t hear a word.” Following widespread complaints about the impenetrability of the accents in last year’s BBC drama Jamaica Inn – variously attributed to problems with the soundtrack or the cast – the return of Broadchurch to ITV on Monday night prompted a Twitter squall, widely reported elsewhere, about David Tennant being difficult to understand. If grumbling about mumbling has replaced the frequency of repeats as the favourite gripe about British TV, it’s partly because tongue-tied has become the style among some younger actors, a fashion begun by so-called “mumblecore” US indie cinema. In one of the funniest sequences in The Trip to Italy, Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon imagine someone on the set of The Dark Knight Rises daring to tell Tom Hardy that they have no idea what he’s saying. Like Hardy, Sean Harris, perceived as one of the worst offenders in Jamaica Inn, is a known disciple of this tradition. David Tennant, however, absolutely isn’t and so the targeting of him suggests that either the mouths of actors or the ears of viewers are getting worse. As is often the case with public fusses, it’s unclear whether there has been an increase in the phenomenon or merely the reporting of it. While it may or may not have become more difficult to hear the lines from the actors, it is undoubtedly the case that the voice of viewers is now more likely to be picked up. Both the Jamaica Inn and Broadchurch “Say what?” controversies were driven by social media response and picked up by news media. Now immediately available and circulated, this kind of gripe would, until recently, have been made in letters or emails seen only by a few TV company complaints clerks and possibly read out on Points of View. But, whatever the cause, the response has become deafening and, given the tendency of broadcasters to overreact to complaint, megaphone expression could soon become the preferred style of acting, with viewers becoming as familiar with the tonsils of leading TV stars as opera-goers are with those of divas. So we need to speak up against those who think the answer is simply to speak up. While respecting the situation of those with hearing loss who may struggle to catch dialogue on television, for other viewers, crucially, much of this response is subjective, affected by a general ear for accents and the level of attention being paid. As it happens, aged 52 and often colloquially accused by my family on social occasions of “going deaf”, I caught every syllable Tennant said. Nor can the difficulties of some listeners be attributed to his lack of professional training or technique; the actor’s Hamlet and Richard II for the RSC were notable for their immaculate clarity. Admittedly, Tennant tends to use Rada or RP English for Shakespeare, whereas his TV work, including Broadchurch, is closer to his native Scottish tones. Performers who alternate between stage and small-screen work also naturally - and sensibly - underplay their lines for the more intimate, conversational medium. Crucially, DI Hardy in Broadchurch is an exhausted, depressed, seriously ill character who is frequently having conversations that he doesn’t wish to be overheard. Realism demands that he should not fog-horn his dialogue like Brian Blessed playing a town crier. The director and director of photography may also – quite reasonably – sometimes not wish to have the camera pointed fully at an actor’s face, which removes another aid to comprehension. Realistic speech is key in TV drama and I would rather occasionally have to to work to know what someone is saying than regularly be unable to believe what I am seeing. There’s a warning for TV from the history of another branch of acting. Until at least the 1950s, loud, ringing delivery was an absolute ideal for theatre directors and drama-school tutors. The ability to “hit the back” of the upper circle was greatly prized and this ambition was helped by a directorial tendency to place the cast so that they directly faced spectators. The drawback of this approach was that it often resulted in declamatory and over-emphatic acting, which has since been blessedly swept away by a more naturalistic rendition of how people speak, which can encompass mumbling. This move to greater vocal variety and realism was helped by improvements in auditorium acoustics and and the widespread provision of hearing loops for customers who had trouble with the sound, but even so, there are intermittent incidents – including a recent one at the Almeida theatre, involving a male actor known for his whispery delivery – of a yell from the stalls to give it more welly. Television drama does, in many cases, offer help for those struggling to catch the dialogue. Although primarily intended to help those with loss of hearing, subtitles have also become an impromptu response to small-talkers. Anecdotally, it has become common for those with British passports to watch series such as The Wire and True Detective with the English captions selected. And it may on occasion be necessary for some of those watching shows that feature more familiar accents – or people with perfect hearing – to make use of the white lines at the bottom of the picture. There will always be a conflict between impeccable diction and credible fiction. Television acting is a broad church and, within its walls, David Tennant is a saint not a sinner. |