Tuesday, April 1, 2008

even more playwritey stuff...

The goal was to write a scene that would be considered "unstageable" for what ever reason. The teacher would not go into more detail beyond, "Just write something that could not be staged."

Here's what I came up with:

UNSTAGEABLE CONVERSATION SCENE
By ERIC JAMES FOX

A man sits behind a large mahogany desk on a deeply lined and well worn leather chair. He is smartly dressed in a charcoal gray business suit. On the desk before him is a sleek, black phone with many buttons.
The man, the desk, the chair and the phone are all sitting on a very high cliff, overlooking a crowd of what appears to be millions of people.

MAN- Look at them all down there. All of their heads are too small. They all blend together. I wish I could see them on a high definition plasma screen. Then I could see each of their heads separately. However, I would probably then have to acknowledge them all as individuals and that doesn't seem to be in my best interest. Better they all just remain a big, faceless blob of bodies and little, tiny heads.

(Phone rings with an old fashioned metal bell ringing sound)

MAN- (stares at the phone while it rings and rings) Linda! Linda! Can you answer the phone please? What the hell do I pay you for? LINDA!

(Man stands up to look behind him and moves the chair out of his way. Once his chair has been moved, we can see that the cliff he is on does not expand out to a full landscape behind him. His cliff goes to the horizon without widening at all.)

MAN- Uh... Linda must have the day off. (phone stops ringing) Ah, but see! I handled that quite well on my own. Who needs old stinky Linda anyway? Not me! I'm all over this! (phone begins ringing again, much louder this time. With each ring, a different sound element is added. It starts as just a loud ring, but the second ring is a loud ring mixed with the sound of a jackhammer. The third is ringing, jackhammer and traffic. The fourth is ringing, jackhammer, traffic and a jet taking off. The fifth includes the shrieking of a hawk. The sixth, the screech-cry of a baby in pain. Man looks terrified. By the seventh ring, he is clearly screaming in fear, but we can't hear him over the now constant cacophony of the ringing phone. His sits in the chair and answers the phone in a perfectly measured and authoritative voice.) Hello? (pause) Yes, this is he. May I ask who is calling? (pause) I see. You know, your connection is very bad. Are you on a “cell phone” of some kind? I can barely hear you. I suggest, next time you attempt to call someone as busy as myself, you ensure you are on a land line with no interference. (pause) Hello? (pause) No. Now I can't hear you at all. I'm hanging up. Good bye.
(Man calmly hangs up the phone then picks it up and throws it off the cliff behind him.)

MAN- (Glances over the cliff to where the millions of people are. He opens a drawer on the desk and pulls out an apparatus. It is a large gray box with a palm-sized black knob in the middle. Two electrodes are connected to the box by red wires. The electrodes end in rounded disks. The man takes out a squeeze bottle of thick, blue fluid and coats the disks with it. He reaches into the inside pocket of his sports coat and pulls out a red mouth guard. He places it into his mouth and bites down, then turns the knob on the box quickly to the right. We hear a low humming and the lights in the theater drop slightly. The man sits back in the chair, puts one electrode in each hand and begins to move them towards his temples. Before he reaches him temples we hear a sound and he stops... )

SOUND OF THE CROWD- (The millions of people are trying to speak to him with one voice. We make out many separate voices that only occasionally overlap in a way that allows us to pick out words.) ..........NOT...............CHANCE............HOME...........

MAN- (Drops the electrodes, spits out the mouth guard and walks to the edge of the cliff. He sits on the edge and dangles his feet looking down at the crowd. He screams and cries.)Leave me alone! I told you I wrong and there isn't enough time! I don't need you! You didn't listen to me when I wanted you and now I DON'T WANT YOU ANYMORE! I am AFRAID! I am a COWARD! But that's what I am and I am okay with it!

SOUND OF THE CROWD- (The crowd begins to coalesce into the shape of a face. It is as though we were looking at a picture of a face on a monitor and small groups of people have replaced the pixels. The psychic effort to do this is tremendous and even from our distance, we can clearly see some people's heads exploding. The face speaks with one voice powered by millions of people. The effect is beautiful and horrifying.)WE... CAN'T... DO... THIS FOR LONG.

MAN- Whoa. You guys are really coordinated. I have to give you that. You can stop now, though.

SOUND OF THE CROWD- WE NEED YOU TO KNOW. IT'S NOT TOO LATE. THERE IS ALWAYS A CHANCE TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT. YOU CAN STILL COME HOME.

MAN- I... I don't want to come home. Please. Just let me be.

SOUND OF THE CROWD- IT'S NOT TOO LATE.

MAN- No. I'm not listening.

SOUND OF THE CROWD- THERE IS ALWAYS A CHANCE TO MAKE THINGS RIGHT. (The effort is clearly showing on the crowd now. The edges of the face are fraying as people collapse and die.)

MAN- Leave me alone!

SOUND OF THE CROWD- YOU CAN STILL COME HOME...

MAN- NO!!

(The man throws himself off the cliff. The crowd changes shape quickly and forms a column up to reach the man. People at the bottom of the column are immediately crushed, but replaced just as quickly by others. The man continues to fall...)




It was received much better than I think was warranted.

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