breakinglight11 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
breakinglight11) wrote2019-02-10 09:46 am
breakinglight11) wrote2019-02-10 09:46 am
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"Don't Panic" - my 24-hour play festival script for Giving@First 2/19
Here is the script I submitted for this weekend's twenty-four hour charity play festival hosted by Theatre@First! It went really well; I actually think it was overall the strongest program Giving@First has done yet, scripts, acting, and directing.
For previous festivals I wrote about monsters, with "Love Is Dead" about a necromancer trying to online date, and "The Creature From the Backlot Lagoon" about a real-life movie monster. I even joked to my cast when we were paired up, "Knowing me, I will write about either monsters or Victorians."
What I ended up doing wasn't exactly Victorian... but God knows I already am drowning in the costuming, so that's the aesthetic we went with. I pulled an old scene fragment I did in 31 Plays in 31 Days 2016, cut the opening scenario out of it, and improved and expanded it into a ten-or-so-minute sketch. I've been describing it to people as "basically if Noel Coward did Weekend at Bernie's."
I've had an idea for a while for a full length comedy of manners version of that premise called, appropriately enough, "The Body." For me the humor comes primarily not necessarily from the characters trying to conceal the corpse, but from the meta-level of having a full-length play where an actor playing a dead body is onstage THE WHOLE TIME. I love the idea of the audience being like, "Oh, my God. He's just... dead there. He's just going to be dead there and flop around for the entire time." And him laying onstage inert until curtain call, upon which time he rises to take the final bow. So it was fun to do a small test of the idea in this setting.
I had a great cast too! I've worked with Sara before in the Hawking shows and she's always great. Kat was new to me, but demonstrated that she was very talented. I've seen Jason Merrill and Andrew Harrington work before, so I was excited to get to work with them. I was a little sheepish to cast Jason as the corpse, but his physical humor was SO GREAT and was a huge source of comedy for the show. And Maggie French, the director, was thoughtful and amazing; I'm really lucky we got paired up. She brought in the great idea that the con artists were the ones ultimately being conned.
So I'm pleased with how it went! As always, it's very wordy like my first drafts tend to be, and some of the lines are tricky to say because of the weird diction I was going for. But the cast managed to pull it off. The script is behind the cut, if you're curious.
Don’t Panic
by Phoebe Roberts
directed by Maggie French
CLEO, a con artist – Kat Buckingham
DAISY, another con artist – Sara Dion
CHARLES, their partner, deceased – Jason Merrill
HOLLINGSWORTH, the butler – Andrew Harrington
~~~
(CLEO and DAISY stand over the body of CHARLES, slumped in a heap on the carpet.)
CLEO: Great Scott. One thing is certain.
DAISY: Hm?
CLEO: Charles is definitely, definitely dead.
DAISY: Mm.
(Pause.)
CLEO: Don’t panic.
DAISY: Understood.
CLEO: I am quite serious.
DAISY: I know.
CLEO: It is imperative that we do not panic.
DAISY: Mm. So… we’re not panicking. What are we doing?
CLEO: Hadn’t got that far, I’m afraid.
(DAISY kneels, removes CHARLES’s top hat, and flinches when she sees his face. She puts it back.)
DAISY: This is quite the shock. How do you think it happened?
CLEO: God only knows. It’s Charles. It could have been anything.
DAISY: True. Charles did struggle with… anything. But what are we going to do? We can’t pull off the con without him.
CLEO: I’m aware of that.
DAISY: It’s not like I can marry the old lady. I mean, the daughter’s the pretty one…
CLEO: Obviously, Daisy! Why else do you think we put up with his nonsense!? Ugh, help me, get him off the floor. If somebody sees him before the will is changed, we’re finished.
(They hoist up the body a little. Enter HOLLINGSWORTH. They let CHARLES flop back down.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Good afternoon, ladies and gentle— rug. Did you skin a particularly churlish bear, or did Mr. Charles have a difficult morning?
CLEO: Oh, Hollingsworth! It’s you. I could have sworn I heard you’d quit. Or did I just have a beautiful brain aneurysm?
HOLLINGSWORTH: If only we both had been so lucky. But as a matter of fact, I will not be in my position here for much longer. Thanks to Ms. Adelaide.
CLEO: Always liked that old gal! And don’t you worry, Charles here just… had a bit too much to drink.
HOLLINGSWORTH: It’s… two in the afternoon.
DAISY: He’s a little behind schedule today.
CLEO: Hollingsworth, would you be a dear and tell Ms. Adelaide that Charles will be just a bit late to to the will signing?
HOLLINGSWORTH: I suppose just one last time. Seeing as it’s my last week here.
CLEO: Of course. And there’s no need to tell Ms. Adelaide about this! He does so hate to cause her trouble.
HOLLINGSWORTH: I admire his resolve to never let that stop him.
(HOLLINGSWORTH exits.)
DAISY: Ms. Adelaide was supposed to change her will in his favor today! She can’t find him like this!
CLEO: We mustn’t panic, Daisy, dear! I know what we need to do.
DAISY: What’s that?
CLEO: Get used to lifting with your legs.
(They get him upright and sit him on a block.)
DAISY: Do you really think that will work?
CLEO: Just until after the old lady signs! I mean, it’s not like they’ve never been to tea with him before— the expectations are low!
(He leans to one side. They catch him and push him back up. He lists again. Again they push him back up. He leans to the opposite side and they catch and hold him.)
CLEO: There, you see! Put a Panama hat on him, and you’d think he was back at the derby day party.
DAISY: But his face looks absolutely dreadful.
CLEO: Goodness, I know. And on top of that, he’s dead.
DAISY: I mean, with a face like that, someone is bound to notice! Isn’t there some way we can… fix all that?
(She waves her hands around his face. CLEO digs in her handbag.)
CLEO: If I knew how, I’d have done it years ago! But— here, take my compact, put the roses back in his cheeks.
(DAISY takes out a lipstick and starts drawing on CHARLES’s face. HOLLINGSWORTH reenters.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: An interesting color choice; I’d always thought Mr. Charles was a spring.
DAISY: Just… making him presentable!
(She puts his hat back on him.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Mr. Charles may rest easy to know the dress code for the meeting is casual.
DAISY: I’ll have you know he is very sensitive about his crow’s feet! I suppose you’ve never had a blemish, Mr. Hollingsworth?
HOLLINGSWORTH: I myself prefer a light concealer. But no matter. I was told to pass along that Ms. Adelaide is arriving shortly.
CLEO: In that case, Charles here could certainly use some freshening up. Hollingsworth, could you be a dear and run a bath?
HOLLINGSWORTH: After going to such trouble with his makeup?
DAISY: It’ll wake him up a bit!
HOLLINGSWORTH: I’m not sure it’s within my responsibilities to wait on Mr. Charles. But I suppose I can extend myself. Seeing as it’s my last week.
(HOLLINGSWORTH exits.)
CLEO: Make it a cold bath. Very cold! Just fill it with ice! (Whispers to DAISY) If nothing else pans out, at least we can keep the organs fresh!
DAISY: I wouldn’t count on getting a decent liver.
CLEO: We’re just lucky there’s no market for brains!
DAISY: Anyway, how are we going to get him out of the bath?
CLEO: I told you, Daisy, don’t panic! It will give an excuse for why he’s so cold. All right now, you take one side, I’ll take the other.
(They each put one of CHARLES’s arms over their shoulders and try to push his legs forward with their legs.)
CLEO: Come on now, step, step, step—
DAISY: Actually it’s more of a shuffle—
(HOLLINGSWORTH enters.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Your bath is ready. Shall I fetch you a wheelbarrow?
CLEO: We’re only trying to make certain Charles is present for Ms. Adelaide!
HOLLINGSWORTH: May I ask why it’s so important that he be in attendance?
CLEO: Because of the will, you fool! Ms. Adelaide is changing her will in Charles favor! She’s been planning it for months!
HOLLINGSWORTH: Oh, I see what the trouble is. You hadn’t heard.
DAISY: Heard what?
HOLLINGSWORTH: Ms. Adelaide had broken her engagement to Mr. Charles. A more suitable gentleman has been found to take his place.
CLEO: A more suitable gentleman!? Who?
HOLLINGSWORTH: Why, me. I told you it was my last week as butler. Ms. Adelaide decided. So if you were counting on Mr. Charles here, I’m afraid your hopes are quite dead.
(He takes Charles’s top hat and places it on his own head and exits. CLEO and DAISY put CHARLES back on the ground.)
DAISY: There goes the whole con, Cleo!
CLEO: I said don’t panic.
DAISY: But what are we going to do now?
CLEO: Let’s get him in that bathtub. We’ll make some money off him yet, if he’s not actually as gutless as he seemed!
For previous festivals I wrote about monsters, with "Love Is Dead" about a necromancer trying to online date, and "The Creature From the Backlot Lagoon" about a real-life movie monster. I even joked to my cast when we were paired up, "Knowing me, I will write about either monsters or Victorians."
What I ended up doing wasn't exactly Victorian... but God knows I already am drowning in the costuming, so that's the aesthetic we went with. I pulled an old scene fragment I did in 31 Plays in 31 Days 2016, cut the opening scenario out of it, and improved and expanded it into a ten-or-so-minute sketch. I've been describing it to people as "basically if Noel Coward did Weekend at Bernie's."
I've had an idea for a while for a full length comedy of manners version of that premise called, appropriately enough, "The Body." For me the humor comes primarily not necessarily from the characters trying to conceal the corpse, but from the meta-level of having a full-length play where an actor playing a dead body is onstage THE WHOLE TIME. I love the idea of the audience being like, "Oh, my God. He's just... dead there. He's just going to be dead there and flop around for the entire time." And him laying onstage inert until curtain call, upon which time he rises to take the final bow. So it was fun to do a small test of the idea in this setting.
I had a great cast too! I've worked with Sara before in the Hawking shows and she's always great. Kat was new to me, but demonstrated that she was very talented. I've seen Jason Merrill and Andrew Harrington work before, so I was excited to get to work with them. I was a little sheepish to cast Jason as the corpse, but his physical humor was SO GREAT and was a huge source of comedy for the show. And Maggie French, the director, was thoughtful and amazing; I'm really lucky we got paired up. She brought in the great idea that the con artists were the ones ultimately being conned.
So I'm pleased with how it went! As always, it's very wordy like my first drafts tend to be, and some of the lines are tricky to say because of the weird diction I was going for. But the cast managed to pull it off. The script is behind the cut, if you're curious.
Don’t Panic
by Phoebe Roberts
directed by Maggie French
CLEO, a con artist – Kat Buckingham
DAISY, another con artist – Sara Dion
CHARLES, their partner, deceased – Jason Merrill
HOLLINGSWORTH, the butler – Andrew Harrington
~~~
(CLEO and DAISY stand over the body of CHARLES, slumped in a heap on the carpet.)
CLEO: Great Scott. One thing is certain.
DAISY: Hm?
CLEO: Charles is definitely, definitely dead.
DAISY: Mm.
(Pause.)
CLEO: Don’t panic.
DAISY: Understood.
CLEO: I am quite serious.
DAISY: I know.
CLEO: It is imperative that we do not panic.
DAISY: Mm. So… we’re not panicking. What are we doing?
CLEO: Hadn’t got that far, I’m afraid.
(DAISY kneels, removes CHARLES’s top hat, and flinches when she sees his face. She puts it back.)
DAISY: This is quite the shock. How do you think it happened?
CLEO: God only knows. It’s Charles. It could have been anything.
DAISY: True. Charles did struggle with… anything. But what are we going to do? We can’t pull off the con without him.
CLEO: I’m aware of that.
DAISY: It’s not like I can marry the old lady. I mean, the daughter’s the pretty one…
CLEO: Obviously, Daisy! Why else do you think we put up with his nonsense!? Ugh, help me, get him off the floor. If somebody sees him before the will is changed, we’re finished.
(They hoist up the body a little. Enter HOLLINGSWORTH. They let CHARLES flop back down.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Good afternoon, ladies and gentle— rug. Did you skin a particularly churlish bear, or did Mr. Charles have a difficult morning?
CLEO: Oh, Hollingsworth! It’s you. I could have sworn I heard you’d quit. Or did I just have a beautiful brain aneurysm?
HOLLINGSWORTH: If only we both had been so lucky. But as a matter of fact, I will not be in my position here for much longer. Thanks to Ms. Adelaide.
CLEO: Always liked that old gal! And don’t you worry, Charles here just… had a bit too much to drink.
HOLLINGSWORTH: It’s… two in the afternoon.
DAISY: He’s a little behind schedule today.
CLEO: Hollingsworth, would you be a dear and tell Ms. Adelaide that Charles will be just a bit late to to the will signing?
HOLLINGSWORTH: I suppose just one last time. Seeing as it’s my last week here.
CLEO: Of course. And there’s no need to tell Ms. Adelaide about this! He does so hate to cause her trouble.
HOLLINGSWORTH: I admire his resolve to never let that stop him.
(HOLLINGSWORTH exits.)
DAISY: Ms. Adelaide was supposed to change her will in his favor today! She can’t find him like this!
CLEO: We mustn’t panic, Daisy, dear! I know what we need to do.
DAISY: What’s that?
CLEO: Get used to lifting with your legs.
(They get him upright and sit him on a block.)
DAISY: Do you really think that will work?
CLEO: Just until after the old lady signs! I mean, it’s not like they’ve never been to tea with him before— the expectations are low!
(He leans to one side. They catch him and push him back up. He lists again. Again they push him back up. He leans to the opposite side and they catch and hold him.)
CLEO: There, you see! Put a Panama hat on him, and you’d think he was back at the derby day party.
DAISY: But his face looks absolutely dreadful.
CLEO: Goodness, I know. And on top of that, he’s dead.
DAISY: I mean, with a face like that, someone is bound to notice! Isn’t there some way we can… fix all that?
(She waves her hands around his face. CLEO digs in her handbag.)
CLEO: If I knew how, I’d have done it years ago! But— here, take my compact, put the roses back in his cheeks.
(DAISY takes out a lipstick and starts drawing on CHARLES’s face. HOLLINGSWORTH reenters.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: An interesting color choice; I’d always thought Mr. Charles was a spring.
DAISY: Just… making him presentable!
(She puts his hat back on him.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Mr. Charles may rest easy to know the dress code for the meeting is casual.
DAISY: I’ll have you know he is very sensitive about his crow’s feet! I suppose you’ve never had a blemish, Mr. Hollingsworth?
HOLLINGSWORTH: I myself prefer a light concealer. But no matter. I was told to pass along that Ms. Adelaide is arriving shortly.
CLEO: In that case, Charles here could certainly use some freshening up. Hollingsworth, could you be a dear and run a bath?
HOLLINGSWORTH: After going to such trouble with his makeup?
DAISY: It’ll wake him up a bit!
HOLLINGSWORTH: I’m not sure it’s within my responsibilities to wait on Mr. Charles. But I suppose I can extend myself. Seeing as it’s my last week.
(HOLLINGSWORTH exits.)
CLEO: Make it a cold bath. Very cold! Just fill it with ice! (Whispers to DAISY) If nothing else pans out, at least we can keep the organs fresh!
DAISY: I wouldn’t count on getting a decent liver.
CLEO: We’re just lucky there’s no market for brains!
DAISY: Anyway, how are we going to get him out of the bath?
CLEO: I told you, Daisy, don’t panic! It will give an excuse for why he’s so cold. All right now, you take one side, I’ll take the other.
(They each put one of CHARLES’s arms over their shoulders and try to push his legs forward with their legs.)
CLEO: Come on now, step, step, step—
DAISY: Actually it’s more of a shuffle—
(HOLLINGSWORTH enters.)
HOLLINGSWORTH: Your bath is ready. Shall I fetch you a wheelbarrow?
CLEO: We’re only trying to make certain Charles is present for Ms. Adelaide!
HOLLINGSWORTH: May I ask why it’s so important that he be in attendance?
CLEO: Because of the will, you fool! Ms. Adelaide is changing her will in Charles favor! She’s been planning it for months!
HOLLINGSWORTH: Oh, I see what the trouble is. You hadn’t heard.
DAISY: Heard what?
HOLLINGSWORTH: Ms. Adelaide had broken her engagement to Mr. Charles. A more suitable gentleman has been found to take his place.
CLEO: A more suitable gentleman!? Who?
HOLLINGSWORTH: Why, me. I told you it was my last week as butler. Ms. Adelaide decided. So if you were counting on Mr. Charles here, I’m afraid your hopes are quite dead.
(He takes Charles’s top hat and places it on his own head and exits. CLEO and DAISY put CHARLES back on the ground.)
DAISY: There goes the whole con, Cleo!
CLEO: I said don’t panic.
DAISY: But what are we going to do now?
CLEO: Let’s get him in that bathtub. We’ll make some money off him yet, if he’s not actually as gutless as he seemed!