31 Plays in 31 Days, #29 - “Three-Time”
Aug. 29th, 2021 02:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breakinglight11The semester is starting next week, so I am busily getting ready. I’m feeling a little bit burnt out, but I need to push through to finish the challenge. I don’t know if my remaining scenes are going to be any good, but I’ll do my best. Here’s another attempt at conversation from the bottle episode of Dream Machine after a bad night at the Emmys with Leah and Ryan.
Day #29 - “Three-Time”
From Dream Machine
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
LEAH LUCCHESI, showrunner of Offcomer at Dream Machine, mid thirties
RYAN DRESDEN, head of programming for Dream Machine, early fifties
Los Angeles, 2021
~~~
LEAH: I really wanted that damn Emmy. Is that stupid?
RYAN: Probably.
LEAH: Gee, thanks.
RYAN: No, seriously. Do you really care what they think of you?
LEAH: I care what everybody thinks of everything about me, all the time.
RYAN: I know it’s very hard that the Academy doesn’t want to have sex with you.
LEAH: This is about the other thing I base my self-worth on— my work! Come on, do you have any identity beyond what you make and who you make?
RYAN: Of course not. But the who matters.
LEAH: Jesus. You’re telling me.
RYAN: I meant, who gives out establishment awards? A bunch of old racists who just want to reward stuff that reminds them out of themselves.
LEAH: Easy for a three-time Oscar winner to say.
RYAN: Yeah, like that made me so happy? Rowan’s Hope was a four-quadrant schlockfest scientifically calculated to appeal to the lowest common denominator. I know— I operated the calculator.
LEAH: And what about The Devil and the Deep? I know that was your baby.
RYAN: Yeah. Yeah, it was.
LEAH: Didn’t it feel great to have the best thing you ever made recognized?
RYAN: Oh, yeah. So great that after my win, I split a speedball with some Veuve Clicquot model in the bathroom and woke up in the back seat of my Charger with the coat check girl.
LEAH: Now you just sound like a rock star.
RYAN: You’re a lot more impressed than my wife was.
LEAH: Shit.
RYAN: Yeah. Especially considering she went home an actual rock star afterward. Really didn’t measure up. And my last one, for Milk and Honey Road, well… when I realized that grinding dull midcentury divorce drama was what spoke to the Academy best— suffice it to say that after party ended with a police chase, a three-car pileup, and the most unflattering of my four mugshots. The pinnacle of my professional career— and I don’t even remember most of it.
LEAH: So… what? You’d rather you didn’t win them?
(Pause.)
RYAN: No. That’s the only thing worse than winning them.
Day #29 - “Three-Time”
From Dream Machine
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
LEAH LUCCHESI, showrunner of Offcomer at Dream Machine, mid thirties
RYAN DRESDEN, head of programming for Dream Machine, early fifties
Los Angeles, 2021
~~~
LEAH: I really wanted that damn Emmy. Is that stupid?
RYAN: Probably.
LEAH: Gee, thanks.
RYAN: No, seriously. Do you really care what they think of you?
LEAH: I care what everybody thinks of everything about me, all the time.
RYAN: I know it’s very hard that the Academy doesn’t want to have sex with you.
LEAH: This is about the other thing I base my self-worth on— my work! Come on, do you have any identity beyond what you make and who you make?
RYAN: Of course not. But the who matters.
LEAH: Jesus. You’re telling me.
RYAN: I meant, who gives out establishment awards? A bunch of old racists who just want to reward stuff that reminds them out of themselves.
LEAH: Easy for a three-time Oscar winner to say.
RYAN: Yeah, like that made me so happy? Rowan’s Hope was a four-quadrant schlockfest scientifically calculated to appeal to the lowest common denominator. I know— I operated the calculator.
LEAH: And what about The Devil and the Deep? I know that was your baby.
RYAN: Yeah. Yeah, it was.
LEAH: Didn’t it feel great to have the best thing you ever made recognized?
RYAN: Oh, yeah. So great that after my win, I split a speedball with some Veuve Clicquot model in the bathroom and woke up in the back seat of my Charger with the coat check girl.
LEAH: Now you just sound like a rock star.
RYAN: You’re a lot more impressed than my wife was.
LEAH: Shit.
RYAN: Yeah. Especially considering she went home an actual rock star afterward. Really didn’t measure up. And my last one, for Milk and Honey Road, well… when I realized that grinding dull midcentury divorce drama was what spoke to the Academy best— suffice it to say that after party ended with a police chase, a three-car pileup, and the most unflattering of my four mugshots. The pinnacle of my professional career— and I don’t even remember most of it.
LEAH: So… what? You’d rather you didn’t win them?
(Pause.)
RYAN: No. That’s the only thing worse than winning them.
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