Category Archives: Play

Directing 'West Side Story"s George Chakiris

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Of course, everyone discovered George Chakiris in “West Side Story” in which he received the academy award for Best Supporting Actor. Rita Moreno says of George, “There are only two elegant dancers I can think of, Fred Astair and George.” I had not thought of him to play the part of a Puerto Rican loan shark in for my audio-book “Rock Star Rising”. I just didn’t make the connection when I first thought about Russ Tamblyn to play the lead in it. This was probably because it was too much of a stretch to dream that big, that it never entered my head.

But by chance the two of them appeared at a photo signing convention and then idea clicked. And if I could pull it off, not only would he be perfect for the part, I’d be making movie history, of a sort, by putting these two actors together for the first time since they both got stabbed and killed below that highway, so many years ago. A sort of resurrection for Riff and Bernardo. Too much to dream? Probably. Russ got the script to George and, after a weeks wait, he told my agent he would do it.

Out of the blue, I got a call from George saying that he would like to make some changes to the script and wondered how I felt about it. I told him that the overall story was of more concern to me than each individual word, so it would be fine. And of course, I wanted each actor to make the part his own, thusly putting more of them into my project then just showing up and performing what was on the page. George asked where could we meet. Using what I had learned from my “James Bond Lifestyle” techniques I asked him if there were a big five star hotel near where he lived, as they would always have a comfortable lounge where we could talk with beverages available. He said the Four Seasons hotel in Beverly Hills, and we set the time and date.

I got there early and checked the place out. The lounge looked like a scene from a badly designed movie about Hollywood. A set too much “in character” to be believed. It was beautiful with three connecting lounges with a bar in the middle one. Seated at tables were men with laptops and talking over the cell phones about about making script changes. I picked an a comfortable sofa with a chair and table next to it for George to sit in when he arrived, ordered avian water from the bar tender and opened my script on the table. George arrived right on time and I stood. I told him people had recently said, I looked like Michael Caine, so he recognized me right away. He looked just like Bernardo and still definitely in shape as he trains at a gym daily and still does dance exercises.

I warmed him up talking about the fact the we were both Greek decedents. His parents coming from Greece, both sets of my grandparents coming from Greece. We talked about some of his movies like “Diamond Head”. He said he is still friends with James Darren from that movie. I didn’t know then that James Darren would end up in the project, and not through George. Then we went to work on the script. Basically his changes were more of the editing nature. Condensing longer speeches into more concise dialogue between him and Russ’ character, for whom he had most of his scenes with, besides the character of his sister.

At one point, George started to act out his dialogue and from the corner of my eye I notice people turning and looking at him and then me. Normally, being basically a shy person, this would have bothered me, but being it was academy award winning George Chakiris that I was working with, I didn’t bother me at all. In fact, surrounded all by all those “in” Hollywood types, I felt like that I was “in” with them. But I only thought about that for a second and then put my mind back on the script. Two hours later, and after some more movie talk, both George and I were satisfied with his dialogue. At the recording studio, Russ and George sat facing each other, and did all there twenty or so scenes together. We would record each scene one by one talking a break between them to analyze and prepare for the next one.

We first ran the scene where Russ’ Puerto Rican girlfriend introduces him to her brother, so it was a three mike set up and we got it in one take, with the actress sounding like Rozie Perez. Then she took a break and Russ and George continued with scenes they had to do alone. Once in a while they would stop and have to go over what they had agreed to do, and the changes that George had made only with me. I had typed up and copied the changes, which I had ready for both of them if need, but they preferred to work off their own scripts. It was great to hear the two of them set up what they would say before the start of each scene.

After two hours, their scenes together were done. Next George had to do his remaining scenes with the actress playing the part of his sister. It was great to hear the two of them, in character, argue about what was happening in the story. When George had finished all his scenes, I had Russ back in the booth continuing on with his scenes. I was happy to see that, even though finished, George sat in the back on a sofa with his “sister” and talked and enjoyed the atmosphere. It turned out they were both cat lovers and George told her that he would design a special piece of jewelry for her. I love it when the cast gets along.

Finally during a break, George said his farewells. I shook my hand and said, “It was a pleasure working with you.” I replied, “I’ll always remember The Four Seasons. It was very productive.” After he left Russ turned to me and said, “You know Paul, these days, George hardly does anything, but after meeting you, he decided to do this.” I replied, “I’m really happy about that.” I turned out that he had not been 100% sure about doing the project until after our first meeting. Now as I write this with a photo of Riff and Bernardo knife fighting on my PC table in front of me, both signed by Russ and George.

I still can’t believe that I have their performances on tape. The great thing that comes to mind is that when they finally hear the project on CD, they will really be surprised at the sound design, the music, and how the overall story plays. And most of all, they didn’t (nor did I) know of all the other name actors that would join this project based on the fact that the two of them had already recorded their parts. Rod Taylor was to follow, then Robert Culp recording with James Darren and Kevin McCarthy. I can’t wait to thank them for their believe in the project, when I send them their copies of the CD. And can’t wait for their reactions!

Directing Frank Sinatra Jr. Narrating My Novel

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In 2007, I hired Frank Sinatra Jr. to do the narration of my novel McKnight’s Memory into audio-book form. It’s a full cast production with famous actors of the ’60s performing the characters. Mr. Sinatra came in last to do the narration. It was a dream working with him.

I had heard his audio commentary on two of his father’s movies on DVD, “Robin and the Seven Hoods” and “Oceans Eleven”. His voice, articulation, as well as his respect for character actors impressed me, so I asked him to narrate my audio-book.

Also since actor Henry Silva is in both his father’s movie “The Manchurian Candidate” as well as “McKnight’s Memory” it seemed to me to be “cinematically historic” for both Mr. Silva and Frank Sinatra Jr. To be in this audio production together.

Mr. Sinatra requested his recording be done at night, as that is when most singers feel their voice is the best. He gave a concentrated performance, often coming up with changes in the text that were superior to the original.

For example, there is a line that read, “The hit man was dead before his 200 pound body crashed to the floor.” Mr. Sinatra changed it to:”The hit man was dead before his 200 pounds crashed to the floor.”

I loved this subtle, but powerful change. Then Mr. Sinatra said, “Okay fellas, I’ll read it as written so that you’ll have a choice.” But I knew right then which reading I would use. This happened a few other times as well.

I was in awe of Mr. Sinatra’s enunciation and sometimes ending a paragraph in an upward tone, leaving it hanging, as if more will come. I don’t know what that’s called, but it great.

During our breaks, Mr. Sinatra talked about the sets that he visited of some of the now classic movies, such as “Journey to the Center of the Earth” and “Them”.

He also explained why the lounge acts disappeared from Las Vegas casinos. When headliners lost popularity and could no long fill the large show rooms, they were moved to the lounge to entertain gamblers and provide music to the whole casino. But when the entertainers insisted that their act be curtained off from the casino, the owners decided that if the gamblers could not see or hear the acts, then why should they pay to have them in the lounge? Thus the lounge acts disappeared.

The production’s cast includes Robert Culp, Nancy Kwan, David Hedison, Henry Silva, Don Stroud, Barbara Leigh, Alan Young, Edd “Kookie” Byrnes, Gary Lockwood, and others. The production has full sound effects and music, like an “audio-movie”.

The story is a mystery/thriller about a CIA deputy director that get’s amnesia and for some unknown reason is marked for death by both the Mafia and the CIA. The woman he lives with, but can’t remember, goes on the run with him. But can he trust her?

I'm always asked what my inspiration is for a given play.

Play

At every talkback, reading or performance I’ve ever been to I get asked what my inspiration for a given play is. It’s always a challenge because who can describe what the genesis of a thought is… or dream for that matter. And in my case I often wonder if the two are interchangeable.

Unlike some dramatists, I don’t start with an idea or structural prompt or anything at all for that matter. I like to start with as clean a slate as I can so I’m open to the people who begin to visit me in my dream-like-writer-state. I try to be hyper-aware of what they say in those first few sentences and begin to suppose why they might say it.

From there I proceed up the path of realizations. I hope to have many such shudderings with each character. I hope to “guess wrong” and be surprised quite a few times as the lies all people tell are revealed to me.

Some say this makes me no more than a secretary, taking down the whims of my minions. But I think if you’re the arbiter of not only what gets revealed but also the order it’s revealed in… then you are both the CEO and the secretary… and I like that position.

Call me crazy. Call me strange. As long as you call me playwright, you’re okay by me.

I’ve attached a short monologue by way of an introduction. In the din of people shouting Barack Obama’s name, perhaps it will be heard in a different way.

Why I tell the stories I tell…

Play

There a lot of people in my world who keep expecting my next piece to be an edgy – hip play that pushes the boundaries and has lots of cool swear words and images. That isn’t going to happen. I just ain’t edgy.

People figure since I’m a blue collar dude from Chicago, I should be cranking out Mametian work rife with angst and f-bombs. There really is no reason to – Mamet already does it and very few do it better.

I try to tell stories that create a world that I would want to live in or at the very least control in some way or another. In some cases I want to recreate a moment so I can go back and fix what was broken for me – or for someone I love – in that moment. Sometimes I go back to pay tribute to the people or the event – or both. Sometimes I just want to go back because things were simpler in the twenty-first century.

My father used to take me to movies that were way over my head when I was a little kid and afterward we would go to the Majestic restaurant and get a cup of sherbet and he would patiently explain it to me. This created a passion for creating art that could be shared with a family across generations.

My mother and I used to write (terrible) pop songs. We pulled every cliché out of the book and arranged them with a forced rhyme scheme which I then typed up on her Princess Electra typewriter. Even the melodies we banged out on that old Sear guitar were predictable – but what a time we had. This created a passion to develop art with someone I love.

I tell the stories I tell because they are mine. They are my moments. They are my memories. I only hope I strike some universal chord with them and inspire someone else to mine their history for their own stories to share.

Something old, Something new

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I thought, for my first post, I’d put for comment a scene from my newest, yet oldest play. It’s called NIGHT AND FOG and I first wrote it almost twenty years ago. Recently, mostly because of the encouragement of a dear friend, I’ve returned to it and reworked it considerably. It concerns a journalist named Kevin Riley who was posted to Berlin in the early 1930’s just at the time of the Nazis’ rise to power. During his time there, he became very close friends with a man in the Propaganda Ministry named Ernst von Helldorf. It is now 1948. The war is over, the Nazis gone. There is a new war…a Cold one…and Berlin is under seige from the Soviets, kept alive only by the Berlin Airlift. Kevin Riley returns, not to cover the Airlift, but because Ernst von Helldorf is about to be hanged for war crimes. And because there are ghosts in his own past that need to be faced.

In this scene…which closes the first act…Ernst’s wife, Ilse, comes to Kevin to beg him to use whatever influence he might have to save Ernt’s life.

ACT ONE

Scene 3
(The same, the following morning)
(At rise, the stage is empty)
(Enter HEINZ LEUDTKE and ILSE VON HELLDORF)
(LEUDTKE is in his early forties, short, squat and balding. He wears a business suit and carries a battered leather briefcase)
(ILSE is in her late forties, an icily beautiful woman who might, on first inspection, pass for ten years younger. There is a cold remoteness about her, an icy unapproachability. She is a woman used to privilege and position. She has not adapted to the changes in her world. Nor will she.)
LEUDTKE
(exasperated)
I want it known very clearly that I oppose this. There is nothing to be gained here. We are on a fool’s errand.
ILSE
You have made your objections well known, Herr Leudtke. I grow weary of them. My husband grows weary of them.
LEUDTKE
Our time is precious and this American journalist can do nothing for us. I do not…I cannot…understand the Baron’s obsession with this man.
ILSE
You do not know Kevin Riley.
LEUDTKE
No, I do not. Nor do I wish to. He is a journalist, nothing more. I beg to remind you that we have but thirty-six hours before…
ILSE
I am perfectly aware of how much time remains!
(For a moment, there is a crack in her icy veneer, but only for a moment; then the remoteness returns)
LEUDTKE
My apologies, Baroness. I understand how difficult your position is. I was merely attempting to point out…
ILSE
You understand nothing, Leudtke. When this is over, what have you lost but a case? It is not you who will hang. It is not you whose life will be destroyed. You will remember that, please.
LEUDTKE
I am sorry. You are right, of course. But I do not see what we are to accomplish here. It is beyond me.
ILSE
There are many things beyond you. Saving my husband’s life was beyond you.
LEUDTKE
If I had been allowed to defend him as I wished…
ILSE
Defend him! You did not defend him! You know only grovelling and toadying…to the Americans, to the English…even to the Bolsheviks!
(She spits on the floor at his feet; he draws back as if struck)
ILSE (cont’d)
My husband would not grovel. He would not beg and you were left without resource. My husband is to hang because you kiss the feet of the conquerors.
LEUDTKE
(angry)
This is not so! I will not permit…!
ILSE
You will not permit? You will not permit…what? You are a weak, timid little man. My husband is not. How is it that his life is to be taken while a worm like you prospers?
(LEUDTKE turns away, white and thin-lipped with rage. For a moment, it seems he will strike her, but he restrains himself… with difficulty)
LEUDTKE
You forget yourself, Baroness.
ILSE
I forget nothing.
LEUDTKE
Ja! You forget! You forget where we are and who we are. You forget we are a defeated…yes, a conquered people. You forget whose airplanes fly over our heads. You forget who holds the power in Germany today. It is not the von Helldorfs, Baroness! It is no longer the von Helldorfs!
(He pauses for breath)
You forget, too, that were it not for a certain weakness for baccarat and the other…shall we say?…diversions of Monte Carlo, the Baron would not have been captured and we would not be here now, begging an American journalist for his life. You forget…but I don’t. So let us not speak of who is weak and who is not.
(SILENCE)
(Enter PAUL, from the office)
PAUL
What the fuck is all the noise…
(He stops, sees ILSE)
Frau von Helldorf?
ILSE
Herr Scanlon. How very nice to see you again.
PAUL
I didn’t expect to see you here.
ILSE
Nor did I expect to be here. But it has come to that.
PAUL
I’d forgotten.
ILSE
I assure you, you are not alone. Many have forgotten. But some have not. Some are not permitted to forget.
PAUL
Is there something I can do for you?
ILSE
I would like very much to see Kevin Riley. The matter is, I fear, quite urgent.
PAUL
Kevin? How do you know he’s here? I just found out myself.
ILSE
I assure you, Herr Scanlon, I know he is here. How I know…well, is that really so important?
PAUL
I suppose not. But I’m still confused. What is it you think Kevin can do for you? Or your husband?
LEUDTKE
Exactly! Exactly my question! Perhaps she can explain it to you, Herr Scanlon. She cannot…will not…explain it to me.
PAUL
And you are…who?
LEUDTKE
Pardon. I am Heinz Leudtke. I am Baron von Helldorf’s… advocate.
PAUL
I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what…
ILSE
I have come to save my husband’s life, Herr Scanlon.
PAUL
And you think Kevin can do that for you? Jesus, I knew he was good. I didn’t think he was that good.
LEUDTKE
I have attempted to explain to the Baroness that an American journalist, even one so prominent as Herr Riley, could not…
ILSE
Do not tell me what he can and cannot do! I have lived in America. I have seen the power of the American press. I know the power of a man like Kevin Riley. If he will do it, he can do it. This I know.
PAUL
I…see. I know the strain you’re under, Frau von Helldorf…
ILSE
Do you? Do you, indeed?
PAUL
Well…maybe not. But I think you’re exaggerating what Kevin can do.
ILSE
I exaggerate nothing. And I would like to see Kevin. Now, if you please.
PAUL
Well…maybe I please and maybe I don’t. But Kevin isn’t here. Fact is, I haven’t seen him yet myself. He might be a rumor for all I know.
ILSE
He is no rumor. And I am prepared to wait.
PAUL
Well, have a chair if you like.
(There is a uncomfortable silence. PAUL shuffles papers from desk to desk, pretending to read some, discarding others)
PAUL (cont’d)
You know, Frau von Helldorf, even if Kevin can do what you think he can…what makes you think he will?
ILSE
Why would he not? He was Ernst’s friend.
PAUL
That was a long time ago. And they didn’t exactly part well, as I recall.
ILSE
That was…another time. There were misunderstandings, this is true. But they were friends. Great friends. Surely Kevin has not forgotten this.
PAUL
I couldn’t say for sure what Kevin forgot and what he didn’t. But it’s just possible that he thinks someone else forgot.
(ILSE starts to speak, but is interrupted)
(Enter KEVIN and STRATTON)
(At first they don’t notice the others. STRATTON is reading from a sheet of paper)
STRATTON
Jesus Christ!
KEVIN
Not a bad story, eh?
STRATTON
Where did you get this stuff?
KEVIN
Like the man says…my sources are my sources.
STRATTON
I’m not kidding, Kevin. Some of this stuff is classified.
KEVIN
Really? That must be what I got from the Russians.
STRATTON
Smart ass!
KEVIN
Oh, shit, Greg, from what I hear the Russians know as much about this operation as we do and…
PAUL
And now the great god Riley has dropped from the sky and the sorry-assed Berlin bureau is saved. Shall we all get down on our knees, Kevin?
(KEVIN turns, surprised)
KEVIN
Hello, Paul.
PAUL
Don’t you fucking “Hello, Paul” me. You waltz in here, you take over half my bureau and you don’t even give me the courtesy of…
KEVIN
You don’t have to give yourself a stroke, Paul. It’s good to see you again, too.
(They laugh, start to shake hands, but then embrace)
PAUL
You could have let me know you were coming, you know.
KEVIN
Sorry. It came up kind of suddenly.
PAUL
I thought you weren’t here to write about the Airlift.
KEVIN
A story this big? It ought to be worth a line or two.
STRATTON
You’ve been in Berlin…how long?
KEVIN
Twenty-four hours, give or take.
STRATTON
Amazing.
KEVIN
So I’ve been told.
PAUL
Yeah, well, if you can tear yourself away, you’ve got visitors. Part of the story you did come to write, I think.
KEVIN
Oh?
(He turns to see ILSE and LEUDTKE)
Ilse?
ILSE
Hello, Kevin.
(There is a awkward silence)
STRATTON
I’ve got to be going. Look, Kevin, you’d better check that story or you’re going to be ass deep in alligators.
KEVIN
What’s new about that? It wouldn’t be the first time I pissed the Army off. It wouldn’t even be the first time I got kicked out of Berlin.
(Exit STRATTON)
KEVIN (cont’d)
(to ILSE)
How are you, Ilse?
ILSE
I am well…within limits. It was good of you to come all this way.
KEVIN
Uh, Paul, could we…?
PAUL
Sure, why not?
(To LEUDTKE)
Come along, Counselor. I’ll buy you a drink.
KEVIN
Better be a short one. You’re almost out of bourbon.
PAUL
(chuckles)
That fucking figures.
(Exit PAUL and LEUDTKE to the office)
ILSE
You haven’t changed, Kevin.
KEVIN
Nothing much changes. Except Berlin, of course.
ILSE
It is not much as it was in the old days.
KEVIN
You could say that.
ILSE
You were…where?… China?
KEVIN
Hong Kong, actually. I got kicked out of China. Again.
ILSE
Poor Kevin. You are forever being asked to leave, are you not? The Bolsheviks?
KEVIN
No, the Nationalists.
(Pause, smiling)
Again.
ILSE
Ernst had nothing to do with that.
KEVIN
So he wrote me. He said he was sorry for the…uh… “misunderstanding”.
ILSE
You never answered.
KEVIN
What was there to say? There was no misunderstanding, Ilse. He knew that. We both knew why he wanted me out of Berlin. We both knew eventually I would have found something, something your Foreign Office couldn’t get our State Department to kill. Ernst didn’t want that something to be him. And it probably would have been. So he needed me to be gone. And, truth to tell, I needed to be gone. I’d had a bellyful of Berlin by then.
ILSE
There are no pleasant memories? There were no good times?
KEVIN
You know there were.
ILSE
Ernst was your friend.
KEVIN
And I was fucking my friend’s wife. Aren’t those the good times we’re talking about?
ILSE
I would not put it so crudely.
KEVIN
No…you wouldn’t. But you loved it when I did.
(She glares at him for a moment, then softens)
ILSE
Those times. Yes.
KEVIN
Then I guess I wasn’t such a good friend, after all.
ILSE
He was your friend. What was between us was between us.
KEVIN
I always thought he knew. I always thought he did what he did because…
ILSE
It had nothing to do with that! He did his duty! He was a German doing what his country required of him. As you would have done. As any man would have done.
KEVIN
He was “following orders”?
ILSE
Yes! He was!
KEVIN
Then why didn’t he say that at his trial?
ILSE
Because he would not. He is a proud man and he would not crawl. Laugh if you want to. It is the truth. It is so easy for you, Kevin. It was not your country.
KEVIN
I suppose he didn’t know, either. About Auschwitz or…
ILSE
He had nothing to do with the camps!
KEVIN
But did he know?
ILSE
If you hanged every German who knew and said nothing, did nothing, you would have to hang every third one of us. You would have to hang me. Is that what you want, Kevin? To hang us all? To hang me?
KEVIN
No. That isn’t what I want.
ILSE
He doesn’t deserve to die. There are a hundred, a thousand, who did worse things than he did. The camps…they were other men’s work, not Ernst’s. Why must he die for it?
KEVIN
The teeth, Ilse. What about the teeth?
ILSE
Teeth? What has that to do with…
KEVIN
He took everything they had. Their houses, their money, their businesses. He took the clothes off their backs and the hair off their heads. And he took their teeth. For the gold, Ilse. He took their teeth for the gold.
ILSE
He did what was necessary.
KEVIN
And if it was necessary to drop gas pellets on two thousand cold naked Jews, he’d have done that, too. Wouldn’t he?
ILSE
Yes! He would have!
KEVIN
Then let’s stop the fucking game! He was what he was. There was Himmler and there was Heydrich and there was von Helldorf! And we both know it!
ILSE
What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?
KEVIN
Stop the lies. That’s all.
(Pause)
What does he want from me?
ILSE
I don’t know.
(KEVIN laughs skeptically)
ILSE (cont’d)
It is the truth! I don’t know. I don’t think he knows himself.
KEVIN
And you, Ilse? What do you want?
ILSE
I want to save my husband’s life. Is that so difficult to understand?
KEVIN
No. It isn’t difficult at all.
ILSE
He was your friend, Kevin. Whatever else he was, he was that. Does it mean nothing to you now? Can you not help him now?
KEVIN
What do you think I can do?
ILSE
You have friends. You have always been able to…do things. Even here. Even in Berlin. You could always do things with a wink and a smile. That is what I ask of you now. If he ever meant anything to you…if I ever meant anything to you…
KEVIN
There’s nothing I can do.
ILSE
Nothing you can do? Or nothing you will do?
KEVIN
It amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?
(Pause)
Yes, I have friends. I have powerful friends. I had powerful friends right here in Berlin in 1934. I ate with them. I drank with them. I even fucked one of them. But when I needed them, they played me for a sucker and kicked me out of the country. So much for powerful friends. And so much for Eric Schreiber. Maybe you’ve forgotten him. I haven’t.
ILSE
A Jew? This is about a Jew?
KEVIN
Just that. A Jew. One Jew. Someone else can worry about the six million-odd others. I’m here about just the one.
(SILENCE)
ILSE
So. This is what it comes to. You’ve come to revenge yourself on him.
KEVIN
You’re the second person who’s said that to me. It isn’t true. I haven’t come to get even. I have nothing to get even for. What he took didn’t belong to me. It belonged to others. They’ll have to pardon him. I can’t.
ILSE
Then it is truly hopeless.
(She looks at him, desolate. Involuntarily, he begins to reach out for her, then draws back)
ILSE (cont’d)
I’m sorry you’ve come so far for nothing.
KEVIN
Maybe it was for nothing. Maybe it wasn’t. I don’t know yet.
(ILSE starts for the door, then stops)
ILSE
You were not so innocent yourself in those days, you know. He could have had you shot. He could have made you disappear so you would never be heard from again. He did not. Perhaps you owe him for that, Kevin. Perhaps you owe him…something.
(Exit ILSE)
(KEVIN takes a step after her then stops)
(Enter PAUL and LEUDTKE)
PAUL
It wasn’t a success, I take it.
KEVIN
It wasn’t a success.
LEUDTKE
My apologies, Herr Riley. I have tried for days to convince the Baroness that there was nothing you could do. But once something takes hold of her…well, she is a determined woman. It was foolish of her to hope. It will be a century before the Nazi madness is forgotten.
(He takes paper from his coat and hands it to KEVIN)
Baron von Helldorf would deem it a privilege if you would visit him this afternoon. I have brought you this pass. I fear there may not be many more opportunities for old friends to meet.
(Pause, he waits as if he expects a response, but KEVIN says nothing)
I had best take my leave. It has been a great honor to meet you, Herr Riley.
(Exit LEUDTKE)
PAUL
Well, Kevin? Was it worth the trip?
(BLACKOUT)

Sneak peek of "Italian Lights; Not Stars"

Play

Act One Scene Eight

TOMMY enters. HE looks around to see that there is no one in the yard and no one on the porch. HE looks up.

TOMMY

Hey Dad… It’s me. It’s your little Tommy. I just wanted to let you know that even though you couldn’t be here today – everyone is thinking about you. Feeb and Lenny did a real good job makin’ the place look good. Some folks are sayin’ it’s because they’re afraid of Anthony. I think it’s because they’re family and they want the best for your little boy.

Maria is going to make a great wife. I know she’s scared – hell – oops – heck – I’m scared, but this is the moment we all been waiting for – for a long time. I just wish you was here and not watching from the skybox.

Anyway – I since I can’t send you no card, I just wanted to take a minute to thank you for everything. No guy ever had a better father and – well – I may not have always been the best son, but you never gave up on me and when me and Maria start poppin’ out pups – I’ll do ‘em the same way.

Say Hi to God and Jesus and Elvis for me, will ya? I love you… Bye for now…

TOMMY exits as the lights fade

End of Act One

an excerpt from a play-in-development, FOR SOME REASON COMMA SHE LAUGHED

Play

Four sisters come to the Jersey shore for a girls weekend; they mean to celebrate the 30th birthday of the youngest among them, Ruth. Ruth is recently divorced and feeling bad about herself and her sisters decide that suprising her with a beautfiul young man might be just the thing to lift her spirits.

SCENE ONE

(THE SCENE BEGINS IN THE DARK. WE HEAR A MIX OF FURTIVE VOICES IN THE DISTANCE, THESE GRADUALLY GROWING LOUDER. AS LIGHTS VERY GRADUALLY COME UP, THE FOUR SISTERS ENTER; EXACTLY AT WHAT POINT IN THE EARLY DIALOGUE THIS ENTRANCE OCCURS SHOULD BE LEFT TO THE DIRECTOR, IT CAN BE EARLIER THAN IS INDICATED IN THE SCRIPT OR LATER, BUT THE SCENE SHOULD BEGIN WITH VOICES ALONE IN THE DARK. DOWNSTAGE WE SEE A BED, SOME CHAIRS. THIS IS A MOTEL ROOM AT THE NEW JERSEY SHORE. STREWN ABOUT ARE HALF-HEARTED ATTEMPTS AT BIRTHDAY DECORATIONS, A FEW BALLOONS PERHAPS, A BANNER, MAYBE A HALF-EATEN CAKE. UPSTAGE AN OPEN DOOR LEADS TO AN IMAGINARY ADJOINING ROOM; NEAR IT IS A DOOR TO A CLOSET. OFF TO THE SIDE, WE SEE A DOOR THAT APPARENTLY OPENS OUT TO THE BEACH. THIS IS THE DOOR THE CHARACTERS WILL ENTER AS THE ACT GETS UNDERWAY, IF ONLY WITH SOME EFFORT. SARAH IS BACKING INTO THE ROOM, SHARING HALF OF A MAN’S LIMP BODY WITH HER SISTER RUTH, THEN, AFTER A NUMBER OF STARTS AND STOPS AND RE-THINKINGS COME THE OTHER TWO SISTERS MERCEDES AND SOPHIA CARRYING HIS FEET AND LOWERS LIMBS. GETTING HIM THROUGH THE DOOR IS CLUMSY, PAINSTAKING, AND THIS SHOULD ESTABLISH A PATTERN FOR WHAT WILL HAPPEN AS THEY TRY TO STUFF HIS BODY INTO A CLOSET WITH A DOOR THAT WON’T STAY CLOSED, THEN A TRUNK THAT REFUSES TO OPEN. EVERYTHING FROM THIS POINT FORWARD IS A SEQUENCE OF REVERSALS, A SERIES OF AWKWARD STARTS AND STOPS, FRUSTRATING TO THE POINT OF BEING MADDENING, AS THEY TRY TO FIT THE CORPSE INTO EVER-SMALLER CONTAINERS.) MERCEDES: Do you know what I usually look for in a man?

SOPHIA: One who will leave? MERCEDES:I tell myself what I want is a relationship, and none of the men I meet are— SOPHIA:

The trouble begins when they want to stay on, that’s where things go wrong. RUTH: Then this one is really going to be a problem for you.

SOPHIA:

Tell us about it! What could have been going through your mind? I thought you were going to hire a male stripper. SARAH: He never showed up. I thought, There goes our big surprise, now what do we give Ruthie for her thirtieth birthday? So Sadie and I started up the beach and the next thing you know, guess who we run into, Johnny Rocket here. I mean, come on, a lifeguard just getting off duty? It seemed like a gift from the gods. SOPHIA: Well, so long as everything worked out for the best.

MERCEDES: Perhaps if you hadn’t shown up the last minute, Soph– We would have been only too happy to let you–

SOPHIA: A lifeguard, honestly, Sarah, sometimes I don’t know what gets into your head. RUTH: Lighten up, Soph, it’s not Sarah’s fault, she didn’t do it.

SARAH: You get so intense. SOPHIA: This is absolutely incredible. I think we’re really in trouble this time.

MERCEDES: Soph is right, you know. SOPHIA: I can’t believe I let you get me into this.

MERCEDES: It was for Ruthie’s thirtieth birthday, okay? We were doing it for her. RUTH: I don’t see why we just didn’t call the police.

SARAH: Think. Ben doesn’t know I’m here. I told him I was visiting my aunt in
Ocala. RUTH: Do we have an aunt in
Florida? I didn’t know we had an aunt in Florida.How can Sarah have an aunt in
Florida if the rest of us don’t? We’re sisters.

MERCEDES: I think that’s Sarah’s point, Ruthie. SARAH: I faked airline reservations, a room at a hotel—you’d think I was planning the
Normandy invasion. Can you imagine how pleased Ben would be to know I scooted off to the Jersey shore to drink with my sisters?! There’s not much left of the marriage to begin with. This would kill it for good. Besides, can you imagine what this will do to Soph’s chances at Goldman Sachs!

SOPHIA: Sarah’s right. Do you know how many vice presidents with ovaries there are at Goldman Sachs, can you imagine how much crap I’ve had to take to get that far in my career?! I mean, I’m this far away from a major promotion; let something like this get in the newspaper and I’ll be back doing taxes at an H and R Block in
White Plains. RUTH:I thought H and R Block went out of business–Was that just a figure of speech, or what? MERCEDES: And that would be light compared to what I’d be facing. I was supposed to be in
Washington this weekend. We’re trying the 8th District banking case. I mean all of us had to sneak away to be here, not just Sarah.

SARAH: Can’t we talk about this later? Wait. Let me see if I can’t– RUTH: Look at him. He’s cute. MERCEDES:Had I known this was going to–

SOPHIA: How could you have talked me into this, Sarah? SARAH: You weren’t complaining an hour ago when he was bumping and grinding. And neither were you, Mercedes. SOPHIA:

Yeah? Well now he’s dead. Pardon me if I’m in the middle of a mood swing, okay? SARAH (ENTERING): All we need is a little time to think. RUTH: Yeah?

SARAH: We need to sit and think this through. There’s got to be a way we can minimize the damage—We just have to put him somewhere no one can see him and decide what to do. SOPHIA: Back up.

MERCEDES: Like this? RUTH: Why’d we have to take the long way, anyway?

MERCEDES: DUHHH! To keep him out of the light maybe? SOPHIA:

Where are we going to put him? MERCEDES: Yeah, where should we put him, in the other room? SOPHIA: Sure, let’s put him on the bed in there. (STRUGGLING WITH THE BODY, THE FOUR SISTERS FINALLY GET IT THROUGH THE NARROW DOOR UPSTAGE. FROM OFF WE HEAR:)

SOPHIA: (EXITING/OFF) Do you know what I’m afraid of? MERCEDES: (EXITING/OFF) Photo-aging?

SOPHIA: (EXITING/OFF) There are cops who patrol this beach. What if somebody saw us? RUTH:

(OFF) All of his clothes are in here. SOPHIA: (OFF) And the lights don’t work, remember? MERCEDES:

(OFF) Ouch. What’s this? SARAH: (OFF) It’s a trunk. It’s from the lifeguard tower up the beach. He was pulling it behind him. He was done for the day, remember? MERCEDES: (OFF) Ouch.

RUTH: (OFF) Back up. I’m not fitting. SOPHIA: (OFF) A trunk full of stuff to save lives, huh? There’s an irony I’m not ready to appreciate.

MERCEDES: (OFF) Hey, I don’t fit, I can’t get through here. SARAH: (OFF) We’ll have to go back to the other room.

SOPHIA: (OFF) This was such a stupid idea, getting Ruthie laid on her thirtieth birthday. SARAH: (OFF) I thought it’d be a great surprise.

RUTH: (OFF) It was a great surprise, Sarah. And excuse me for living, but I like sex. I’ve missed it since my divorce from Nick. The truth is, none of you ever liked Nick. SARAH: We liked him.

MERCEDES: We just thought he was lacking something. SOPHIA: Like opposing thumbs. SARAH:(OFF,THEN ONE BY ONE THE SISTERS REAPPEAR ON STAGE, THE FOUR STRUGGLING EVEN MORE MIGHTILY TO GET HIM OUT OF THE ROOM THAN THEY HAVE STRUGGLED TO GET HIM INTO IT)Sadie can’t get through. Okay?

SOPHIA: He’s really getting heavy. (THE SISTERS HAVE FINALLY SUCCEEDED IN GETTING THE BODY THROUGH THE DOOR ONCE AND FOR ALL) RUTH:

I don’t want him out here with my underwear and toothbrush. MERCEDES: Well put him somewhere, and quick, I’m losing my grip. RUTH:

Oh great: THE LOOK. I don’t care, Soph. That’s my toothbrush, okay? Creep me out a little, why don’t you. SARAH: Nothing’s wrong, I’m telling you. There’s nothing wrong we can’t fix.

SOPHIA: Yeah, well if nothing’s wrong, why has your voice gone up an octave or two? I mean, you had a kind of Julia Childs thing going there for a minute in the other room. RUTH: I think I’m losing my grip.

MERCEDES: Let’s try to keep our heads. SOPHIA: You lied to us, Sarah. You said you were going to get a stripper for Ruth so she’d feel better about herself.

SARAH: Let’s try the closet. SOPHIA: You looked us right in the eye and you lied to us. He was just some boy you picked up.

SARAH: Be careful. SOPHIA: Are you kidding me with this?

RUTH: I’m losing my grip, stop for a minute. MERCEDES: Well don’t drop him, for God’s sakes.

SOPHIA:Darn it, Sarah, you’re going too fast. SARAH:Well don’t get testy with me, I didn’t do it. RUTH:

I can’t see where I’m stepping. SARAH: Were the rooms always this far away from the shoreline or did they move them? I’m out of breath. RUTH:

We used to be younger, remember? SOPHIA: And too we were probably stoned. MERCEDES:

If we were ten years younger it wouldn’t be a problem. (AS THEY TRY TO STUFF HIM INTO THE CLOSET; TRYING TO STUFF HIM INSIDE IN A SITTING/SLUMPING POSITION. AS THIS IS HAPPENING:) SARAH: Ten years, huh? Great.

SOPHIA: I’ll put it on my to-do list. MERCEDES: Wait a minute.

RUTH: Let me just shift this. SOPHIA: You think this wouldn’t be a problem?

SARAH: Do you think anyone saw? RUTH: You don’t think anyone saw, do you?

MERCEDES: At this hour? SOPHIA: Go the other way.

SARAH: Don’t push me, okay? (NO SOONER DO THEY GET HIM INSIDE AND SHUT THE DOOR AND BEGIN TO CATCH THEIR BREATH THAN THE DOOR SWINGS OPEN AS HIS WEIGHT IS PRESSED AGAINST IT. THEY PUSH HIM BACK, LEAN THEIR COLLECTIVE WEIGHT AGAINST THE DOOR. THE MINUTE THEY STEP AWAY, THE DOOR OPENS; THE DOOR, IT SEEMS, WILL NOT LATCH. WORDLESSLY THEY RETRIEVE THE BODY, TWO SISTERS WITH HIS FEET AND ANKLES, TWO AT THE OTHER END. ONCE THEY HAVE HIM IN TOW:) RUTH: Not so fast, he’s slipping again.

MERCEDES:Well? Any thoughts, Sarah? RUTH:I know this isn’t the best time to thank you all, but I really did enjoy it. I mean, it was the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten. I felt like a twenty-year-old again.

MERCEDES: I feel like a twenty-year-old anytime, day or night. SOPHIA: I don’t think that’s what she meant, Mercedes.

SARAH: The bed? MERCEDES: I guess.

SOPHIA: Put him anywhere for now MERCEDES:

How did this happen, Ruthie? RUTH: I don’t know. We were out on the beach. He said, Would you like to do it on the beach. You decide, it’s your hundred bucks. MERCEDES:

It was actually our hundred bucks, but go on with your story. RUTH: So we were doing it. On the beach. And his heart stopped or something. Shouldn’t we put him down somewhere? SARAH:

You mean, he just sort of gasped or something, in the middle everything? Ooooh. The thought of that makes my skin crawl. MERCEDES: Wasn’t it awful? RUTH:

A little. SARAH: And you probably had to wiggle out from beneath him. RUTH: It would have been worse if I’d never been married.

SARAH: (STRAINING, HOLDING UP MORE THAN HER SHARE OF THE LOAD FOR A MOMENT AS HER SISTER RUTH STANDS AGHAST) LET’S JUST PUT HIM ON THE BED. FOR RIGHT NOW? LET’S JUST GET HIM ONTO THE BED, OKAY? RUTH:

Ooooo. I took a nap in that bed. SARAH: Let’s get his head up at that end. MERCEDES: Ruthie, if it’s not too much trouble?

RUTH: (SHARING THE LOAD AGAIN) Sorry. SARAH: Ready?

SOPHIA: One. Two. Three. RUTH: Do you know who he looks like? He looks a little like Brian.

SARAH: Remember Brian? MERCEDES:

I remember. RUTH: He had the greatest little smile, didn’t he. SARAH: Whatever happened to Brian, anyway? Why’d you two break up, Sadie? SOPHIA:

He graduated high school and moved to
Wyoming. RUTH: No he didn’t, stop it, I see him all the time, it’s some kind of riding academy or something, he’s doing something with horses. SARAH:

How old was he, fifteen or something? MERCEDES: Okay, I admit it, he might have been a little young for me. SARAH: But he was SO cute.

SOPHIA: A riding academy, huh? Well that’s certainly appropriate RUTH: Oh God. Look at him. It’s just dawning on me. Oh God. What are we going to do? He’s really dead, isn’t he. OHGODOHGODOHGOD!

SOPHIA: Ruthie’s shaking. SARAH: You realize of course someone’s going to miss him in an hour or two.

MERCEDES: Where’s the vodka? SOPHIA: (AS RUTH SIPS, REGISTERING THE DISGUST OF SOME UNFAMILIAR WITH LIQUOR) Did anyone get his name?

RUTH: OHGODOHGODOHGOD. Tell me this isn’t happening. SOPHIA: What’s wrong now?

SARAH: Are you all right? MERCEDES:

Do you want some more vodka? SARAH: His clothes are in the other room. Maybe he had a driver’s license. MERCEDES:

This is great. This is peachy. SARAH: Is somebody going to go look through his clothes or not? SOPHIA:

How long do you have after someone dies to call the police? Sadie? MERCEDES: Don’t look at me. I’m a tax attorney. I mean, I can help you settle his estate. SARAH:

We’ve got to think. Who wants to go through his clothes and try to find his wallet? Any volunteers? SOPHIA: What good will that do? SARAH:

I just think we should know his name. MERCEDES: So do I. SOPHIA:

This is sick, this is all so sick! RUTH: It didn’t matter while he was living. SARAH:

Well it matters now. Okay? SOPHIA: May I just suggest we take a moment and weigh the consequences of this. MERCEDES:

Could someone get a sheet from the other room. Let’s put a sheet over him at least. RUTH: I’ll go. SOPHIA:

Yeah? RUTH: I think so. MERCEDES:

Here. RUTH: (WHILE HER SISTERS LOOK ON–CHUGGING THE VODKA, AS IF INTENDING TO DRAIN THE BOTTLE) But then somebody else has to go through his pants. (EXIT) SOPHIA:

Where did you find him, Sadie? Are you sure that nobody saw? MERCEDES: Up the beach. He was heading back to Lifeguard Central, or wherever the hell they go. SARAH:

Are you okay in there, Ruthie? RUTH: (OFF) I can’t find the light. SARAH:

Ruthie, the light doesn’t work. Remember? SOPHIA: And what did Johnny Rocket say when you offered him money? For sex, I mean. MERCEDES:

You’re not a cop, are you? SOPHIA: What? MERCEDES:

That’s what he said, “You’re not a cop, are you?” SARAH: We have to figure out a story. When the questions come–and they will–we’re going to have to have some answers. RUTH:

(OFF) Okay. I got it. Here I come. I’m coming to put a sheet over the dead man. Here I am taking a step. Here I am taking another step. MERCEDES: You’d better pace yourself. RUTH:

(OFF/ENTERING) Here I am taking a step. Here I am taking another step. And there, of course, is the dead man, who I was recently screwing. SOPHIA: Had enough to drink, have you? RUTH: Not yet. Look at me. Here I am, putting a sheet over the dead man. (COVERING HIM ONLY TO HIS CHIN, AS THOUGH HE WERE ONLY ASLEEP)

SOPHIA: Excuse me. MERCEDES:

Did you forget something? RUTH: What, where? SARAH:

His face? SOPHIA: Who’s idea was this, anyway? Getting Ruthie laid on her thirtieth birthday, God, what a stupid idea! SARAH:

Can we just? You’re repeating yourself. ` RUTH: She’s upset. SOPHIA:

Am I that transparent? RUTH: You both blame me, don’t you? MERCEDES:

Blame you for this? No. SOPHIA: Of course we blame you for a lot of other things. RUTH:

I can see it in your eyes. How long will it be before the three of you forgive me? SOPHIA: When’s the next Harmonic Convergence? RUTH:

Yuck, I can’t do it, I can’t touch him, not again. I just rubbed against his chest by accident and it feels like breast of chicken. MERCEDES: Thank you for confiding. RUTH:

You can’t believe what that felt like. MERCEDES: Yeah? RUTH:

Yeah. SOPHIA: This is making my brain hurt. Does anyone care? RUTH:

I don’t even want to think about what our mother would say right now if she was here. MERCEDES: Face facts. We’re not our mother. SARAH:

Our mother would not be in a motel room with a corpse. RUTH: At least not without knowing his name. SOPHIA:

I don’t know how you do it, Ruthie. It’s one catastrophe after another. You somehow manage to turn ridiculous situations into complete and total disasters. (A KNOCK AT THE DOOR) RUTH: Who could that be?

SOPHIA: Don’t answer it. (MORE KNOCKING, MORE PERSISTENTLY NOW) MERCEDES:

You don’t think it’s the police, do you? SARAH: Somebody’s going to have to answer it. RUTH:

I’ll go. MERCEDES: Right. SARAH:

Somebody else has to go. SOPHIA: Yeah, but who? RUTHIE:

I’m scared. SOPHIA: Why does everything have to be about you, Ruthie. RUTH:

No, everything’s suppose to be about you, I suppose. SARAH: This isn’t the time or the place, Soph. SOPHIA:

I know, but COME ON ALREADY, she’s not the only person on the planet. Why does everything always have to be about Ruthie, anyway? Ever since we were little, she’s been the one who got all the attention. Do you remember when mom and dad found out she was dyslexic? God, suddenly there’s tutors, special schools. Can I tell you something, Sarah? You know how I struggled in middle school, I couldn’t pass a blood test, okay? I’m telling you, the birth order is everything. If I’d been born the baby of the family, like Ruthie, instead of being born after you and Sadie–I was never convinced she had a learning disorder to begin with. I’m serious. I’m telling you this in only the most positive spirit, Ruthie, I hope you know that, but if you ask me, you never had a learning disorder in the first place. You were just a little–slow. Okay? There. I’ve said it, SO SHOOT ME. There’s always been a little something missing. Sarah, Mercedes? I think you’ll agree with me, Ruthie’s never the brightest bulb on the tree, ever. Look, let’s just talk about something else. MERCEDES: Stop it. Both of you. Let’s get coordinated. If it’s the police, are we telling the truth? SARAH:

We’re going to have to lie for now. RUTH: Let Sophie answer it then. She lies a lot better than she tells the truth, she started out as a stock broker. SOPHIA: (COMPOSING HERSELF) Why should I be upset?

MERCEDES: Okay? SOPHIA: How do I look?

MERCEDES: Act like nothing’s wrong, Soph. RUTH: Look on the bright side.

(THIS STOPS THE OTHERS DEAD IN THEIR TRACKS, WHO LOOK AT ONE ANOTHER’S FACES) MERCEDES: Thanks, Ruthie. SOPHIA:

I’m good to go after that. (THE KNOCKING BECOMES MORE PERSISTENT STILL. IT STOPS, SUDDENLY. A KEY TURNS IN THE LOCK. BEFORE THEY CAN GET TO THE DOOR IT STARTS TO BE PUSHED OPEN SLOWLY FROM THE OUTSIDE. THE SISTERS LINE UP ON THE SIDE OF THE BED NEAREST THE DOOR, SITTING UNCOMFORTABLY TO BLOCK A VIEW OF THE CORPSE. THE ACTOR BENEATH THE SHEET SHOULD HAVE HIS HAND AT ABOUT WAIST LEVEL. BIT BY BIT HE SHOULD RAISE HIS HAND SO THAT IT APPEARS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUDIENCE THAT THE CORPSE IS ACHIEVING AN ERECTION IN INCREMENTS. ALL OF THIS IS OUT OF VIEW OF THE SISTERS, SO, WHILE THE ACTOR IS RAISING, THEN LOWERING, THEN RAISING HIS HAND, IT SHOULD BE A SIGHT-GAG THE AUDIENCE IS AWARE OF WELL AHEAD SOPHIA OR THE OTHERS, WHO ARE DOING THEIR BEST TO DECIDE ON A WAY TO GET RID OF THE MAID. A MAID HAS COME WITH FRESH TOWELS. IT IS CLEAR WHY SHE’S THERE; SHE HAS A STACK OF THESE IN HER ARMS. BUT THE SISTERS SEEM DUMBSTRUCK. THE PAUSE HERE SEEMS MORE PROLONGED SINCE EVERYONE IS SILENT, AND THE AUDIENCE SHOULD BE GIVEN ALL THE TIME IT NEEDS TO NOTICE WHAT’S HAPPENING IN THE BED. FINALLY THE MAID SENSES THAT THERE IS SOMETHING BEHIND THEM WHICH SHE’S NOT SUPPOSE TO SEE. WHEN THE MAID MOVES TO HER RIGHT TO SEE WHAT’S BEHIND THEM, THEY SHOULD MOVE TO THEIR LEFT. WHEN SHE GOES TO HER LEFT, THEY GO TO THEIR RIGHT. THIS HAPPENS SEVERAL TIMES, WITH THE SWAYING GROWING MORE PRONOUNCED. FINALLY SHE FEINTS IN ONE DIRECTION, GOES IN THE OTHER, AND SOPHIA RISES JUST AS SHE DOES TO GET HER OUT THROUGH THE DOOR, THEN TURNS, AS HER SISTERS TURN. ONCE THE SISTERS SEE WHAT THE MAID’S EYES ARE NOW FIXED UPON, THE ERECTION BENEATH THE SHEETS:) MAID:

Who’s birthday?

*