comedy & biomechanics

mini-chekhov : teatr.vtheatre.net/bear The Bear

The Proposal [bottom]

"postmodern comedy"

... pomo.vtheatre.net:

Lessons by Chaplin

BEYOND THERAPY :
Bruce and Prudence are deeply into therapy. Prudence's macho therapist is urging her to be more assertive while Bruce's wacky female therapist wants him to meet women by placing a personal ad. She does not fully comprehend that Bruce has a male lover who is not pleased by Bruce's desire to date a woman: Prudence. Bruce doesn't know how to handle poor nervous Prudence and Prudence doesn't know what to make of her unpredictable new boyfriend. They do learn to live beyond therapy in this delightful Off-Broadway hit that moved successfully to Broadway.

"Offers the best therapy of all: guaranteed laughter." Time Magazine

"Filled with off beat laugh lines, wry observations on the contemporary urban psyche and situations that range from farcical to absurd." Women's Wear Daily

[ class project ]

R/G are Dead by Stoppard -- http://www.lib.ru/PXESY/STOPPARD/r_g_engl.txt

... in class analysis filmplus.org/plays/2008 :

PLAYER (mini-monologues) :

... PLAYER: Tragedy, sir. Deaths and disclosures, universal and particular, denouements both unexpected and inexorable, transvestite melodrama on all levels including the suggestive. We transport you into the world of intrigue and illusion... clowns, if you like, murderers - we can do you ghosts and battles, on the skirmish levels, heroes, villains, tormented lovers - set pieces in the poetic vein; we can do you rapiers or rape or both, by all means, faithless wives and ravished virgins - flagrante delicto at a price, but that comes under realism for which there are special terms. Getting warm, am I? (act I)

[ texts ]

PLAYER: We're actors... We pledged our identities, secure in the conventions of our trade; that someone would be watching. And than, gradually, no one was. We were caught, high and dry. It was not until the murder's long soliloquy that we were able to look around; frozen we were in the profil, our eyes searched you out, first confidently, then hesitantly, then desperately as each patch of turf, each log, each exposed corned in every direction proved uninhabited, and all the while the murderous King addressed the horizon with his dreary interminable guilt... Our heads began to move, wary as lizards, the corpse of unsullied Rosalinda peeped through his fingers, and the King faltered. Even then, habit and a stubborn trust that our audience spied upon us from behind the nearest bush, forced our bodies to blunder on long after they had emptied of meaning, until like runaway carts they dragged to a halt. No one came forward. No one shouted at us. The silence was unbreakable, it imposed itself upon us; it was obscene. We took off our crowns and swords and cloth of gold and moved silent on the road to Elsinore. (Act 2)

... Situation comedy vs. comedy of Characters

* comedy scenes -- Mikado +

[ midterm and final ]

... final 2009 (also, direct.vtheatre.net)

Beyond Therapy
by Christopher Durang

ACT I SCENE 3 "The Absentminded Therapist" (tentative title)

CAST: Charlotte: Claire Wool
Bruce: Sergio Santana

The office of CHARLOTTE WALLACE. Probably reddish hair, bright clothing; a Snoopy dog on her desk. If there are walls in the set around her, they have drawings done by children.

CHARLOTTE (into intercom): You may send the next patient in, Marcia. (She arranges herself at her desk, smiles in anticipation. Enter Bruce. He sits.) Hello.

BRUCE: Hello. (Pause.) Should I just begin?

CHARLOTTE: Would you like to begin?

BRUCE: I threw a glass of water at someone in a restaurant.

CHARLOTTE: Did you?

BRUCE: Yes.

CHARLOTTE: Did they get all wet?

BRUCE: Yes. (Silence.)

CHARLOTTE: (points to a child’s drawing): Did I show you this drawing?

BRUCE: I don’t remember. They all look alike.

CHARLOTTE: It was drawn by an emotionally disturbed three-year-old. His parents beat him every morning after breakfast. Orange juice, toast, Special K.

BRUCE: Uh huh.

CHARLOTTE: Do you see the point I’m making?

BRUCE: Yes, I do, sort of. (Pause.) What point are you making?

CHARLOTTE: Well, the point is that when a porpoise first comes to me, it is often immediately clear . . . did I say porpoise? What word do I want? Porpoise. Pompous. Pom Pom. Paparazzi. Polyester. Pollywog. Olley olley oxen free. Patient. I’m sorry, I mean patient. Now what was I saying?

BRUCE: Something about when a patient comes to you.

CHARLOTTE (slightly irritated): Well, give me more of a clue.

BRUCE: Something about the child’s drawing and when a patient comes to you?

CHARLOTTE: Yes. No, I need more. Give me more of a hint.

BRUCE: I don’t know.

CHARLOTTE: Oh I hate this, when I forget what I’m saying. Oh, damn. Oh, damn, damn, damn. Well, we’ll just have to forge on. You say something for a while, and I’ll keep trying to remember what I was saying. (She moves her lips.)

BRUCE (after a bit): Do you want me to talk?

CHARLOTTE: Would you like to talk?

BRUCE: I had an answer to the ad I put in.

CHARLOTTE: Ad?

BRUCE: Personal ad.

CHARLOTTE (remembering, happy): Oh, yes. Personal ad. I told you that was how the first Mr. Wallace and I met. Oh yes. I love personal ads. They’re so basic. Did it work out for you?

BRUCE: Well, I liked her, and I tried to be emotionally open with her. I even let myself cry.

CHARLOTTE: Good for you!

BRUCE: But she didn’t like me. And then she threw water in my face.

CHARLOTTE: Oh dear. I’m so sorry. One has to be so brave to be emotionally open and vulnerable. Oh, you poor thing. I’m going to give you a hug. (She hugs him.) What did you do when she threw water in your face?

BRUCE: I threw it back in her face.

CHARLOTTE: Oh good for you! Bravo! (She barks for Snoopy and bounces him up and down.) Ruff, ruff, ruff! Oh, I feel you getting so much more emotionally expressive since you’ve been in therapy, I’m proud of you.

BRUCE: Maybe it was my fault. I probably came on too strong.

CHARLOTTE: Uh, life is so difficult. I know when I met the second Mr. Wallace . . . you know, it’s so strange, all my husbands have had the same surname of Wallace, this has been a theme in my own analysis . . . Well, when I met the second Mr. Wallace, I got a filing cabinet stuck in my throat . . . I don’t mean a filing cabinet. What do I mean? Filing cabinet, fraying pan, frog’s eggs, faculty wives, frankincense, fornication, Folies Bergères, falling, falling, fork, fish fork, fish bone. I got a fish bone caught in my throat. (Smiles. Long silence.)

BRUCE: And did you get it out?

CHARLOTTE: Oh yes. Then we got married, and we had quite a wonderful relationship for a while, but then he started to see this fishwife and we broke up. I don’t mean fishwife, I mean waitress. Is that a word, waitress?

BRUCE: Yes. Woman who works in a restaurant.

CHARLOTTE: No, she didn’t work in a restaurant, she worked in a department store. Sales . . . lady. That’s what she was.

BRUCE: That’s too bad.

CHARLOTTE: He was buying a gift for me, and then he ran off with the saleslady. He never even gave me the gift, he just left me a note. And then I was so very alone for a while. (Cries. After a bit, he gives her a hug and a few kisses from the Snoopy doll. She is suitably grateful.) I’m afraid I’m taking up too much of your session. I’ll knock a few dollars off the bill. You talk for a while, I’m getting tired anyway.

BRUCE: Well, so I’m sort of afraid to put another ad in the paper since seeing how this one worked out.

CHARLOTTE: Oh, don’t be afraid! Never be afraid to risk, to risk! I’ve told you about Equus, haven’t I? That doctor, Doctor Dysart, with whom I greatly identify, saw that it was better to risk madness and to blind horses with a metal spike, than to be safe and conventional and dull. Ecc, ecc, equus! Naaaaaaay! (For Snoopy.) Ruff ruff ruff!

BRUCE: So you think I should put in another ad?

CHARLOTTE: Yes I do. But this time, we need an ad that will get someone exceptional, someone who can appreciate your uniqueness.

BRUCE: In what ways am I unique? (Sort of pleased.)

CHARLOTTE: Oh I don’t know, the usual ways. Now let’s see. (Writing on pad.) White male, 30 to 35, 6’2”, no – 6’5”, green eyes, Pulitzer Prize-winning author, into Kierkegaard, Mahler, Joan Didion, and sex, seeks similar-minded attractive female for unique encounters. Sense of humor a must. Write box whatever whatever. There, that should catch you someone excellent. Why don’t you take this out to the office, and my dirigible will type it up for you. I don’t mean dirigible, I mean Saskatchewan.

BRUCE: Secretary.

CHARLOTTE: Yes, that’s what I mean.

BRUCE: You know, we haven’t mentioned how my putting these ads in the paper for women is making Bob feel. He’s real hostile about it.

CHARLOTTE: Who’s Bob?

BRUCE: He’s the guy I’ve been living with for a year.

CHARLOTTE: Bob. Oh dear. I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else for this whole session. You’re not Thomas Norton?

BRUCE: No, I’m Bruce Lathrop.

CHARLOTTE: Oh yes. Bruce and Bob. It all comes back now. Well I’m very sorry. But this is a good ad anyway, I think, so just bring it out to my dirigible, and then come on back in and we’ll talk about something else for a while. I know, I mean secretary. Sometimes I think I should get my blood sugar checked.

BRUCE: Alright, thank you, Mrs. Wallace.

CHARLOTTE: See you next week.

BRUCE: I thought you wanted me to come right back to finish the session.

CHARLOTTE: Oh yes, see you in a few minutes.

(He exits. CHARLOTTE speaks into intercom.)

Marcia, dear, send in the next porpoise please. Wait, I don’t mean porpoise, I mean . . . pony, Pekinese, parka penis, no not that. I’m sorry, Marcia, I’ll buzz back when I think of it. (She moves her lips, trying to remember. Lights dim.)

Characters