THEATER PLAYS

DIRECTOR: OK. Let’s not waste any more time talking. As they say in the theater, you’re on.

Pause. WOMAN obviously doesn’t know what to do.

So why are you standing there like a pillar of salt?

WOMAN: You didn’t tell me what to do.

DIRECTOR: First of all, step forward and face the audience.

WOMAN doesn’t move.

Well? What’s the problem now?

WOMAN: I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk.

DIRECTOR: You don’t know how to walk? Do you need to be taught that too?

WOMAN: I meant, quickly and energetically or the opposite – slowly?

DIRECTOR: Of course slowly. Do what Stanislavsky – he was a theatrical genius, you know – said, and let yourself sense what’s needed. Meaning that it all has to be done slowly and sadly.

WOMAN: Where’s the audience?

DIRECTOR: The audience is me.

WOMAN goes to stage center and again stands silent.

You have a rare gift, dearie. I love silent women, but silence isn’t always golden. Begin, before we’re too old to care!

WOMAN: One minute… (quickly trots back to her purse, opens it, takes out some sheets of paper, unfolds them, and again returns, slowly and sadly, to stage center.)

DIRECTOR: What’s that?

WOMAN: (guilty) My lines.

DIRECTOR: (exploding) What? You haven’t learned your lines yet? You undisciplined, disorganized… I refuse to work with you! Are you going to speak from a script tomorrow?

WOMAN: What if I do? We all speak from scripts.

DIRECTOR: That’s what you do. With me, you’ll speak without one, or we’re done. Your words should be born of feeling, not from a cheat sheet.

The seated MAN hurriedly takes some pages out of his pocket and starts learning his lines.

WOMAN: I’ll have it down by tomorrow.

DIRECTOR: And you think I believe you? Are you even capable of learning anything, never mind (mimicking her) “by tomorrow”?

WOMAN: I give you my word.

DIRECTOR: Oh, all right. Use the cheat sheet for now. (mocking) You can read, can’t you?

WOMAN opts not to react. She finds the right page and reads.

WOMAN: (cheerfully) Dear friend!

DIRECTOR: Stop!

WOMAN: What?

DIRECTOR: That’s how you tell someone happy birthday. You have to make your face and whole body mournful. Slow movements, shoulders lowered, arms dangling, disobedient lips pronouncing the words with difficulty. Get that?

WOMAN: Yes. (tries to speak sadly) Dear friend! (hitches up the bra strap that has just slid off her shoulder)

DIRECTOR: No, you’re not getting the mournful look. And how can you when your front’s open almost down to your waist, and your legs are on view up to… Well, I’d best not say up to where. How did you wind up here dressed like this?

WOMAN: The thing is, when I got the call to come here, I was… How can I put it?.. At a small party.

DIRECTOR: And you, of course, got a little bombed there.

WOMAN: A little.

DIRECTOR: And you were apparently so rushed, you left some of your clothes behind.

WOMAN: That’s not funny.

DIRECTOR: It’s very sad. But then you tried to assure me that you were late because you were very busy.

WOMAN: I’m entitled to have fun now and then. How did I know I was going to get an urgent call?

DIRECTOR: (gives WOMAN another critical once-over) There’ll be no extracting the correct intonation from you like this.

WOMAN: I’ve got the costume downstairs, in the car. Maybe I should go and do a quick change?

DIRECTOR: Wait, let me think… (eyes WOMAN closely) You still look… pretty good… And without clothes probably even better than fully dressed… Yes, perhaps we’ll shoot you without clothes.

WOMAN: On television?

DIRECTOR: No, first we’ll take your clothes off. And then we’ll tape you without them.

WOMAN: I don’t understand. You want me to perform in the nude?

DIRECTOR: Do you call this dressed?

WOMAN: (frightened) But I can’t appear in public without a stitch on.

DIRECTOR: Why not? First, you’ll look more decent that way than you do half-naked. Secondly, it’s just not a show these days unless somebody’s in the buff.

WOMAN: (frightened) You seriously want to undress me?