Throughout my conceptual devising process I have collected my thoughts, feelings and expressions on what ideas or potential working scripts I have devised in order to create and elaborate on elements for content within my show.
Solo Performance: Draft Script. (11/03/2016.).
A side plate of cheese.
The stage is bare apart from a lone figure hunched in a ball on the ground, he is dressed in simple grey clothing and should allow the imagery of a small mouse complete with ears and tail. Projected on the back wall is a montage of violent generic cartoons. These should be silent and repeat throughout the first monologue. Center stage is a large bed, fitted with overflowing sheets and all manner of objects one would associate with night-time procrastination. The cartoon Imagery behind the actor should be fast and distracting and exemplify cliche cartoon-violence. (Almost over-bearing dwarfing the actor on stage.).
The figure looks up and dashes forward grabbing a small piece of cheese that is just out of his reach. There is an animalistic quality to this.
Where do we start?
He looks around takes a deep-breath wipes his face and then speaks.
Here… No there.
The actor dashes backwards and forwards and leaps on the bed. Taking a moment he/she wraps himself in the over-flowing sheets almost completely obscuring his image. (Sounds around him begin, they echo unloving muttering and directly ask the actor on stage obscure questions.)The actor look furiously left and right searching for a source of the noise, there is none around. .
The sounds of the cartoon violence steadily grows louder to an almost deafening point.
Silence.
The images continue to play.
During this the actor eyes closed slowly gathers the sheets around him and grows to his full height, he is serious, no emotion is shown, they stare forwards caught in their own imagination almost in a trance.
Slow melodic-music begins almost vague and unimportant.
Metamorphosis: Metamorphosis Two.
Taking a step forwards they stand on the edge of the bed, almost as if they were about to fall a great height. The lights above change to a deep almost peaceful night-sky blue. The actor slowly outstretches their arms and softly billows the sheets around their back, like they were flying through the clouds.
Beat.
The music comes to an abrupt stop.
No…
Beat. The actor’s eyes open and the lights slowly fade to black. During this the actor sits at the end of the bed. They are small, almost invisible. (The animalistic quality’s return.). They shine a light from a torch on their face, and begin to talk.
Sometimes when I’m alone I think, I just think…
I look around my room, and I look at all the objects, all the things.
My things, my possessions…
There’s the globe, there’s my bed and there is a lamp.
It’s funny… I sometimes use my hands, make shadows…
Things don’t seem that lonely anymore.
I’m getting older now. Things are changing, I’m changing, developing.
There’s moments though, when I look out the window and see people
Walking, passing by.
Going forwards and backwards
FORWARDS AND BACKWARDS.
FORWARDS AND BACKWARDS.
Beat.
I’d like to be one of those people, I imagine it. I think, I think what I would do if I was
Going…
FORWARDS AND BACKWARDS, FORWARDS AND BACKWARDS.
But I’m not, I’m in my room. I’m alone…
BUT I’M NOT ALONE!
Because there are people here, you see?
There are things, there are things that I can do things that I can see.
It’s strange…
I don’t remember; Friends, friends…
I’ve, I’ve never had many friends… I… I don’t know… They all disappear.
Strange… I’m not sure what I am trying to say… I’m just when I think out loud, things, things help.
Like… like THE WORLD
I look at the world, and it’s turning every day, every day its turning.
And there are so many people. So many people and there alone.
And I’m alone. But we are not together… I don’t know.
Beat.
And when its night, and I’m staring forward… Just staring.
Sometimes people say being alone is good, its good for the imagination, it helps you think.
Beat
But I’m always thinking… I don’t sleep. Just stare… Forwards. Into the dark, things around me they appear so small…
Beat.
I like cheese… I’ve always liked cheese.
It gives you nightmares people say. I DON’T THINK IT GIVES ME NIGHTMARES.
I think it helps.
I think Red-Leicester, no… no Gorgonzola, Nah I don’t like Gorgonzola err… Portsalut… I like Portsalut. It’s a French cheese, it’s got fruit… It’s nice. I think when I was a kid I used to eat, dairy-lea-dunkers I don’t eat those any more.
Apparently they are really bad for you… I don’t know everything these days is really bad for you…
Its strange though. I just… Sometimes I think about being small.
Almost invisible.
I just sit and look and I feel better.
But then there is a knock on my door and I’m back… I’m back in the world, scary world… there is people, and I can hear the noises. Music, sounds, lights…
I’m not sure.
This first script titled A Side Plate Of Cheese was the result of my original idea of constructing a performance, centered around a bedroom setting; Arguably one if not the most intimate location we can reveal to someone. I originally intended to be dressed as a mouse as stated above and, create a sense of scale and fear, but also vulnerability through my portrayal of myself behind the safety of a caricature of this character Mouse, I have created as a metaphorical mask from which to hide behind. The script itself was originally a workshop of ideas and thoughts that I had devised while trying to create a sense of urgency in my performance through audio-recording myself.
However due to WordPress having a file restriction I was unable to upload it. I shall however at a further date try.
Things Don’t Always Go Bump In The Night.
So many places. Childhood…
Adulthood… Parenthood…
No… No death
This is not going to be fun.
This is not going to be joyful.
In fact I’m bored myself.
Your surroundings lie to you…
Yes there are things we associate with happiness, toys, food, and love.
You’re all too clever for me, and I really tried.
I want you to know this.
Takes a brief moment, places their tale in their hands and swings it round and round.
Do not have that, it is not mine to give to you. This is me, this is who I am.
I am real and I will have my say.
Yes I’m dressed like a mouse, it’s weird to see this right… Yes I even have a tail and ears. The complete package. However I am trapped. This whole setting/scenery/ visuals is a metaphor of me.
Some of you may understand, some of you may not.
I am not Mickey Mouse, no… no. He was owned by a tyrant a war-lord… I am owned by no one, and no one shall miss me.
Funnily enough, no one shall miss you… Well at least for ten to twelve minuets.
In this show, can I call It a show there is no voice from you, you are not needed but you are wanted. I want you to watch, listen laugh… be yourself. You are not tied no normal theatricality.
You are you and I am me all be it a heightened version… Ask the person next to you do they understand.
If not they should leave.
I’m hoping no one leaves, it was hard enough to get an audience as it was.
That was a joke, yes a terrible joke.
Feel free to laugh, it’s better than crying.
Solo Influence.
The Critics / Critics at large.
The fine art of giving offence.
“It is important to recognize that such gossip is not just a verbal form of “gratuitous violence”. It is not pointless or unnecessary, but in fact has a perfectly reasonable purpose, and clear social benefits… Negative gossip also promotes social bonding between to gossipers. By criticizing someone else, we are affirming the values and opinions we share with each other- emphasizing what we have in common our friendships, building alliances.”
Julie Burchill.
This short script was an exercise in devising a script that briefly outlined what my intentions were, and how as a collected audience they could either hinder or influence my show through their reactions ans status. If I am honest it is a watered-down version of a more complex idea, that creates a metaphorical mask from which I as myself, and also a heightened- version of a character could exemplify the simplicity and broken facade of a theatrical setting; ultimately breaking all normal conventions. I was also inspired by the non-illusionary writings of
Objects Out There
I feel like an object.
Not an important object, an everyday object.
Gesture to floor.
Trapped
Observed.
Never really understood.
I feel like the light hidden in the fridge.
Who is it for? Do fridges even need lights?
I thought carrots made you see in the dark.
I’m trapped like the last dregs in a cup; ready to be swallowed or thrown away.
I’m like IKEA; A wasteland of wood, regret, and complex or missing instructions.
Part A does not connect to Part B, and C just fucked off with that new mahogany bedside table.
I’m a bedside table.
Take a moment.
I belong to IKEA…
My Room that’s where you will find me… My room.
I’m not alone, we are never alone when there is so many of us.
I’m like trying to explain reality T.V to an alien: The reference points just aren’t there.
Objects and maybe sky transitions.
I want to tell you something. YOU sat out there in the dark.
I want to bring you into the light… My light.
You are these objects, yes all of them, even the most useless utensil out there.
How often does that get used?
Do I even know what this does?
I’m middle aged.
Pick up random object.
Don’t panic… Words to live by. Tiss such a guide.
Bliss… lies on the other side of crushing, crushing boredom. Pay close attention to the most tedious thing you can think of […] and in waves a boredom like you’ve never known will [it] wash over you, and just about kill you.
Fuck… I’ve left one of these on I know it.
Switch in character to someone who resembles teacher or authoritative figure.
Avoidance of doing a task which needs to be accomplished: It is in itself the practice of doing more pleasurable things in place of less pleasurable ones. This is the definition of procrastination.
I’m talking to random objects in my bedroom. It not as if the kettle is going answer me back, all it does is make shit cups of tea.
Goes over and begins turning random objects on.
Each time a story is told the light spreads wider.
I was young, younger then I care to remember. I was stupid and stereo-typically naive. Like many others I was alone. The sun, I remember the sun. It was hot not burn your face hot but pleasant and I was waiting for someone, something… Impossible. I was going to see her again. She was dead… I knew that but I was going to see her again. I looked up… I always looked up. The clouds parted and I was still alone. I had always been told, on a bright day when the clouds look like crystal white ice-shards and they part, revealing a glimpse into the sky’s beyond… I would see her. I…
Objects. They all have warranties.
No one expects a toaster to explode.
Except when it is placed in running water or a bath.
Or a whisk to break mid use.
However we know no matter the price tag…
Things eventually break.
The light spreads a little wider.
This script is very personal to me, yes it has a simple tone however beyond this is a secret of my own life. Now I know I’m supposed to avoid creating a very personal feel, however to approach the subject of loneliness and procrastination I deeply felt I had to create an easy-going atmosphere and reveal a very intimate part of myself. I have set my show within the domestic setting of the very real and intimate space of a bedroom setting, as often this is when we can feel the most alone or together the one we love. In a very real sense it is a perfect metaphor of a simple room being a simple human quality in which we are all flawed. I also think the idea of simplicity is key, as honestly how do you make domestic objects like hot-water bottles, blankets, pillows and random domestic objects appear important or relevant when making simple jokes about yourself and your surroundings.
Approaching this from a sarcastic and comedic point of view this allows me the choice to either approach the audience in an easy manner, or a more approachable one creating a very real sense of relationship between myself as a heightened actor and, also myself. I was also inspired by the simplicity of Spalding Grey who with the use of mere props, seated behind his simple wooden table reinvented the complex simplicity of a intimate solo performance. I was also impressed and equally intimidated by his complex and dense subject matter in which he dealt with diverse and often taboo topics, in a comedic yet human way. This is something I hope to briefly touch on within my own show. Grey discovered and utilized serious subject matters to the uninformed in a complex narrative that would have you laughing one moment and crying the next, it esence it was dense, fast, and very unforgiving.