Here is my next short play draft for my latest assignment for school. It was inspired by a very theatrically constructed episode of Frasier called "Dinner Party," which I always thought would make a good play. In my effort to keep it "inspired by" as opposed to "shamelessly ripping off of" that episode, I did not rewatch it while writing and tried to just capture the spirit of it. I'm not sure I succeeded. As it is, the piece is rough and needs polish. It's not very funny yet; I'll need to touch up all the jokes. But I think it has good bones and can be whipped into shape with some work. As it is, here is the early, awkward first draft.
JUST SO
(Two women, fussily dressed, drink tea in an elegant, old-fashioned sitting room. The remains of lunch lay on a sideboard. There are two telephones, one on either side of the stage, on end tables. BELINDA abruptly strikes a pose as if inspired.)
BELINDA: Estella, my dear?
ESTELLA: Yes, Belinda, my friend?
BELINDA: I am struck with an idea.
ESTELLA: Tell me.
BELINDA: I am inspired with the notion that you and I must put on a play.
ESTELLA: A play, you say.
BELINDA: I do. King Lear, I believe, is due for a sensitive treatment as only our exquisite discernment and taste can provide.
ESTELLA: Wonderful! And I know just what our piece will look like. Nothing will convey oppression and isolation like the stodgy gloom of nineteenth century Europe!
BELINDA: I beg your pardon? You know very well I’ve always wanted to do King Lear in the style of Noh theater!
ESTELLA: I’m sure you’ll get your wish, and it will be no theater.
(BELINDA pulls the small table between them and begins clearing off the remains of lunch. ESTELLA fetches paper and pens.)
BELINDA: Of course, of course, you’re so very clever. I’ll teach you better later. But now to my favorite part of the directing process—
(She gestures broadly with the wine bottle from lunch.)
ESTELLA: Drinking?
BELINDA: No, silly! Casting! There will come plenty of time for drinking when we actually have actors to deal with. Of course we’ll only want to give our parts to the most talented—
ESTELLA: Wait, Belinda, no— we can’t simply hand out the roles with no formal tryout procedure!
BELINDA: Oh, my, you’re right. They’ll say we played favorites!
ESTELLA: They’ll doubt out artistic integrity!
BELINDA: We simply owe it to our reputations to cast this show only after a fair and impartial audition process!
ESTELLA: Just so!
(The two sit, and look at each other uncomfortably a moment. Then they can’t take it anymore and spring back up.)
BELINDA: But if we were to ask them to audition…
ESTELLA: Just to extend the opportunity…
BELINDA: While sticking to a stern standard of directorial objectivity…
ESTELLA: Well, of course that would be all right!
BELINDA: Wonderful! Ah, Estella, what would I do without the guidance of your unfailing moral compass?
ESTELLA: Someone must mind these things, my friend.
BELINDA: I’m sure you can guess who is first on my list. The great…
ESTELLA: The talented…
BELINDA: The one and only…
BOTH: Maurice St. Lefou!
BELINDA: Ah, of course he is the right man!
ESTELLA: Wouldn’t he look handsome beneath the warm glow of a gas street lamp?
BELINDA: We are doing it Kabuki-style, Estella. Of course, you do bring up a good point about setting the proper ambience.
ESTELLA: Of course we’ll have to find the right set designer.
BELINDA: I will not have another catastrophe like they had for Merritt Pickford’s production of Antigone.
ESTELLA: Oh, where their designer heard Greece and gave them a set for a sock hop?
BELINDA: Just so! We must find someone reliable! What was his name again?
ESTELLA: Carver Winthrop, ha! I would not go to him if I were desperate.
BELINDA: But one thing at a time. Casting first!
ESTELLA: Indeed. We’ll need more than just Maurice to fill out this show.
BELINDA: Much as I enjoyed his one-man production of Lysistrata, I don’t think we should go in that direction.
ESTELLA: Well, I know I’d love to encourage that good-looking Roderick Tumbler to come out for the show.
BELINDA: My God, Belinda, the man is tougher to understand than a translated Japanese laundry soap ad! My first thought was that bright young up-and-coming Eleanor Hawking.
ESTELLA: The one with the voice like the dying parakeet? You’d rather listen to her?
BELINDA: I disagree!
ESTELLA: I disagree with your disagreement!
BELINDA: Well, who gets final word?
ESTELLA: Let’s make a deal. Each of us will get three vetoes that neither one may bar!
BELINDA: Agreed. So… if not Miss Hawking, what about the clever and talented Roland Prescott? His Touchstone touched us all.
ESTELLA: Oh, heavens, no.
BELINDA: Why ever not?
ESTELLA: No, no, you may not dissect the reasoning behind the veto, you must simply abide by it!
BELINDA: Fine then. How about—
ESTELLA: Mina Hornsby?
BELINDA: The harpy with just the one eyebrow? Veto!
ESTELLA: The charming Chandler Van Pelt?
BELINDA: The troll with just the one nostril? Sweet Jesus, veto! Why, I’d take anyone over those talentless hacks— wait one minute! You’re throwing all those bozos at me so your little pets will look better by comparison! I’m on to your little game!
ESTELLA: Oh, blast you. Very well, tell you what, if you let me have Tumbler then I’ll let you keep Hawking.
BELINDA: Mumbling Tumbler!?
ESTELLA: Squawking Hawking!
BELINDA: You would dicker over warm bodies for our show like sheep at market?
ESTELLA: I’ll throw in that ghoulish Roland Prescott!
BELINDA: Deal! Oh, I can’t wait any longer, I simply must tell Maurice!
ESTELLA: Go forth and Godspeed!
(BELINDA goes to one phone and calls.)
BELINDA: Hello? The most vibrant and talented actor onstage, please. Oh, of course, darling! It’s Belinda. How would you like to come out and audition for a little piece that Estella and I are planning on putting on? I’m sure there’s a lead it in for you! Yes? Yes? Oh, wonderful! Oh, yes, of course. I couldn't be more pleased. No, of course you can call me back later, we'll talk about the details then! Ciao!
(She hangs up.)
BELINDA: That was Maurice.
ESTELLA: And?
BELINDA: He says he’d be delighted to take the role—
ESTELLA: Triumph!
BELINDA: —provided we find a place for his new paramour as well.
ESTELLA: For goodness sake! That mewling china doll girl Glinda with the voice that can shatter glass?
BELINDA: Oh, she's not that bad! She managed to win that role singing in Candide!
ESTELLA: Oh, yes, the audience was candide as well. There's nothing more candide than a barrage of thrown tomatoes! They're still scrubbing the stains off that proscenium.
BELINDA: Oh, don't worry, we'll just paint her up like a Japanese noblewoman and tell her it's very in character to fade into the background!
ESTELLA: That won't work for the European nineteenth century!
BELINDA: I told you that’s not what we agreed! At any rate, we have Maurice, he'll make up for the rest.
ESTELLA: That he will. But you’ve got me all worked up about designers now. Whoever shall we get?
BELINDA: Well, Wharton Spill would be my first choice. He once built Charlotte Woolley an elaborate castle of Elsinore entirely out of fondant and sugar cubes.
ESTELLA: Impressive! I’ll give him a call.
BELINDA: But by this time of year anybody’s who’s anybody is usually booked up. Whatever shall we do if we can’t get him?
ESTELLA: Carver Winthrop might be available.
BELINDA: I thought we wouldn’t go to him unless we were desperate.
ESTELLA: We’re not desperate, we’re pragmatic.
BELINDA: All right, then. Did he beat the code violations?
ESTELLA: Well, he got his license back somehow. And they’ve finally stopped cracking all those jokes about the time Mimsy Washburn fell through the floor.
BELINDA: Oh, you can’t put all the blame on Carver. Have you seen Mimsy? Even Wharton’s floorboards never stood a chance.
ESTELLA: Hmm.
(As ESTELLA calls, the second phone rings.)
BELINDA: That’s Maurice!
(She runs to answer the ringing phone.)
ESTELLA: I’ve got Wharton!
BOTH: (Into phones) Hello? Hello, darling!
ESTELLA: Might you have room for one more show?
BELINDA: Oh, it promises to be absolutely genius, you’re going to love it.
ESTELLA: You’re the only man who can properly capture the essence of the European nineteenth century!
BELINDA: Yes, we shall be doing it in the time-honored tradition of Japanese Noh!
ESTELLA: (To BELINDA) Wait, what are you telling Maurice?
BELINDA: (To ESTELLA, at the same time) Wait, what are you telling Wharton?
(There is a brief pause, then they talk into their phones again.)
ESTELLA: No, no, no, darling, no one said Maurice!
BELINDA: No, darling, nobody's talking about Wharton!
ESTELLA: It was... Patrice! An elderly aunt Patrice who wanted to invest in the show!
BELINDA: You heard Morton! You know that lovely older gentleman Morton who manages the house?
ESTELLA: No, no, no, don’t get upset!
BELINDA: (At the same time) No need to get so worked up!
BOTH: (To each other) Not such a darling all of a sudden! (Then into their phones) What? Not you, darling, him, darling!
(They talk hysterically over each other into their respective phones, until at they same time they are abruptly cut off by dial tones. Sadly they hang up their receivers and sit on the couch side by side.)
ESTELLA: Apparently they can’t stand each other.
BELINDA: Yes, I gathered that.
ESTELLA: They quarreled beyond reconcile when Maurice compared Wharton's scenic painting to the pancake on an aging whore.
BELINDA: And no actor much likes Wharton's view on what he calls "those roving bleating set pieces."
ESTELLA: And to top it all off, Wharton hates the nineteenth century.
BELINDA: Maurice hates Noh theater.
ESTELLA: Almost as much as they hate each other. At least we don’t have to find a part for that Glinda girl.
BELINDA: But now we’ve got no vision, no designer, and no star. What are we to do?
(Pause.)
ESTELLA: I hear Mimsy Washburn’s legs have healed.
BELINDA: She could do it as a breech role. Might as well make use of that wretched little beard.
(Pause.)
BELINDA: Estella, I’m struck with an idea.
ESTELLA: Tell me.
BELINDA: Let’s not direct a play.
ESTELLA: Not direct, you say.
BELINDA: I do. We will leave such things to the strutting, crowing cocks-o’-the-walk. Instead we will confine our talents to making commentary and separating the wheat from the chaff!
ESTELLA: It takes a special intellect to critique. This is the contribution we should share with the world! It would be a crime if we did not!
BELINDA: Just so!
ESTELLA: Us, directing a play-- ha!
BELINDA: Indeed! Honestly, Estella, where do you get these crazy ideas?
BELINDA: Indeed! Honestly, Estella, where do you get these crazy ideas?
THE END
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