Ada,
laughing through tears, has just hit the rewind button on the
VCR. She has
to do this manually because the remote has been missing for months. The movie,
While You Were Sleeping, is now being rewound
in preparation
for the second viewing. On this video there is currently an $80 late fee from
Videology.
Ada turns from the TV and goes
to sit back on the golden sofa next to Trish, but on her half (they had bought
it in two parts, and they each owned half). It was the only thing they owned
aside from the VCR.
Ada: Wow… That… Last…
Trish: Yeah.
(Her voice breaks and she stops.)
Trish: I know.
(She says this like someone who’s
seen Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind too many times and is confused how
now, after watching the seemingly much lesser While You Were Sleeping, she
could find compassion, and even be happy, for the drippy, lying Sandra Bullock
character – because this is what has happened.)
Trish:
I don’t care that he’s in
a coma the whole time. Larry Levy’s the true star of this movie.
Did you see him in The Player?
Did you see him in The Player?
Ada: Yes, with you –
Trish: That
scene? The one where he’s at a table in
the restaurant, an outside table, round I think, and it’s not even in the
foreground of the shot, but it’s like buried a bit in the back so the viewer –
Ada: Us –
Trish: –
so we have to search out where the hell we’re looking and he’s sitting there
and talking to the person next to him and all that and the waiter walks by and
he says something like:“Excuse
me waiter sir, this water is in a red wine glass dear waiter. I’d
like my water in a WATER glass, please
waiter?”
and
I was like HOLY SHIT and that’s what I thought LA was all about for the longest
time.
(This actually was what she
thought LA was like for the longest time.)
That
people just did shit like that in LA all the time, whenever they were out or
something. That one moment in that
Robert Altman movie did all that. I digress – anyway, Peter Gallagher, I like to call him Larry Levy. Since that’s who he played in The Player.
(Ada notices a giant water bug
on a far wall. She pretends it’s not there. It’s just one.)
He
wasn’t in that one scene with the water but it didn’t matter.
Ada: Totally. That was Tim Robbins.
Trish: (Super satisfied) Larry Levy!
Ada: (Sing-songy) La-rrrrry Le-vvvvy.
Trish: What
was wrong with the 90s?! That cursive font and movies set in Chicago all the time?
Ada: It’s
romantic, there’s nothing wrong with that. Lucy’s this hardworking normal
person that’s just confused, I totally get it.
It’s not even about Chicago –
Trish: The
city must have worked out some deal with All of
Hollywood or something.
Ada: And Bill Pullman? Sigh. Jack the furniture builder dude. “Sigh” I say.
Trish: I
mean Home Alone? Backdraft? Prelude to a Kiss? Curly Sue? Mad Dog & Glory?
Hoffa? Groundhog Day –
Ada: – I love that movie –
Trish: Yes. Home Alone 2, Dennis
the Menace, The Fugitive –
Ada: When
Bill Murray comes down the stairs in the morning for the millionth time?
Trish: – Blue Chips –
Ada: –
And that woman at the bottom of the stairs says something along the lines of
she felt she was having Déjà vu –
Trish: – Shiva’s Rain, Space Jam –
Ada: – Space Jam!
Trish: Hope fucking Floats, He
Got Game–
Ada: – and Bill Murray goes, “Didn’t
you just say that?”
Trish: Ha! “Didn’t you just say
that!”
(They laugh.)
Ada: Home Alone 3?
Trish: Yep. Never Been Kissed, High Fidelity, Return To
Me –
Ada: (Shakes her head, sighing.) Macaulay Culkin dude.
Trish: – and, my personal
favorite, The Hudsucker Proxy.
Ada: “You know, for kids.”
Trish: “You
know, for kids.”
(They clink their glasses or bottles or
whatever.)
I
really like all the non-sequiturs in the movie though, this movie –
(Gesturing towards the VCR.)
Ada: Huh?
Trish: No, think about it. Really.
Ada: What?
Trish: You know, like the part
in the scripture –
Ada: The SCRIPT. The part in the script –
Trish: The part in the script when:
LUCY GOES: Oh, and I'm *very* sorry about your carpet.
PETER GOES:
What about my carpet?
Ada: Ha!
(Pauses.)
Yeah,
that’s pretty good. Or the part where:
(They start laughing. Ada rolls off the couch and clutches her
stomach; Trish refills their wine glasses and/or Heineken bottles.)
Ada: OR what about when the:
DOORMAN GOES: You're not his fiancée.
ASHLEY GOES: Huh?
DOORMAN GOES: Huh?
Trish: Stop –
(Clutching her knees to her chest, tears
streaming down her face.)
Ada: Or:
LUCY GOES: Here kitty,
kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty. There you are.... Fluffy.
Trish: Fluffy… It’s too much... Stop.
(But Ada does NOT stop. The
movie is almost done rewinding – the tape is at a high pitch whine now.)
Ada: OR,
best one ever, when they say:
LUCY GOES: You don't have to walk me home.
JACK GOES: You block the wind.
Ada knocks over her wine/beer and it
drenches the faux Oriental rug they pulled off the street
years before any bedbug scare. But they don’t care about things like wine
stains on rugs, they think they (and by ‘they’ they mean each other) are funny
so they laugh. Trish takes her glass and tosses the contents on the rug as if
dousing a bonfire. She expertly adjusts
the grip on her glass then hurls it against the wall across from them. Hooray!
The VCR tape self ejects,
scaring Trish, who doesn’t like sudden movement unless she is the source of it.
Trish: FUCK!
Ada: Dude, it’s the tape –
Trish: Scared me –
(Ada goes to get the broom, but is
within earshot because the broom is only ten feet away in the tiny apartment.)
Trish: Man, ten years from now I’ll be
emailing you from my chateau in Switzerland where I’ve fled after all those bad reviews and you’ll just have come in from
the beach, running into your kitchen with dried salt on your face and sand in
your hair, you’ve just washed all that poet ink off your hands from the day, in
the ocean, and you’re carrying this awesome surf board carved from, like, petrified
poetry books.
And
you lean it on the door frame before you go in to find the lemonade, and I’m
way over there across the world, bundled up like fucking Heidi, tucked up near
one of the prettiest Alps or something staring into the fire as I type, telling
you about the taste of chocolate in the air and how I bet you’re thinking of
that moment right at the end of the movie…
(Ada’s now sweeping up the glass, but
she’s also brought out a new one and fills it up, handing it to Trish.)
Sandra
Bullock –
(Shaking
her head.)
– so
alone in that tollbooth, everybody thinks she’s shit, that she’s a lying stupid
cunt, but with those cool fingerless gloves on, but she’s a failure and a sneak
and she’d better get used to working for the public transit system because that
is all she has in the world… and then, her Prague/Arab/Spinster Spring comes
and, as Wikipedia so concisely puts it:
“Jack places an engagement ring
in the token tray of her booth. With the entire Callaghan family watching, he
walks into her booth and proposes to her. In the last scenes of the film, they
kiss at the end of their wedding, then leave on a CTA train for their
honeymoon.”
… Or
maybe she – Sandra Bullock, not her character Lucy – is dreaming of a better role in a better movie or trying to get old lines from Speed out of her head. Or dreaming of a future moment in Miss Congeniality where she trips over
something only to right herself with more confidence than before, a better
person – a better actor – for having fallen.
Or maybe she was just sitting there filming the scene pissed off. Who knows why? Maybe she’s pissed that Bill Pullman stole
the bagel she was toasting that morning at the craft services table. I’m emailing all these things to you. From the Alps. From the fucking Alps.
Ada: It’s
like pie. It all comes down to what kind
of pie you like, and if you’re swayed by season or mood or even witches really.
Some people really like Sandra Bullock Pie, some people don’t.
(Ada reaches for a piece of paper
from under her half of the golden sofa and hands it to Trish.)
Like
this:
Trish: Oh…
(Taking
it in.)
Yeah.
Ada: Personally,
I can get behind her not only because of Practical
Magic when she activates the phone tree. She’s pretty normal. It’s easy,like liking say a banana. It’s not even about her though. This movie would suck if the entire family didn’t go with Bill Pullman to see her in that last scene. If Peter Boyle wasn’t there in the background. If that other guy that looks like Wilford Brimley, but isn’t Wilford Brimley, that plays Saul or whatever,
isn’t smiling through that huge handlebar mustache. They are all sooo excited for them. Let’s watch it again and not
throw anything this time?
Trish: Totally.
(Trish goes over and pushes the tape
back in the machine, then hits play on the VCR before returning to the golden
sofa, to her half.)
Trish Harnetiaux is a Brooklyn-based playwright whose work has been performed and developed at Soho Rep, The Cherry Lane, Dixon Place, The 13th Street Theatre, 78th Street Theatre Lab, The Ohio Theatre, and The New Jersey Rep. Her new full-length play, How to Get Into Buildings was written in the 2011/2012 Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab. She's written numerous full-length (including an adaptation of a Shirley Jackson novel) and one-act plays and is a graduate of Mac Wellman’s MFA program at Brooklyn College. She is a co-creator at Steel Drum in Space where they make tiny movies about things like unemployed astronauts, space cars and robot cats. More things can be found here trishharnetiaux.com and here steeldruminspace.com.
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