Olivia Farmer - Queen of All Drama by Robert Armstrong
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This Play is the copyright of the Author and may not be performed, copied or sold without the Author's prior consent
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
IN DARKNESS, SEVERAL BARS OF THE SONG "ALL OF ME."
FROM A DISTANCE, WE HEAR THE VOICE OF -
ANNOUNCER 1 (offstage) ... and the award for Best Teen Performance
for the Internet, Reality TV or a Mobile Device goes to ... Trini
Doheny for "Days of Crack and Carnations"!
APPLAUSE.
THIS GETS LOUDER AS A SIDE DOOR OPENS. A SLAB OF YELLOW LIGHT COMES
THROUGH AND A WOMAN STEPS INTO IT. SHE IS OLIVIA FARMER, AN
ATTRACTIVE ACTRESS OF A CERTAIN AGE. AS THE DOOR CLOSES -
LIGHTS COME UP ON OLIVIA, WHO WEARS AN EVENING DRESS, HIGH HEELS,
CARRIES A SMART BAG AND HAS A MOBILE PHONE PRESSED TO HER EAR. SHE
WALKS ABOUT ANXIOUSLY.
OLIVIA (into phone) Max Max Lazarus? Max! Finally! Olivia
Farmer - remember me? Your client. I've been trying to get you
since—-where do you think I am? At the Asinine Freaking Idiot
awards - outside, having a fix.
FISHING A CIGARETTE OUT OF HER BAG, SHE LIGHTS IT.
OLIVIA How is it? A disaster, of course! So far, the oldest winner
has been twenty-seven. I wish they'd all bugger off and join the
Twenty-seven Club! Christ. I didn't want to come. What is it in
this business, Max? Men can get fat as Brando or go crazy as Andy
Kaufman, and they work. But the second a woman hits thirty-five,
she's relegated to bland young-mum roles or marking time till
she's old enough for an adult-diaper commercial. And that crazy
woman from NASA who drove cross-country for two days while wearing
Pampers will probably get that.
It's wrong, Max. There is something rotten in—-Yes, I know
there's Sharon Stone and Diane Lane, Judi Dench and Judy Davis - but
she fell in with Woody Allen and she's great at neurotics. Did you
see “Deconstructing Harry”? Or “Husbands &Wives”? Well, they're
out on DVD.
Magnificent work. But even that was years ago, last century, in
fact—-Sorry, my darling, am I keeping you from holding some young
man's hand—-or handle? Well, it is Saturday night!
Anyhow, the reason I'm calling, Max, my darling, is this -
I'm sick of the twenty-somethings ruling the roost, and I'm sick
of playing "mature" psycho secretaries, now that I'm almost twice
as old as Dakota Fanning. Last time you said you'd found me a
pilot, you introduced me to a guy who works for Virgin Blue! And what
about that TV role - something different, you said - a transvestite
rapist on “HomoCide”! It did make people look at me differently -
especially casting agents, while crossing the street to avoid me!
No, Max-Max-Maximus, I want something just for me - a play.
Yes, dearest heart, you heard correctly, I'm going back on the
boards! It's where I did my training, back in the Jurassic period,
if London had such a thing. Anyway, before the Romans got there. I
want a vehicle, Max, and I don't mean a chariot or a pimped-out
Prius. No chestnuts or classics - nothing sappy or depressing. No
Simon or Strindberg. Did you see what happened to the revival of
“Virginia Woolf”? Great play, but the critics killed it. The
expectations for a golden oldie are just too high. Everyone's
sitting in the front row on opening night with their knives out and
scripts open. Brutal.
What I want, beloved, is more like that thing Maggie Smith
toured in a few years back. Something new. Preferably by an
inexperienced writer - someone I can push around if needs be. And
what's better than a new writer with a new play? Wait, wait - only
one thing - lots of new plays! Yes! Isn't it divine? I'm just
thinking of this now it's what I need - an evening of short
plays - starring Olivia Farmer!
No, not monologues - who wants to pay good money to watch some
poor soul rabbiting on about their miserable childhood or life in the
circus, etcetera?
Well, your mother's an idiot, Max. I mean that nicely. Kisses. I
want something that can show my range. Drama, comedy - dramedy.
Maybe a monologue here and there for variety; I can play a sexy
neurotic - an hilarious eighty-year-old an ambushing reporter.
I'm an onion, Max, waiting to be peeled! Yes, of course in public.
Where else? There's no point emoting if there's no one to watch!
You will get busy on that now, won't you, my sweet? Are we
agreed, Maxim? Small cast, basic sets, suitable for touring - and get
me a couple of blokes I can bang on the road. And to show I'm not a
total diva, an actress too. Not to bang! To act with. The kind
who'd be grateful to work with me, not try to steal the limelight.
No “All About Eve” types.
SHE TAKES A FINAL PUFF ON HER CIGARETTE, DROPS IT, GRINDS IT OUT. THE
DOOR OPENS, UNSEEN BY OLIVIA. A WOMAN STANDS IN SILHOUETTE.
OLIVIA Well, better get back inside. Who knows when they'll get to
my category - Best Actress Who Started Her Career on Noah's Ark and
Isn't Yet Using a Zimmer Frame! I'll do my best not to slap
anyone. Yes, Max, love you too. Give my best to whoever you're
dating - and fellating - ciao, bello!
AS SHE HANGS UP THE PHONE AND TURNS AROUND, THE OTHER WOMAN LETS THE
DOOR CLOSE AND WALKS TOWARD OLIVIA.
WOMAN Hi.
OLIVIA Hey.
SHE CONTINUES TOWARD THE DOOR.
WOMAN Olivia?
OLIVIA (turning) Yes?
WOMAN You are Olivia Farmer.
OLIVIA I'm glad someone remembers me. Don't tell me you want an
autograph?
SHE REACHES INTO HER BAG FOR A PEN.
WOMAN Are you finding tonight as depressing as me?
OLIVIA I don't know. How depressing are you?
WOMAN We worked together once. Alice Watson. Remember?
OLIVIA Oh ... yes. That was in the ...
ALICE Kids' TV show “On Golden Wand”.
OLIVIA I played a guest witch on a total of one episode, yes.
ALICE And I was a recurring fairy.
OLIVIA You weren't the only one. Remember that producer?
ALICE Barely. That was ages ago.
OLIVIA A lifetime. Don't remind me!
ALICE So ... what are you up to now?
OLIVIA Oh, just probably putting ... a showcase together. Small
cast, simple sets, suitable for touring - if that doesn't sound too
desperate.
ALICE No, no, so sounds like you're ... taking charge ...
still at the planning stage, is it? Is there possibly ... anything in
it ... for me?
OLIVIA It's early days. But you're right I need to take
charge of my career or become the invisible woman. I'm sick of
playing increasingly small roles for peanuts. It's all about me,
for the time being - I'm afraid it has to be. But I will be looking
for an assistant.
ALICE Like a co-star?
OLIVIA Like a PA.
SHE STARTS BACK TOWARD THE DOOR, OPENS IT.
ALICE I was thinking maybe ... an acting role?
OLIVIA Sure, for someone who wants to play a gofer. I've gotta
get back. But call Max Lazarus in a couple of weeks when things are
more organised. I'll let you know how it's shaping up, if
you're still interested.
THE DOOR CLOSES. OLIVIA IS GONE. THE LIGHTS QUICKLY FADE.
ALICE Still interested? You had me at peanuts.
SCENE TWO
OLIVIA'S LIVING ROOM A COUCH, A TABLE AND LAMP WOULD BE ENOUGH
TO SUGGEST IT; NOTHING GRAND. OLVIA IS ON THE COUCH LEAFING THROUGH
TYPED PAGES WHICH SHE REFERS TO IN THE LAMPLIGHT, THE PHONE TO HER
EAR.
OLIVIA (into phone) Max - Max! Finally! He gets it. This
what's his name? William Pepper. Sounds like a condiment.
Where did you find him? Never mind. He's talented and he remembers
me from “On Golden Wand,” which is amazing, since I only guest-starred
in one ep. Anyway, what he's done I love so far. But it has to
be a showcase it has to build or maybe unravel in any
case, it has to show my full range, going from drama to farce and
anything in between. What's in between? Whimsical. But not fey.
Or tragic. I wanna leave the audience in a good mood, not gasping
because some bipolar junkie's killed her baby, or that ex-soap-star
Regina Morris is living in somebody's garage like Fonzie and begging
for spare change although, in her case, that may be true. Or not.
Don't wanna get sued. Anyway, tell Will Pepper if he keeps going
like this, I'll make him a star billed just slightly below me
... but a star nonetheless - if writers ever can be stars.
Tomorrow, I'm going to check out the theatre. Didn't I tell
you, sweetums? The Alhambra. Of course it's a dump. Almost
falling down. But some friend of the Trumps bought it for a song, and
they're planning a big opening in a few months which is when
we'll be back from tour. Serendipity. It'll be a relaunch for
two old ruins The Alhambra and me! No, I'm not going in there
alone the rats might get me I'm going with my PA. Alice
Watson. The one who called you trying not to seem too eager.
Ironically, she was the star of “On Golden Wand” but don't
mention that to Pepper he might be harbouring a schoolboy crush
and want to write a showcase for her. Mum's the word, Maxie. That
boy is mine. Kisses!
AS SHE HANGS UP
BLACKOUT.
SCENE THREE
IN DARKNESS, THE BEAM OF A TORCH. FOOTSTEPS. LIGHTS FADE UP TO HALF
ON THE BARE STAGE OF THE DECREPIT ALHAMBRA THEATRE. WE DON'T SEE
MUCH, BUT CAN HEAR DRIPPING WATER AND WIND BLOWING THROUGH CRACKED
WALLS.
LIGHTS COME UP, REMAINING TIGHT ON OLIVIA AND ALICE, AS THEY ENTER,
WEARING HARDHATS. OLIVIA WEARS JEANS AND A T-SHIRT THAT READS:
"MAFIA MOLL." EACH HAS ON A FLOPPY FLUORESCENT VEST. THEY CROSS
THE STAGE WARILY, STOP, PEERING INTO SHADOWS.
OLIVIA This is it. What do you think?
ALICE Ew.
OLIVIA Ew, pooh it's great!
ALICE Are we in the same dream?
OLIVIA No, Toto, I'm in the future. We've been on the road for a
couple of months, getting the show right, and we open here to great
fanfare at ... The Alhambra!
ALICE It looks like the kind of place Sam Vicente's goons would
take their gangland enemies, never to be seen again.
OLIVIA Don't be so dramatic. Sam Vicente was found innocent.
ALICE He was found "not guilty." That's not necessarily
innocent. But you're wearing a "mafia moll" T-shirt, so maybe
I shouldn't act surprised?
[end of extract]
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