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Wendy & Peter Pan

Page 1

by Ella Hickson




  Ella Hickson

  WENDY

  & PETER PAN

  Adapted from the book by

  J.M. Barrie

  NICK HERN BOOKS

  London

  www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

  Contents

  Title Page

  Original Production

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Epigraph

  Characters

  Wendy & Peter Pan

  About the Author

  Copyright and Performing Rights Information

  Wendy & Peter Pan was first performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company in the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, on 10 December 2013. It was revived by the company in this revised version on 17 November 2015, with the following cast:

  PETER’S SHADOW

  Simon Carroll-Jones

  NIBS

  Cavan Clarke

  TOM

  Sam Clemmett

  JOHN

  James Corrigan

  HOOK

  Darrell D’Silva

  WENDY

  Mariah Gale

  MARTIN

  Adam Gillen

  SHADOW

  Susan Hingley

  SHADOW

  Jack Horner

  MRS DARLING

  Rebecca Johnson

  SMEE

  Paul Kemp

  SHADOW/DOC GILES/CROCODILE

  Arthur Kyeyune

  KNOCK BONE JONES

  David Langham

  CURLY

  Douggie McMeekin

  MICHAEL

  Jordan Metcalfe

  TINK

  Charlotte Mills

  TIGER LILY

  Mimi Ndiweni

  MURT THE BAT

  Dodger Phillips

  SHADOW

  Laura Prior

  PETER PAN

  Rhys Rusbatch

  MR DARLING/SKYLIGHTS

  Patrick Toomey

  SLIGHTLY

  Harry Waller

  TOOTLES

  Lawrence Walker

  SHADOW

  Jay Webb

  DOC SWAIN

  Dan Wheeler

  All other parts played by members of the Company.

  Director

  Jonathan Munby

  Designer

  Colin Richmond

  Lighting Designer

  Oliver Fenwick

  Music

  Olly Fox

  Orchestrations

  Jason Carr

  Sound

  Christopher Shutt

  Movement

  Michael Ashcroft

  Fights

  Terry King

  Video Designer

  Ian William Galloway

  Aerial Advisor

  Jack Horner

  Associate Director

  James Blakey

  Music Director

  Bruce O’Neil

  Casting

  Annelie Powell

  Dramaturg

  Pippa Hill

  Production Manager

  Peter Griffin

  Assistant Production Manager

  Janet Gautrey

  Costume Supervisor

  Zarah Meherali

  Company Manager

  Jondon

  Stage Manager

  Francis Lynch

  Deputy Stage Manager

  Carol Pestridge

  Assistant Stage Manager

  Emma McKie

  Producer

  Kevin Fitzmaurice

  For Elizabeth,

  May you have the best of adventures.

  Magic does exist. I promise.

  Acknowledgements

  Wendy and Peter Pan has been a truly collaborative project. In the four and a bit years of its development it has benefited hugely from the time, thought and love that have been poured into it from all those that have been involved.

  Much of what we discovered in the initial workshops laid the foundations for the show as it stands today. I owe a great debt to everyone who offered their time and ideas so generously.

  I’d like to thank the original cast for what was a hugely enjoyable and magical few months. Returning to Neverland this year with a new gang has enabled a wonderful discovery of so much I hadn’t seen before.

  The characters that are now fixed on the page are a mixture of you all and I feel hugely lucky to have been able to build Neverland around such brilliant and inventive actors.

  My time at the RSC has been very happy and enormously rewarding, I’m deeply grateful to everyone in the company for the huge amount of work that goes into a show of this scale. I’d like to thank the literary department, Pippa, Réjane and Collette, for all their time and support and Jeanie for those first conversations.

  I’d especially like to thank Jonathan Munby, who made the magic real. It’s better than I ever could have imagined. Thank you for an amazing adventure.

  Finally, I’d like to thank my family for having provided me with all I needed to know about great escapades, teatime by the fire, brilliant brothers and what it’s like to be a much-loved child.

  E.H., 2015

  Come away, O human child!

  To the waters and the wild

  With a faery, hand in hand

  For the world’s more full of weeping

  Than you can understand.

  ‘The Stolen Child’

  W. B. Yeats

  In memory of Christopher,

  and all the other lost boys and girls – play on

  Characters

  WENDY

  JOHN

  MICHAEL

  TOM

  MRS DARLING

  MR DARLING

  DOC GILES

  PETER

  TINK

  TOOTLES

  NIBS

  CURLY

  SLIGHTLY

  CAPTAIN HOOK

  SMEE

  DOC SWAIN

  KNOCK-BONE JONES

  FIRST MATE MURT THE BAT

  SKYLIGHTS

  MARTIN THE CABIN BOY

  TIGER LILY

  THE CROCODILE

  Plus SHADOWS, PIRATES

  This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.

  ACT ONE

  Scene One

  1908: the Darling children’s nursery – a winter afternoon. We can see the steeples and rooftops of London in the distance. A game of ambush is underway; the troops are in their hiding positions. JOHN, eleven, camouflaged and rather serious, has his target in his sights. MICHAEL, ten, clumsy and conflict-averse, has his hands over his teddy’s ears and TOM, six and utterly fearless, teeters on the point of action.

  JOHN (hushed). Hunker down, chaps, rifles at the ready – ‘The beasts are in the undergrowth!’

  MICHAEL. John!?

  JOHN (accompanied by selection of ridiculous hand signals). ‘The red squirrel is concealing his snout.’

  TOM. I’m not sure I understand.

  MICHAEL. Mother said we were to be downstairs by five thirty!

  JOHN. Get down!

  TOM. Michael, I’m not sure I /

  MICHAEL. / And it’s five twenty-seven and forty-three seconds!

  JOHN. On my signal, it’s going to be ‘Bye-bye, Crimea!’

  MICHAEL. Surely we could reach some sort of diplomatic solution before /

  JOHN. / Weapons at the ready!

  MICHAEL. Why must battles always be so – fighty? Why can’t we play at talking it through or agreeing nicely or shaking hands or /

  JOHN smashes MICHAEL in the face with a pillow.

  That was rather aggressive, John. I’m not sure I liked it.

  JOHN. Tom – you’re promoted to first brother.


  TOM. Wendy said we had to remember to do our homework before we played battles.

  JOHN. We’re soldiers, we’re battling, we have far more important things to be thinking about than homework.

  MICHAEL. Perhaps the soldiers are doing their homework in preparation for battle? Or… they’ve just come back and they’re all bloody and sweaty and tired and they think ‘ooh – maybe I’ll have a little rest and do a nice spot of quiet homework’?

  JOHN (booming). Back to your positions! Rifles at the ready! Target in sights! One two –

  As JOHN inhales ready to give the ‘Go!’, WENDY – twelve, scruffy-haired and big-hearted – blusters in.

  UGH.

  WENDY. John, your rugby kit is getting mouldy by the back door – Tom, come here, that button is falling off – are you playing battles? Can I play?

  JOHN. No.

  WENDY. What?

  JOHN. The answer is no.

  WENDY. Why?

  JOHN. No girls allowed on the battlefield.

  WENDY. I’m not a girl. I am a girl. Can I play? Please can I?

  JOHN. Play? This isn’t a game, this is an incredibly dangerous /

  WENDY. / Please?

  JOHN plonks WENDY in the chair and ties her up roughly.

  JOHN. Men, new objective – save the damsel before scalping the natives.

  WENDY. I just need to sew Tom’s button on.

  JOHN. Wendy, are you a damsel or are you a button-sewer?

  WENDY. I’m a damsel but /

  JOHN. / Damsels must be very very scared, then very very impressed, then very very grateful. No button-sewing necessary.

  TOM. Maybe you could do my button afterwards?

  JOHN. Don’t reveal your position!

  TOM. I wasn’t!

  MICHAEL giggles.

  JOHN. Soldiers do not giggle!

  TOM coughs.

  No coughing.

  TOM coughs.

  Insubordination! Insubordination!

  WENDY laughs.

  No giggling!

  WENDY (trying to restrain herself). Sorry – sorry – very sorry.

  JOHN. That’s it! You’re fired.

  MICHAEL (charging). Fiiiiiire! Fiiiiiire!

  TOM. Fire!!

  TOM charges. JOHN abandons control and, in a desperate plea for victory, launches himself at the bed – it’s joyous, raucous. JOHN knocks a bedside lamp and it comes crashing to the floor. All four children stop and stand, shame-faced.

  JOHN. Thomas Darling, I cannot believe you just broke Mother’s lamp.

  TOM. I didn’t break the lamp. Did I?

  JOHN. Yes.

  WENDY. John, you broke the lamp!

  JOHN picks up the lamp and goes to hide it in the drawer.

  MICHAEL. You can’t just hide it.

  TOM coughs.

  JOHN. Fine – we’ll do the proper thing – fine.

  JOHN puts the lamp on the floor and bows his head.

  In war, some men must fall; this lamp has made the greatest sacrifice, we commit this lamp to the ‘Don’t tell Mother’ drawer with great sadness. Amen.

  WENDY starts making the ‘dum dum di dum’ of a funeral march. JOHN rests the broken lamp in the ‘Don’t tell Mother’ drawer, overflowing with broken toys. MRS DARLING, out on the landing, listens in, MR DARLING surprises her – twists her round and kisses her.

  MRS DARLING. George!

  MR DARLING looks at MRS DARLING.

  MR DARLING. There’s a kiss that hides in the corner of your mouth and I can never quite get at it.

  MRS DARLING. It’s time to call our children down for tea.

  MR DARLING. You are the most delicious riddle.

  MRS DARLING enters the nursery.

  MRS DARLING. Teatime, you lot.

  The children start running for the door.

  Wait.

  WENDY, TOM and MICHAEL stop – JOHN tries to keep going.

  MR DARLING. John.

  MRS DARLING. Something is – where’s the lamp?

  JOHN. I don’t know what you mean, Mummy? What lamp?

  MR DARLING. Wendy?

  WENDY (opens her mouth and makes a funny throaty snotty sound). I can’t lie – snotfrogs come out when I try.

  MR DARLING (stern). Did you break the lamp?

  JOHN. Yes.

  MRS DARLING. Well, that’ll be three weeks of pocket money – at least.

  JOHN. No but I /

  MRS DARLING. / AND you have to talk to your father.

  JOHN hangs his head low – MR DARLING approaches, looking serious.

  MR DARLING. If you have been careless enough to break the lamp then… (Whispers.) where’s the genie?

  MRS DARLING. George?

  MR DARLING puts a lampshade on his head and does some sort of ridiculous Cossack dance.

  MR DARLING. It is wrote, the lamp is broke, a puff of smoke – then alacazam and alaberoo – I have three wishes I grant to youuu!

  The children, delighted, run at their father and hug him furiously.

  WENDY. Chocolate, books and mice!

  JOHN. Lava, scorpions and pork pies!

  MICHAEL. Plants, frogs and taffeta!

  JOHN. Michael?

  MICHAEL. What?

  JOHN. Taffeta? Urgh.

  TOM coughs.

  MRS DARLING. Tom? Are you all right?

  TOM nods.

  TOM. I’d just like cake. I can’t think of another two – once cake is in your head it’s very difficult to think of anything else.

  MRS DARLING. Well, tea’s on the table if we /

  MR DARLING (silly accent). / But listen here, my little fishes, there are only three wishes, so we must see who can stand the most…

  CHILDREN (squeal and try to escape). No – please – no!

  MR DARLING. TICKLES!!

  MR DARLING captures all the children at the same time and tickles them furiously, the children squeal and squirm; it is a picture of the happiest of families.

  MRS DARLING. Come on, cake-time! Downstairs!

  MR DARLING. Last one down to the table is a jibbering jubber-dummy!

  MICHAEL and JOHN race out of the room past MR DARLING. He turns to follow them and they exit. TOM coughs. MRS DARLING scoops him up.

  MRS DARLING. Tom, you’re not all right – you’re not all right at all; you’re burning up.

  WENDY. Tom?

  MRS DARLING. Wendy, go and tell Father to call for Dr Giles. Now!

  WENDY exits and returns and cowers to see the lights lower and the room get dark, shadows grow tall up the walls.

  DOC GILES enters. His hat is leather, suggesting eyes and nostrils perhaps, his cloak long and shiny as if recently emerged from some nearby swamp – his doctor’s case a dark-green crocodile skin, its jaws snapping open and revealing sharp instruments within. The DOC(odile) takes little TOM’s tiny arm in his and we hear the loud ‘tick-tock, tick-tock’ of his pocket watch as it is held out to mark the child’s weakening pulse.

  DOC GILES looks at MRS DARLING – it’s not good news. DOC GILES exits.

  WENDY. Mother, I need to sew his button on.

  MRS DARLING. Leave him, Wendy.

  WENDY. But I forgot.

  MRS DARLING. Bed.

  Scene Two

  The nursery is quiet and dark. MRS DARLING sleeps in an armchair by TOM’s bed. WENDY, JOHN and MICHAEL are asleep in their beds. TOM’s nightlight glows. The wind blows. The nursery window creaks open. In tiny moments, seen only by flashes of light from a fairy – TINK – that lingers by his side is the face of PETER PAN. He’s at the window, on a table, and then by TOM’s bed. PETER plays an eerie tune on his harmonica and suddenly he’s surrounded by an army of SHADOWS. The silent troupe hovers by TOM’s bed before lifting him up – up and away – out of the window and off into the night. PETER remains behind a moment. He catches sight of WENDY’s face and he can’t tear himself away. MRS DARLING rouses – the fairy grabs PETER and drags him out of the window. With a flurry, the window closes and above the nursery, in the nigh
t sky, a new star appears; the smallest, brightest star in the sky. TINK’s light darts across the sky, followed by the shadow of PETER PAN.

  MRS DARLING rouses.

  MRS DARLING. Tom? Tom.

  Scene Three

  Winter, 1909. The nursery is darker now, more sombre. WENDY stands at the window.

  MICHAEL. Why do you keep staring out of the window?

  WENDY. I’m sure I keep seeing a boy, or maybe the shadow of a /

  JOHN. / Wendy, you’ve gone totally gaga.

  WENDY. I’ve seen him – there’s a boy, I promise!

  JOHN. Lost it, box of frogs. We’re going to have to put you in an asylum.

  WENDY. Michael, into bed.

  MICHAEL. I want Mother to tuck me in.

  WENDY. Well, you’ve got me.

  MICHAEL. Can we play pirates? Can I be Captain?

  JOHN. I’m reading.

  MICHAEL. Can you tell me a story?

  JOHN. There was once a boy called John who died from always being asked annoying questions; the end.

  MICHAEL. Wendy, John’s being /

  WENDY. / John, have you washed behind your ears?

  JOHN licks his hand and wipes it behind his ears.

  Ugh you’re disgusting.

  JOHN. I’m meant to be disgusting – I’m a boy.

  MICHAEL. Fine, I’ll play on my own.

  WENDY. Michael – bed!

  MICHAEL exits into the bathroom. MRS DARLING is in her housedress about to enter the nursery. MR DARLING catches her. MR DARLING is dressed smartly and now sports an incredibly large and rather ridiculous-looking moustache.

  MR DARLING. Why aren’t you ready?

  MRS DARLING. I don’t feel up to it.

  MR DARLING. We haven’t been to one work function this season; do you know how that looks?

  MRS DARLING. I’d imagine it looks like something’s wrong.

 

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