Lulu Come on, come on.
Exit Robbie and Lulu.
Gary Are you gonna do it? I want you to do it. Come on. You can do it.
Because he’s not out there.
I’ve got this unhappiness. This big sadness swelling like it’s gonna burst.
I’m sick and I’m never going to be well.
Mark I know.
Gary I want it over. And there’s only one ending.
Mark I understand.
Gary He’s got no face in the story. But I want to put a face to him. Your face.
Mark Yes.
Gary Do it. Do it and I’ll say ‘I love you’.
Mark Alright. You’re dancing and I take you away.
Scene Fourteen
The flat.
Brian has the holdall of money.
Brian You know, life is hard. On this planet. Intractable. I can tell you this because I feel it. Yes, like you I have felt this. We work, we struggle. And we find ourselves asking: what is this for? Is there meaning? I know you’ve . . . I can see this question in your eyes. You ask yourself these questions. Right now – yes?
Robbie Yes.
Brian And you – what is there to guide me on my lonely journey?
Yes?
Lulu Yes.
Brian We need something. A guide. A talisman. A set of rules. A compass to steer us through this everlasting night. Our youth is spent searching for this guide until we . . . some give up. Some say there is nothing. There is chaos. We are born into chaos. But this is . . . no. This is too painful. This is too awful to contemplate. This we deny. Am I right?
Robbie Yes.
Brian Yes. I have a rung a bell. Good, good. Bells are rung.
Chaos or . . . order. Meaning. Something that gives us meaning.
Pause.
My dad once said to me. My dad said it to me and now I’m going to say it to you. One day my dad says to me: Son, what are the first few words in the Bible?
Robbie In the beginning.
Brian No.
Robbie Yes. In the beginning.
Brian I’m telling you no.
Robbie That’s what it says. In the beginning.
Brian No, son. I’m telling you no. And you listen to me when I’m telling you no, alright?
Robbie Alright.
Brian Tell me, son, says my dad, what are the first few words in the Bible? I don’t know, Dad, I say, what are the first few words in the Bible? And he looks as me, he looks me in the eye and he says: Son, the first few words in the Bible are . . . get the money first. Get. The Money. First.
Pause.
It’s not perfect, I don’t deny it. We haven’t reached perfection. But it’s the closest we’ve come to meaning, Civilisation is money. Money is civilisation. And civilisation – how did we get here? By war, by struggle, kill or be killed. And money – it’s the same thing, you understand?
The getting is cruel, is hard, but the having is civilisation. Then we are civilised. Say it. Say it with me. Money is . . .
Pause.
SAY IT. Money is . . .
Lulu and Robbie Civilisation.
Brian Yes. Yes. I’m teaching. You’re learning. Money is civilisation. And civilisation is . . . SAY IT. Don’t get frightened now. And civilisation is . . .
Lulu and Robbie Money.
Brian offers them the holdall.
Brian Here. Take it.
Lulu You . . . ?
Brian I want you to take it.
Lulu It’s all there.
Brian Yes.
Lulu Look – if you want to count it. Three thousand.
Brian Take it from me when I tell you to take it.
Lulu takes the bag.
Brian Good. Good. You see? Do you understand? I am returning the money. You see?
Lulu I . . . yes.
Brian And now – you have a question. Ask me the question. Please. Ask the question?
Lulu Why?
Brian If you formulate the question . . .
Lulu Why didn’t you take the money? Why did you give us back the money?
Brian And now I can answer you. I answer. Because you have learnt. The lesson has been learnt you see. You understand this (Indicates the money.) and you are civilised. And so – I return it. I give it to you.
Lulu Thank you.
Brian gets up, moves to video player. He ejects the video of his son. Takes another video from his pocket. Places it in the machine. Pushes play.
Lulu (TV) One day we’ll know what all this was for, all this suffering, there’ll be no more mysteries, but until then we have to carry on living . . . we must work, / that’s all we can do. I’m leaving by myself tomorrow, I’ll teach in a school, and devote my whole life to people who need it. It’s autumn now, it’ll soon be winter, and there’ll be snow everywhere but I’ll be working . . . yes, working.
Brian We must work.
What we’ve got to do is make the money. For them. My boy. Generations to come. We won’t see if of course – that purity. But they will. Just as long as we keep on making the money.
Not in chemicals. Not pure. Supplies aren’t the best. So a kid dies. And then it’s headlines and press conferences. And you watch the dad, you watch a grown man cry and you think: time to move out of chemicals.
He pauses the tape.
That’s the future, isn’t it? Shopping, Television.
And now you’ve proved yourselves, I’d like you to join us.
All of you. Think about it.
He moves to the exit.
Our second favourite bit was the end. Because by then he’s got married. And he’s got a kid of his own. Right at the end he stands alone. He’s on a rock and he looks up at the night, he looks up at the stars and he says: ‘Father. Everything is alright, Father. I remembered. The Cycle of Being.’ Or words to that effect.
You ought to see it. You’d like it.
Exit Brian. Mark comes forward.
Mark It’s three thousand AD. Or something. It’s the future. The Earth has died. Died or we killed it. The ozone, the bombs, a meteorite. It doesn’t matter. But humanity has survived. A few of us . . . jumped ship. And on we go.
So it’s three thousand and blahdeblah and I’m standing in the market, some sort of bazaar. A little satellite circling Uranus. Market day. And I’m looking at this mutant. Some of them, the radiation it’s made them so ugly, twisted. But this one. Wow. It’s made him . . . he’s tanned and blond and there’s pecs and his dick . . . I mean, his dick is three-foot long.
This fat sort of ape-thing comes up to me and says . . . See the mute with the three-foot dick?
Yeah. I see him.
Well, he’s mine and I own him. I own him but I hate him.
If he don’t sell him today I’m gonna kill him.
So . . . a deal is struck, a transaction, I take my mutant home and I get him home and I say:
I’m freeing you. I’m setting you free. You can go now. And he starts to cry. I think it’s gratitude. I mean, he should be grateful but it’s . . .
He says – well, he telepathises into my mind – he doesn’t speak our language – he tells me:
Please. I’ll die. I don’t know how to . . . I can’t feed myself.
I’ve been a slave all my life. I’ve never had a thought of my own. I’ll be dead in a week.
And I say: That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.
Robbie Thirty-six inches and no shag?
Mark That’s right.
Lulu I like that ending.
Robbie It’s not bad.
Mark It’s the best I can do.
Robbie Hungry now? I want you to try some. (Of the ready meal.)
He feeds Mark with a fork.
Nice?
Mark Mmmmm.
Robbie Now give him some of yours.
Lulu Do you want some?
She feeds Mark.
Is that good?
Mark Delicious.
Robbie You’ve got a bit of blood.
L
ulu Bit more?
Mark Why not?
Lulu feeds him.
Robbie My turn.
Robbie feeds Mark.
Mark, Robbie and Lulu take it in turns to feed each other as the lights fade to black.
Faust is Dead
Author’s Note
Faust is Dead was the outcome of a week’s workshop in October 1996 with the Actors’ Touring Company and continued to develop during a further workshop, the rehearsal period and through preview performances. The original production made use of video sequences, the physical skills of the performers, music and light.
I would like to dedicate the play to the director Nick Phillipou, the producer Hetty Shand and the actors Alain Pelletier and Pete Bailey. Although all the words in the finished play are mine, their imaginations and opinions all shaped the writing of the play.
In April 1988, I revised the play for a production with the Tuesday Laboratory, Los Angeles. This is the revised text.
A slash in the dialogue (/) indicates that the next actor should start their line, creating overlapping speech.
Faust is Dead was commissioned and first produced by Actors’ Touring Company for a national tour in 1997. The cast was as follows:
Alain
Alain Pelletier
Pete
Pete Bailey
Donny
Andy Broadhurst
Chorus
Students from Marymount College
Directed by Nick Philippou
Produced by Hetty Shand
Designed by Pippa Nissen
Lighting by Zerlina Hughes
Music by Neil Starr
Video by Alain Pelletier
This revised version of the play was produced by Tuesday Laboratory at the Zephyr Theatre, Los Angeles, from 23 May to 28 June 1998. The cast was as follows:
Alain
Alan Kolman
Pete
Jason Peck
Donny
Brian Newman
Chorus
Chastity Dotson, Alex Fox, Dolly Levan, Dan McKeever, Ronald Robinson
Directed by Allan Hendrick
Produced by Kourosh Gohar
Characters
Alain, French
Pete, American
Donny
Chorus
Setting: The West Coast of America. Present Day.
One
Chorus See, a few years ago I couldn’t sleep. I’d go to bed and then I got thinking about all this stuff in the world – about the riots and the fighting and all the angry people and all – and I just couldn’t sleep. And sometimes I’d cry – partly because I really wanted to sleep and I was mad that I couldn’t sleep but partly because of all those bad things going on. And my mom would come into my room and be just like so totally freaked that I was crying night after night. ‘What’s wrong, poops? You have to tell me what’s wrong. Is it the teachers at the school? Is one of the teachers at the school doing bad things to you?’
Until eventually I’m like:
‘No, Mom, it’s not the teachers at the school. I’m crying for the world, because the world is such a bad place.’
And Momma is like:
‘I know, poops. It’s bad now but it’s getting better. It’s gonna get a whole lot better. We’re going to live in a better world.’
‘I know, Momma.’
And so I pretended to sleep and my mom went off to bed. And after that I taught myself to cry in a special way that meant she wouldn’t hear me ever again.
Two
TV show.
David Letterman So . . . you’re here, you’re in America. And you’ve written a book. And you’ve called it The Death of Man . . .
Alain Yes. That is correct. Yes.
David Letterman Neat title. What exactly does it mean?
Alain Well, it’s a complex thing to explain in a few minutes.
David Letterman Because I have to tell you right now I feel pretty much alive.
Laughter.
Alain Oh yes, of course.
David Letterman And it seems to me that you seem pretty much alive as well.
Alain Yes, but I’m talking about man as an idea.
David Letterman Uh uh / uh huh, yeah yeah.
Alain As an idea, as a construct.
David Letterman Madonna, have you read the book?
Madonna Not yet, David.
David Letterman But you’re going to right?
Madonna I’ve been pretty busy, David / you know that.
David Letterman But you’ve read the other / stuff right?
Madonna Sure, sure. The book about sexuality I thought was great.
David Letterman Now, that is a surprise.
Laughter.
Three
Alain I was invited to join the Director of Studies for a meal. Sushi, miso soup, sake. We were entertaining a potential sponsor for the department. He was a Japanese. And our potential sponsor asks me:
‘What are you thinking about today? Please, I understand you do a lot of thinking and I’d like to know – what are you thinking about today?’
What am I thinking about today?
Well, today, I am considering an example:
In 1981 a Dutch woman was on business in Tokyo, when she met a Japanese businessman. He invited her to join him for a meal. She read him some of her poetry. While she was reading, he shot her. Several times. He then chopped her up, put her in his bowl and ate her.
That is what I am thinking about today.
The potential sponsor did not like the example. He was very angry.
And Ms Brannigan – the Director of Studies is called Ms Brannigan – Ms Brannigan was angry also.
I had never read the guidelines. It seems no discourse within the university should be in any way offensive to women or to any member of a religious or racial grouping.
Ms Brannigan said that of course the incident would only result in a warning not a disciplinary action.
But it was the last of the straws. The camel’s back was broken.
And I told Ms Brannigan to go fuck herself.
And I decided that maybe I should live a little.
Four
Tatty apartment. Very late.
Alain is sitting. Very drunk. Pete is standing.
Pete You wanna take your jacket off?
Take your jacket off. Relax.
See, you relax then I guess I might relax too. Okay?
Please. Allow me.
He tries to remove the jacket.
Come on. That’s it. Come on.
I kind of know one of the guys, sorta know him a little, you know? And he said that you’re a producer, that you’re seeking to sign Stevie and the band. To a major label.
You do have an . . . an . . . aura . . . of . . . authority.
Sings, grunge fashion.
Got a killer in my VCR
Killer in my ROM
Killer on the cable news
Killer in the floss I use
Killer in the floss
Killer in the floss
Killer in the floss.
See? Neat words. No. Great words. Words, yeah, but also something about the way Steve . . . like he really totally means it, you know? Which is like totally marketable. And I am telling you that Stevie and the band are like totally the thing.
Just beer. That’s all? Is that what you’re saying to me – you get like this with beer?
If it’s beer I can taste it, okay?
He kisses Alain / tastes his mouth.
You wanna stay over? Stay over if you want.
Yeah. This a box. Or a hole. Both a box and a hole.
This is good. To talk with you like this is good. It’s interesting. For me. Because you’re different . . .
He kisses Alain.
Different can be sexy. Sometimes.
See, one of the guys figured that you were old and uncool enough – no offence intended – old and uncool enough to be A and R and Stevie sort of sent out word that if anyon
e was like prepared to . . . please you then Stevie could be very grateful to that person. So, if you wanna . . .
Okay, I understand. Sleep it off. Why not?
He tries to lift Alain up. Gives up.
Good night.
‘Killer in the floss
Killer in the floss
Killer in the floss.’
We’ll talk tomorrow about your signing of Stevie . . .
Alain (in French) Because in America, and only in America, am I truly at home.
For me, and for so many children of this twentieth century, it is only in America that we really believe that we are alive, that we are living within in our own century.
Pete Look. Hold it right there.
He fetches his camcorder.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry but I only have a little . . . so you have to go really slowly. Slowly. Okay.
Pete videos Alain.
Alain (in French) Because in America / and only in America, am I truly at home.
For me, and for so many children of this twentieth century, it is only in America that we really believe that we are alive, that we are living within in our own century.
In Europe, we are ghosts, trapped in a museum, with the lights out and the last visitor long gone.
And so I am going to America.
Pete Because in America . . . just America . . . is . . . really . . . home.
For me, and for children in the twentieth century (for kids? what’s the . . . it is only America (uh uh, uh, uh, uh uh) . . . dah dah dah belief in being alive (right), living in the century (century that we – what? – own).
In Europe, we are spooks (phantoms, ghosts, yeah), something in a some . . . (shit, he’s getting . . . shit), lights off and the somesuch something, yeah yeah yeah yeah.
Alain And / so I am going to America.
Pete And so I am going to America.
Alain And so I say:
(in American English) Hi, America. How ya doin’?
Pete Hi, Europe. America’s doing . . . just fine. America’s . . . yeah.
Ravenhill Plays: 1: Shopping and F***ing; Faust is Dead; Handbag; Some Explicit Polaroids (Contemporary Dramatists) Page 8
