When O sits up and back his head is framed in headrest which is a narrower extension of backrest. Throughout scene of inspection and destruction of photographs E may be supposed immediately behind chair looking down over O’s left shoulder (12).
2. O opens folder, takes from it a packet of photographs (13), lays folder on case and begins to inspect photographs. He inspects them in order 1 to 7. When he has finished with 1 he lays it on his knees, inspects 2, lays it on top of 1, and so on, so that when he has finished inspecting them all 1 will be at the bottom of the pile and 7–or rather 6, for he does not lay down 7–at the top. He gives about six seconds each to 1-4, about twice as long to 5 and 6 (trembling hands). Looking at 6 he touches with forefinger little girl’s face. After six seconds of 7 he tears it in four and drops pieces on floor on his left. He takes up 6 from top of pile on his knees, looks at it again for about three seconds, tears it in four and drops pieces on floor to his left. So on for the others, looking at each again for about three seconds before tearing it up. 1 must be on tougher mount for he has difficulty in tearing it across. Straining hands. He finally succeeds, drops pieces on floor and sits, rocking slightly, hands holding armrests (14).
3. Investment proper. Perception from now on, if dual perception feasible, E’s alone, except perception of E by O at end. E moves a little back (image of headrest from back), then starts circling to his left, approaches maximum angle and halts. From this open angle, beyond which he will enter percipi, O can be seen beginning to doze off. His visible hand relaxes on armrest, his head nods and falls forward, the rock approaches stillness. E advances, opening angle beyond limit of immunity, his gaze pierces the light sleep and O starts awake. The start revives the rock, immediately arrested by foot to floor. Tension of hand on armrest. Turning his head to right, O cringes away from perceivedness. E draws back to reduce the angle and after a moment, reassured, O turns back front and resumes his pose. The rock resumes, dies down slowly as O dozes off again. E now begins a much wider encirclement. Images of curtained window, walls and shrouded mirror to indicate his path and that he is not yet looking at O. Then brief image of O seen by E from well beyond the angle of immunity, i.e. from near the table with shrouded bowl and cage. O is now seen to be fast asleep, his head sunk on his chest and his hands, fallen from the armrests, limply dangling. E resumes his cautious approach. Images of shrouded bowl and cage and tattered wall adjoining, with same indication as before. Halt and brief image, not far short of full-face, of O still fast asleep. E advances last few yards along tattered wall and halts directly in front of O. Long image of O, full-face, against ground of headrest, sleeping. E’s gaze pierces the sleep, O starts awake, stares up at E. Patch over O’s left eye now seen for the first time. Rock revived by start, stilled at once by foot to ground. Hand clutches armrests. O half starts from chair, then stiffens, staring up at E. Gradually that look. Cut to E, of whom this very first image (face only, against ground of tattered wall). It is O’s face (with patch) but with very different expression, impossible to describe, neither severity nor benignity, but rather acute intentness. A big nail is visible near left temple (patch side). Long image of the unblinking gaze. Cut back to O, still half risen, staring up, with that look. O closes his eyes and falls back in chair, starting off rock. He covers his face with his hands. Image of O rocking, his head in his hands but not yet bowed. Cut back to E. As before. Cut back to O. He sits, bowed forward, his head in his hands, gently rocking. Hold it as the rocking dies down.
END
4. The purpose of this episode, undefendable except as a dramatic convenience, is to suggest as soon as possible unbearable quality of E’s scrutiny. Reinforced by episode of flower-woman in stairs sequence.
6. Expression of this episode, like that of animals’ ejection in part three, should be as precisely stylized as possible. The purpose of the monkey, either unaware of E or indifferent to him, is to anticipate behaviour of animals in part three, attentive to O exclusively.
7. Suggestion for vestibule with (1) O in percipi (2) released (3) hiding from flower-woman. Note that even when E exceeds angle of immunity O’s face never really seen because of immediate turn aside and (here) hand to shield face.
8. Up till now the perceptions of O, hastening blindly to illusory sanctuary, have been neglected and must in fact have been negligible. But in the room, until he falls asleep and the investment begins, they must be recorded. And at the same time E’s perceiving of O must continue to be given. E is concerned only with O, not with the room, or only incidentally with the room in so far as its elements happen to enter the field of his gaze fastened on O. We see O in the room thanks to E’s perceiving and the room itself thanks to O’s perceiving. In other words this room sequence, up to the moment of O’s falling asleep, is composed of two independent sets of images. I feel that any attempt to express them in simultaneity (composite images, double frame, superimposition, etc.) must prove unsatisfactory. The presentation in a single image of O’s perception of the print, for example, and E’s perception of O perceiving it–no doubt feasible technically–would perhaps
make impossible for the spectator a clear apprehension of either. The solution might be in a succession of images of different quality, corresponding on the one hand to E’s perception of O and on the other to O’s perception of the room. This difference of quality might perhaps be sought in different degrees of development, the passage from the one to the other being from greater to lesser and lesser to greater definition or luminosity. The dissimilarity, however obtained, would have to be flagrant. Having been up-till now exclusively in the E quality, we would suddenly pass, with O’s first survey of the room, into this quite different O quality. Then back to the E quality when O is shown moving to the window. And so on throughout the sequence, switching from the one to the other as required. Were this the solution adopted it might be desirable to establish, by means of brief sequences, the O quality in parts one and two.
This seems to be the chief problem of the film, though I perhaps exaggerate its difficulty through technical ignorance.
Suggestion for room.
This obviously cannot be O’s room. It may be supposed it is his mother’s room, which he has not visited for many years and is now to occupy momentarily, to look after the pets, until she comes out of hospital. This has no bearing on the film and need not be elucidated.
10. At close of film face E and face O can only be distinguished (1) By different expressions (2) by fact of O looking up and E down and (3) by difference of ground (for O headrest of chair, for E wall). Hence insistence on headrest and tattered wall.
11. Foolish suggestion for eviction of cat and dog. Also see Note 6.
12. Chair from front during photo sequence.
13. Description of photographs.
1. Male infant. 6 months. His mother holds him in her arms. Infant smiles front. Mother’s big hands. Her severe eyes devouring, him. Her big old-fashioned beflowered hat.
2. The same. 4 years. On a veranda, dressed in loose nightshirt, kneeling on a cushion, attitude of prayer, hands clasped, head bowed, eyes closed. Half profile. Mother on chair beside him, big hands on knees, head bowed towards him, severe eyes, similar hat to 1.
3. The same. 15 years. Bareheaded. School blazer. Smiling. Teaching a dog to beg. Dog on its hind legs looking up at him.
4. The same. 20 years. Graduation day. Academic gown. Mortar-board under arm. On a platform, receiving scroll from Rector. Smiling. Section of public watching.
5. The same. 21 years. Bareheaded. Smiling. Small moustache. Arm round fiancée. A young man takes a snap of them.
6. The same. 25 years. Newly enlisted. Bareheaded. Uniform. Bigger moustache. Smiling. Holding a little girl in his arms. She looks into his face, exploring it with finger.
7. The same. 30 years. Looking over 40. Wearing hat and overcoat. Patch over left eye. Cleanshaven. Grim expression. 14. Profit by rocking-chair to emotionalize inspection, e.g. gentle steady rock for 1 to 4, rock stilled (f
oot to ground) after two seconds of 5, rock resumed between 5 and 6, rock stilled after two seconds of 6, rock resumed after 6 and for 7 as for 1–4.
The Old Tune
An adaptation
An English adaptation of La Manivelle, a play for radio by Robert Pinget, which was first published in France by Editions de Minuit, Paris, and by John Calder (Publishers), London, in 1963.
Background of street noises. In the foreground a barrel-organ playing an old tune. 20 seconds. The mechanism jams. Thumps on the box to set it off again. No result.
GORMAN: [Old man’s cracked voice, frequent pauses for breath even in the middle of a word, speech indistinct for want of front teeth, whistling sibilants.] There we go, bust again. [Sound of lid raised. Scraping inside box.] Cursed bloody music! [Scraping. Creaking of handle. Thumps on box. The mechanism starts off again.] Ah about time!
[Tune resumes. 10 seconds. Sound of faltering steps approaching.]
CREAM: [Old man’s cracked voice, stumbling speech, pauses in the middle of sentences, whistling sibilants due to ill-fitting denture.]–Well, if it isn’t–[The tune stops.] –Gorman my old friend Gorman, do you recognize me Cream father of the judge, Cream you remember Cream.
GORMAN: Mr Cream! Well, I’ll be! Mr Cream! [Pause.] Sit you down, sit you down, here, there. [Pause.] Great weather for the time of day Mr Cream, eh.
CREAM: My old friend Gorman, it’s a sight to see you again after all these years, all these years.
GORMAN: Yes indeed, Mr Cream, yes indeed, that’s the way it is. [Pause.] And you, tell me.
CREAM: I was living with my daughter and she died, then I came here to live with the other.
GORMAN: Miss Miss what?
CREAM: Bertha. You know she got married, yes, Moody the nurseryman, two children.
GORMAN: Grand match, Mr Cream, grand match, more power to you. But tell me then the poor soul she was taken then was she.
CREAM: Malignant, tried everything, lingered three years, that’s how it goes, the young pop off and the old hang on.
GORMAN: Ah dear oh dear Mr Cream, dear oh dear.
[Pause.]
CREAM: And you your wife?
GORMAN: Still in it, still in it, but for how long.
CREAM: Poor Daisy yes.
GORMAN: Had she children?
CREAM: Three, three children, Johnny, the eldest, then Ronnie, then a baby girl, Queenie, my favourite, Queenie, a baby girl.
GORMAN: Darling name.
CREAM: She’s so quick for her years you wouldn’t believe it, do you know what she came out with to me the other day ah only the other day poor Daisy.
GORMAN: And your son-in-law?
CREAM: Eh?
GORMAN: Ah dear oh dear, Mr Cream, dear oh dear. [Pause.] Ah yes children that’s the way it is. [Roar of motor engine.] They’d tear you to flitters with their flaming machines.
CREAM: Shocking crossing, sudden death.
GORMAN: As soon as look at you, tear you to flitters.
CREAM: Ah in our time Gorman this was the outskirts, you remember, peace and quiet.
GORMAN: Do I remember, fields it was, fields, bluebells, over there, on the bank, bluebells. When you think …. [Suddenly complete silence. 10 seconds. The tune resumes, falters, stops. Silence. The street noises resume.] Ah the horses, the carriages, and the barouches, ah the barouches, all that’s the dim distant past, Mr Cream.
CREAM: And the broughams, remember the broughams, there was style for you, the broughams.
[Pause.]
GORMAN: The first car I remember I saw it here, here, on the corner, a Pic-Pic she was.
CREAM: Not a Pic-Pic, Gorman, not a Pic-Pic, a Dee Dyan Button.
GORMAN: A Pic-Pic, a Pic-Pic, don’t I remember it well, just as I was coming out of Swan’s the bookseller’s beyond there on the corner, Swan’s the bookseller’s that was, just as I was coming out with a rise of fourpence ah there wasn’t much money in it in those days.
CREAM: A Dee Dyan, a Dee Dyan.
GORMAN: You had to work for your living in those days, it wasn’t at six you knocked off, nor at seven neither, eight it was, eight o’clock, yes by God. [Pause.] Where was I? [Pause.] Ah yes eight o’clock as I was coming out of Swan’s there was the crowd gathered and the car wheeling round the bend.
CREAM: A Dee Dyan Gorman, a Dee Dyan, I can remember the man himself from Wougham he was the vintner what’s this his name was.
GORMAN: Bush, Seymour Bush.
CREAM: Bush that’s the man.
GORMAN: One way or t’other, Mr Cream, one way or t’other no matter it wasn’t the likes of nowadays, their flaming machines they’d tear you to shreds.
CREAM: My dear Gorman do you know what it is I’m going to tell you, all this speed do you know what it is has the whole place ruinated, no living with it any more, the whole place ruinated, even the weather. [Roar of engine.] Ah when you think of the springs in our time remember the springs we had, the heat there was in them, and the summers remember the summers would destroy you with the heat.
GORMAN: Do I remember, there was one year back there seems like yesterday must have been round 95 when we were still out at Cruddy, didn’t we water the roof of the house every evening with the rubber jet to have a bit of cool in the night, yes summer 95.
CREAM: That would surprise me Gorman, remember in those days the rubber hose was a great luxury a great luxury, wasn’t till after the war the rubber hose.
GORMAN: You may be right.
CREAM: No may be about it. I tell you the first we ever had round here was in Drummond’s place, old Da Drummond, that was after the war 1920 maybe, still very exorbitant it was at the time, don’t you remember watering out of the can you must with that bit of garden you had didn’t you, wasn’t it your father owned that patch out on the Marston Road.
GORMAN: The Sheen Road Mr Cream but true for you the watering you’re right there, me and me hose how are you when we had no running water at the time or had we.
CREAM: The Sheen Road, that’s the one out beyond Shackleton’s sawpit.
GORMAN: We didn’t get it in till 1925 now it comes back to me the wash-hand basin and jug.
[Roar of engine.]
CREAM: The Sheen Road you saw what they’ve done to that I was out on it yesterday with the son-in-law, you saw what they’ve done our little gardens and the grand sloe hedges.
GORMAN: Yes all those gazebos springing up like thistles there’s trash for you if you like, collapse if you look at them am I right.
CREAM: Collapse is the word, when you think of the good stone made the cathedrals nothing to come up to it.
GORMAN: And on top of all no foundations, no cellars, no nothing, how are you going to live without cellars I ask you, on piles if you don’t mind, piles, like in the lake age, there’s progress for you.
CREAM: Ah Gorman you haven’t changed a hair, just the same old wag he always was. Getting on for seventy-five is it?
GORMAN: Seventy-three, seventy-three, soon due for the knock.
CREAM: Now Gorman none of that, none of that, and me turning seventy-six, you’re a young man Gorman.
GORMAN: Ah Mr Cream, always a great one for a crack.
CREAM: Here Gorman while we’re at it have a fag, here. [Pause.] The daughter must have whipped them again, doesn’t want me to be smoking, mind her own damn business. [Pause.] Ah I have them, here, have one.
GORMAN: I wouldn’t leave you short.
CREAM: Short for God’s sake, here, have one.
[Pause.]
GORMAN: They’re packed so tight they won’t come out.
CREAM: Take hold of the packet. [Pause.] Ah what ails me all bloody thumbs. Can you pick it up.
[Pause.]
GORMAN: Here we are. [Pause.] Ah yes a nice puff now and again but it’s not what it was their gaspers now not worth a fiddler’s, remember in the forces the shag remember the black shag that was tobacco for you.
CREAM: Ah the black shag my dear Gorman the black shag, fit for royalt
y the black shag fit for royalty. [Pause.] Have you a light on you.
GORMAN: Well then I haven’t, the wife doesn’t like me to be smoking.
[Pause.]
CREAM: Must have whipped my lighter too the bitch, my old tinder jizzer.
GORMAN: Well no matter I’ll keep it and have a draw later on.
CREAM: The bitch sure as a gun she must have whipped it too that’s going beyond the beyonds, beyond the beyonds, nothing you can call your own. [Pause.] Perhaps we might ask this gentleman. [Footsteps approach.] Beg your pardon Sir trouble you for a light.
[Footsteps recede.]
GORMAN: Ah the young nowadays Mr Cream very wrapped up they are the young nowadays, no thought for the old. When you think, when you think …. [Suddenly complete silence. 10 seconds. The tune resumes, falters, stops. Silence. The street noises resume.] Where were we? [Pause.] Ah yes the forces, you went in in 1900, 1900, 1902, am I right?
CREAM: 1903, 1903, and you 1906 was it?
GORMAN: 1906 yes at Chatham.
CREAM: The Gunners?
GORMAN: The Foot, the Foot.
CREAM: But the Foot wasn’t Chatham don’t you remember, there it was the Gunners, you must have been at Caterham, Caterham, the Foot.
GORMAN: Chatham I tell you, isn’t it like yesterday, Morrison’s pub on the corner.
CREAM: Harrison’s. Harrison’s Oak Lounge, do you think I don’t know Chatham. I used to go there on holiday with Mrs Cream, I know Chatham backwards Gorman, inside and out, Harrison’s Oak Lounge on the corner of what was the name of the street, on a rise it was, it’ll come back to me, do you think I don’t know Harrison’s Oak Lounge there on the corner of dammit I’ll forget my own name next and the square it’ll come back to me.
The Complete Dramatic Works Page 28
