PAT Experience! I have been in this business since I was four years old. Vaudeville, the chorus, the Follies, radio, forty-two films and believe you me, I know why I lost that election. It’s the red influence of Mr. Stalin and Mr. Lenin that has infiltrated every corner of our industry!
FRANK Pat, I really don’t want to discuss politics with you. It upsets Mary and she should be down any minute.
PAT You don’t seem to mind discussing politics with others.
FRANK What’s that suppose to mean?
PAT Oh nothin’. It’s just that you have a reputation for having passionate political beliefs. Weren’t you quite active in liberal causes in your New York theatre days?
FRANK We all were. It was the spirit of the times. We suffered so during the depression.
PAT You’re going back to New York soon, aren’t you.
FRANK You are well informed. Perhaps I should have voted for you. Yes, I’m going back to do a play.
PAT Will Mary be joining you?
FRANK I doubt it. She’s got a string of pictures lined up. The studio’s giving her the big star treatment.
PAT It’s the old “Star is Born” scenario. One goes up and the other goes down.
FRANK (Matter of factly.) Pat, fuck you.
MARY DALE enters SL Door. Mary is a gracious woman, a star who is also the perfect wife. She is wearing a magnificent green chiffon dress covered with pink roses. She is Scarlett O’Hara at the barbecue circa 1951.
MARY My darlings. Pat, precious. (She crosses to her and kisses her.) Frank, darling. (She starts cross to him, notices him drinking, makes a horrified face but then tries to put on a bright expression. She crosses to him and kisses him.) Forgive me for being late. When one has tea with the girls, one dresses to the nines.
PAT Well, honey, you’re dressed to the ninety nines. There is no one in Hollywood with more tone.
MARY (With a gentle mocking tone.) You’re sweet, but Pat, that hat . . .
PAT Leave my hat alone. I’m a low comic. I’d be more at home in baggy pants.
MARY I heard you fired Ralph Barnes.
PAT Well you heard right.
MARY (With true sincerity.) Poor darling, I know how hard it is for you to fire people.
PAT (Very grateful.) Thank you Mary, I appreciate that. It’s always hard and I shed tears. Now please, let’s not say another word about it. Frank was telling me about the play he’s doing in New York.
MARY (Suddenly sad.) He could be gone for months. Don’t know how I’ll bear it.
FRANK You’ll be busy filming.
MARY (Suddenly happy.) Yes, a biography of Lady Godiva. I’ve always felt such an affinity for Eleventh Century England. It’s a marvelous script. Really illuminates those troubled times. And we have terrific musical numbers. I wanted the studio to cast Frank as the Lord of Coventry but . . . he didn’t think the role was right for him.
FRANK You mean the studio didn’t think we had the right chemistry on screen.
MARY What am I to do with my brooding young man?
FRANK I just hate this town and everything it stands for.
PAT Be careful Mary. He may go to New York, and not come back.
MARY I’ll get him back. When I told that preacher “till death do us part,” believe me I never spoke dialogue with more conviction. (Takes Frank’s arm.) Pat, I found myself a man, do you hear, a man and I’m not going to let this one get away, ever.
FRANK (Draining his drink.) Well, you’re gonna have to let me go for a little while. I’m due at the photo gallery in forty five minutes. I’ll be glad when I’m an old character man and don’t have to take these phony glamour photos. Give a kiss, baby.
They kiss.
MARY Oh darling, remember we’re having dinner with the Gradys this evening. Cocktails at seven.
FRANK Oh boy. I’m really gonna catch heck from the big boss. I can’t Mary.
MARY Why not? We’ve had this planned for weeks. They’re counting on us.
FRANK You’ll have to go without me. I’m meeting with my agent to discuss a new image for me. He says it’s urgent.
MARY But surely you could have told me this earlier.
FRANK It came up very suddenly.
PAT Sort of from left field, so t’ speak.
FRANK (Glares at Pat.) Look, I’ve gotta run. I’m sorry Mary. I am. (He exits SR door.)
MARY I worry about him, Pat. I worry about him.
MALCOLM, the houseboy, enters SL door. Malcolm is a good looking fella in his late twenties, though high-strung and pale.
MALCOLM Mrs. Taggart, should I serve tea now or would you prefer waiting till your other guest arrives?
MARY (To Pat.) Are you famished or shall we wait?
PAT Oh, it don’t matter. A cup of tea is a cup of tea. How’re things going, Malcolm?
MALCOLM Quite well, Miss Pilford. You’re looking in full bloom.
PAT Can’t complain.
MARY Weren’t you both working at Republic at the same time?
PAT Oh yes. Malcolm was in the make-up department when I did a picture there.
MALCOLM (Matter of factly.) Indeed. Miss Pilford is the reason why I’m not working at Republic anymore.
MARY Pat, did you have Malcolm fired?
PAT Let’s just say that I didn’t care for the shade of red he was pushing.
MARY Malcolm, I’m glad you’re free to work for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
MALCOLM That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Taggart.
MARY Miss Pilford knows our little secret that Frank has something of a drinking problem. You don’t know how grateful I am to Malcolm. How many nights he’s had to strip Frank naked and hold him under the shower. I owe Malcolm a lot.
MALCOLM Think nothing of it Mrs. Taggart. It was my pleasure. Will that be all for now?
MARY For the moment.
MALCOLM Excuse me. (He exits SR door.)
PAT (Sighs.) I suppose some women have a passion for pansies.
MARY What are you talking about?
PAT Surely you know that Malcolm is that way. (She licks her pinky and wipes her brow.)
MARY Because he isn’t married. Really Pat, haven’t you ever heard of a bachelor? My Uncle Maurice lived with his best friend Cyril for thirty-two years. They had the most beautiful home in Indianapolis. You’ve never seen such gardens and they were definitely not that way. (She licks her pinky and wipes her brow.)
PAT (Irritated.) Mary Dale, you are just too good to be true.
MARY Besides it’s none of our business what people do in the privacy of their own homes.
PAT Mary, you are so wrong. We must know who’s boffing who.
MARY Pat, such language.
PAT (Getting all riled up.) It’s time to grow up and smell the lavendar. That kind of behavior undermines the core of our entire system, the sanctity of the American family. Girl, there’s strange sex going on in homes throughout this fair city and it’s my duty as a citizen to expose it. People are sodomizing each other at the drop of a hat. The government must have this information. We must drag them out into the light!
MARY Next you’ll be wanting FBI cameras in our bedrooms.
PAT Why not? I’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Roll film! Cut! Print it!
MARY (Sincerely.) Pat, I do envy your grasp of the issues challenging our world.
PAT (Takes her hand.) You are just a darling little kitten with a heart as big as the Hollywood Bowl. I’ll do the big thinking for both of us. So Lambikins, who’s our mystery guest for tea?
MARY Marta Towers.
PAT Marta Towers! Are you crazy?
MARY Why? Do you know her?
PAT Marta Towers is the most notorious pinko in Hollywood.
MARY Oh Pat. She has a few liberal friends.
PAT Marta Towers has had more Russians in her than the Kremlin.
MARY (Covering her ears.) Pat, please.
PAT Well, I won’t speak to her. Imagine inviting me here along with that woman. She
holds everything that Pat Pilford stands for with contempt.
MARY She’s a fine actress and a lovely girl. I’ve only met her a handful of times and for a housewarming gift, she sent us a complete set of silver bar equipment.
PAT An ice bucket, a shaker and a hammer and sickle.
MARY Stop that. (Doorbell rings.) And none of that pink talk when she’s here. That’s just nasty gossip, you’ll see.
Malcolm enters SR door.
MALCOLM Mrs. Taggart, Miss Towers has arrived.
Malcolm exits SL door and MARTA TOWERS enters SR door. Marta is a pretty woman in her thirties, demure and ladylike but with an inner fire.
MARY Marta dear.
MARTA Mary, your house is exquisite. Makes my little place look like a shack.
MARY I can’t believe that. Let me guess your style. French provincial?
MARTA I have no style. It’s just a mish mash of furniture I’ve picked up around the world on my travels. I do have one prize possession. A genuine nineteenth century Russian samovar.
MARY I’m green with envy. Oh, I’m so rude. Do you know Pat Pilford?
MARTA Who doesn’t? You’re an institution like Southern California Gas.
MARY Pat, you were awfully funny at the Hollywood Women’s Press Club Awards.
PAT I was so nervous. I thought I’d go wee wee in my panties.
MARY You nervous?
PAT Oh I always get stage fright. I’m yellow as a sunflower.
MARY (Laughs.) Isn’t that funny?
MARTA What Mary?
MARY Oh I was just thinking. Here I’m green with envy, Pat’s yellow with cowardice and you’re pink . . . (Mary fumbles about stuttering over her faux pas. Finally she lets out “Oh Boy” and sits on the settee.)
Malcolm enters SL door with a tray of tea and crumpets.
MALCOLM Tea, ladies.
MARY Over here, dear. There’s nothing like a spot of tea on a cold Los Angeles afternoon.
PAT Aren’t we terribly grand. I knew this dame when she was Dale Evans’ stand-in.
MARY I never was.
MALCOLM (Offering crumpets to Marta.) Would you like one Miss Towers?
MARTA They do look delicious, but alas I just started a diet.
MARY (Pouring tea for Marta.) You, you’re as thin as a rail.
MARTA Well, perhaps I will have a nosh.
MARY A nosh?
MARTA That’s a Yiddish expression. A bite to eat.
PAT What kind of roll is this?
MARY An English crumpet. (To Marta.) Cream and sugar dear.
MARTA No thank you.
MARY (Handing Marta her cup.) You know I’m currently filming a biography of Lady Godiva and when I take on a role, I like to immerse myself totally in that world. England, England, England, that’s all I think about. (Laughs.) Poor Frank, I’ve been serving him nothing but Yorkshire Pudding and Toad in the Hole for weeks. You should have seen his face when I served him his first Spotted Dick. (Pours Pat’s tea. To Pat.) Cream and Sugar.
PAT One lump.
MARTA I suppose all actors are a little meshuganuh.
Mary pauses for a beat not quite comprehending Marta but then shrugs it off.
PAT Marta, were you born in this country?
MARTA Indiana born and raised.
MARY (Relieved.) Really. I’m a fellow hoosier. I should have known. There’s nothing foreign about you. You’re as fresh and wholesome as an Indiana corn field. (Hands Pat her tea, pours her own cup and lifts it to sip.)
MARTA It’s been a problem. I long to play an exotic vamp but each time I do, I fall flat on my tuchis.
Mary nearly chokes on her tea.
MARTA My these are scrumptious.
MARY Are you much of a cook?
MARTA Yes, I adore cooking. As a matter of fact, I’ve been volunteering my services at a soup kitchen downtown.
MARY Really?
MARTA It’s a terrible sight to see these once proud men reduced to poverty by a system that’s failed them.
PAT (Holds two crumpets over her breasts.) Hey Mary, who’s this? Gypsy Sara Lee.
MARY (Laughs.) Oh Pat . . .
PAT (Holds crumpets like earmuffs.) Sonja Henie. (Puts crumpet halves over her eyes.) Little Orphan Annie.
MARY (Laughing.) Pat stop. You’re incorrigible. Marta, you were saying . . .
MARTA Yes. Only last week at the soup kitchen, I met a man, a former GI who risked his life for this country and yet found himself a pariah, unable to get a bank loan, unable to find a job. He told me his wife . . .
PAT Hey Mary. (She puts the crumpet in the center of her forehead like a doctor’s light.) Calling Dr. Kildare.
MARY (Hysterical with laughter.) Pat, please. Marta, the GI told you what?
MARTA Well he . . . he said his wife left him because . . .
PAT (Pulls her sleeve over her hand and holds the crumpet in front of the end of the sleeve.) Mary, Harold Russell. (She holds two crumpets sideways over her ears.) Clark Gable.
MARTA He said she . . .
PAT (Stands up and holds the two crumpets on her crotch like testicles.) Hey Stella!
MARY (Bent over with laughter.) Pat, please . . . (Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.) Pat, you are the funniest woman alive. (To Marta.) Marta, you’ve really given me food for thought. Terribly disturbing. Girls! I just got back my snapshots from Bermuda. You must see Frank posing with all the little natives. It’s darling. (Mary exits to the bedroom.)
PAT (Sipping her tea.) I hear in Russia they drink their tea out of a glass.
MARTA Yes.
PAT Ever been there, Marta?
MARTA A few years ago I did visit the Soviet Union. It was fascinating experience.
PAT (With false sincerity.) I bet. Inspirational.
MARTA In its way.
PAT Sort of inspired you to want to see their way of life over here?
MARTA We could learn some things from the Soviets.
PAT Such as denying the freedom of speech?
MARTA I wonder if we really have that freedom.
PAT You bet your bootie we do. Every crackpot in the land has his say. And the government supports it. That’s the problem. Why must everyone have a voice? And the commies are using our media to put their message across.
MARTA Are you advocating censorship?
PAT Yes! Ideas must be censored. Why can’t people understand that concept?
Mary enters looking very perplexed holding a passport.
PAT Mary, what’s wrong?
MARY I was looking for the snapshots in Frank’s sock drawer and I found this passport.
MARTA Is it Frank’s?
MARY I don’t know. It’s an old passport, outdated and it’s Frank’s photo.
PAT So?
MARY Only the name isn’t Frank Taggart born in Minnesota. It says this person was born in the Ukraine and his name is ... Moishe Nisowitz.
BLACKOUT
ACT ONE
SCENE 2
That evening. The pier at Playa del Rey. Frank is seen waiting for someone on the lonely pier. He lights a cigarette. A woman appears in a trenchcoat and approaches him. It’s Marta Towers.
FRANK I was afraid you wouldn’t come. I had a helluva time getting out of the house. Mary thinks I’m with my agent. Marta, you looked very mysterious coming out of the fog. Mysterious and beautiful.
MARTA Not by Hollywood standards. I’ve been told that the camera brings out odd things in my face.
FRANK What does a cold metal thing like a camera know about a beautiful woman.
MARTA Frank, we’re not shooting a scene. You don’t have to seduce me. I came to this dreary pier in God forsaken Playa del Rey because I wanted to. Now I want you to kiss me.
FRANK Request granted.
They kiss.
MARTA Have you thought about my proposition?
FRANK Yeah, I have. I can’t get it out of my mind.
MARTA And?
FRANK I . . . I don’t know. It’s what I’
m starving for. I suppose deep down I’m just chicken.
MARTA Take the leap, Frank. We both know it’s what you crave.
FRANK It’s my every fantasy but do I have it in me? Can I really go that far?
MARTA Frank, dive in, get wet, get yourself dirty and do as I say, take a method acting class.
FRANK You’ve got to understand, Marta. I was trained in light Broadway comedies. It was drummed into my head over and over, technique and timing equals talent.
MARTA A cheap bourgeois simplification. There is no art without the soul, without the gut. Study Tolstoy and Turgenev and they will tell you the same.
FRANK I’ve never been with a woman like you before.
MARTA You mean with half a brain.
FRANK You mustn’t talk about Mary that way.
MARTA Loyalty is admirable when it’s directed at the right people and the right ideas. Misguided when it’s wasted on idiots and tired clichés.
FRANK Mary is a wonderful girl, the perfect wife.
MARTA I’m sure she is but you’ve outgrown her, Frank. I’ll admit she’s not malicious but in her innocent way, she’s dangerous. She’s holding you back from becoming the artist we know you can be.
FRANK Can an actor really be an artist?
MARTA Oh yes, Frank. But you can’t be content with superficialities. You must dig and search within yourself. I see in you such possibilities. I hope you won’t think I’m being too pushy but I see us as a great acting team.
FRANK You do?
MARTA Oh yes, Frank. I see us returning to the theatre, away from all this silliness and act great roles in great plays. Think of how much fun we’d have doing “The Lower Depths,” “The Weavers,” “Saint Joan of the Stockyards.”
FRANK (Getting excited.) “The Weavers,” yes. (She tries to kiss him, he breaks away.) No, I can’t do this. I can’t betray Mary.
MARTA (Wrapping her arms around him.) “The Wild Duck,” “Baal,” “When We Dead Awaken,” “Blood Wedding,” “The Ghost Sonata,” “No Exit.”
FRANK I’ll do it. Where do I go?
MARTA The Yetta Felson Studio. Sunset at La Brea. Tomorrow at eight. Frank, trust me, you’ll never be the same.
BLACKOUT
ACT ONE
SCENE 3
Late that night. Mary and Frank’s home. Frank stumbles in drunk. He sits down and struggles to take off his shoe and can’t. Malcolm enters in his bathrobe.
The Tale of the Allergist's Wife and Other Plays Page 16
