I've finally gotten around to publishing Doing Time on-line, something I've been meaning to do for a long time now. Mac and I co-wrote the play in 2007, sending various versions back and forth to each other via e-mail, and chatting for hours and hours on the phone about it.
We premiered the original version of the play in Halifax in November, 2007, with Kris Lee McBride as Leda, Christina Cuffari as Jane (that's Mac with Christina in the picture - they became very good friends, and Mac was blown away by her performance), and Nick Lachance as the Administrator.
I flew Mac up from Kansas City (ahh... the wonders of corporate overhead), and he stayed with me for a week as we staged the play - we had a great time hanging out, chatting about life, watching movies, and, of course, working with the actors to stage a great run that was very well-received here in Halifax (the play was named one of the year's best by the Coast Magazine).
After we finished that initial run, I suggested that we make some changes to Mac to make it easier to stage, with just two characters instead of three. He thought that it actually worked better, as it focused even more on the isolation that Leda would feel (and eventually Jane as well), so he told me to "get on with it." I had the final revisions completed by May, 2008, and Mac signed off on it after he made a couple of minor tweaks. It is this revised / final version of the play that I have uploaded. I premiered it at the 2008 Boulder International Fringe Festival, with Annie Briggs as Leda and Christina as Jane. They did an amazing job, which I wish Mac could have seen - we had discussed flying him out from Kansas City to Denver, but he was tied up with another project at the time (as I recall, it was the episode of Supernatural Investigator that he was filming with my friend Mike MacDonald, although I'm not 100% sure of that).
Mac and I developed the play as a feature film during 2009 (with a lot of changes, but the basic story is more or less the same), and I plan to begin filming later this year.
Paul Kimball
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Script excerpt - Leda and Jane
JANE
Certainly you understand that you're in custody. We've discussed this before.
LEDA
Yeah, prison. Doing time. We've discussed it many times and it still doesn't make sense. How long have I been here, again?
Jane doesn’t answer.
LEDA
Humour me.
JANE
Ninety seven years. Give or take a couple of months on either end.
Leda starts to laugh.
LEDA
That's absurd. Humans can't live that long, even with gene therapy.
She circles Jane, like a hawk, trying to get a reaction, but Jane remains expressionless as her eyes follow Leda’s movements.
LEDA
Why don't you just tell me? What have you done? Am I a clone?
(to herself)
Maybe he actually did it.
(to Jane)
That would explain the lack of memory, but it wouldn't explain the time that's passed, unless you've hacked my nervous system. I vaguely remember seeing a documentary about neuroanatomy. They had this woman lying on an operating table with the top of her skull removed. The doctors were poking different parts of her brain to make her limbs move. Like a puppet, yet she was totally awake and commenting on the experience.
JANE
When did you see this?
LEDA
Before, I guess.
She looks around, as if trying to remember.
LEDA
Before this place.
She looks over directly at Jane.
LEDA
Before you.
She pauses, as if trying to remember. Then, dejected, she sits back down on her cot.
JANE
You say you may be amnesiac – that there is no "before." Yet you profess to have a memory that predates your current predicament.
LEDA
You know, it's almost comforting to hear you refer to this whole mess as a "predicament." Almost like you sympathize.
JANE
And what makes you think I don't?
LEDA
Stop it. Just stop it. Leave me alone.
JANE
How long would you like to be left alone?
LEDA
Until I'm able to forget you.
JANE
That's exactly what you said the last time.
She makes a note of it on her pad of paper, and exits the room, as Leda leans back against the wall, and closes her eyes.
Certainly you understand that you're in custody. We've discussed this before.
LEDA
Yeah, prison. Doing time. We've discussed it many times and it still doesn't make sense. How long have I been here, again?
Jane doesn’t answer.
LEDA
Humour me.
JANE
Ninety seven years. Give or take a couple of months on either end.
Leda starts to laugh.
LEDA
That's absurd. Humans can't live that long, even with gene therapy.
She circles Jane, like a hawk, trying to get a reaction, but Jane remains expressionless as her eyes follow Leda’s movements.
LEDA
Why don't you just tell me? What have you done? Am I a clone?
(to herself)
Maybe he actually did it.
(to Jane)
That would explain the lack of memory, but it wouldn't explain the time that's passed, unless you've hacked my nervous system. I vaguely remember seeing a documentary about neuroanatomy. They had this woman lying on an operating table with the top of her skull removed. The doctors were poking different parts of her brain to make her limbs move. Like a puppet, yet she was totally awake and commenting on the experience.
JANE
When did you see this?
LEDA
Before, I guess.
She looks around, as if trying to remember.
LEDA
Before this place.
She looks over directly at Jane.
LEDA
Before you.
She pauses, as if trying to remember. Then, dejected, she sits back down on her cot.
JANE
You say you may be amnesiac – that there is no "before." Yet you profess to have a memory that predates your current predicament.
LEDA
You know, it's almost comforting to hear you refer to this whole mess as a "predicament." Almost like you sympathize.
JANE
And what makes you think I don't?
LEDA
Stop it. Just stop it. Leave me alone.
JANE
How long would you like to be left alone?
LEDA
Until I'm able to forget you.
JANE
That's exactly what you said the last time.
She makes a note of it on her pad of paper, and exits the room, as Leda leans back against the wall, and closes her eyes.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Christina Cuffari is Leda Calder
2008 Boulder Fringe Festival Poster
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)