Monday, 19 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole, Excerpt 5

This scene of an old Romany gypsy man talking to an outsider, a Gâzo, taking a census was the first thing I wrote for The Miracles Of Marta Manole.

I named the gypsy Kazann after Zitto Kazann, the actor who played the Romanian gypsy in Buffy and Angel (above). In lieu of a name I called the census-taker Census.

I wasn't particularly disappointed when it didn't get used, but it was probably a very useful writing exercise. Either way, here it is:

Enter Census, a government man with a clipboard; he nervously attempts to approach several people on the bustling stage, but with no success then he spies an old man, Kazann, sat down in the middle of hustle and the bustle.

Census: Excuse me sir, I'd just like to ask you a few questions.
Kazann: Nothing just about them, son.
Census: I beg your pardon?
Kazann: Oh, they may be merely questions, but you can rest assured they are not just.
Census: If I could take your name?
Kazann: No. I want to keep it. You want to take my name, the more lists you can put it on, the less claim I have to it. Somewhere down the line you'll swap it for a number.
Census: A number?
Kazann: Yes, you know, for insurance, or healthcare or whatever.
Census: Oh, but it's only for identification.
Kazann: We don't want to be identified. Not by men with big smiles and clipboards, not by men with big smiles and semi-automatic weaponry. That's where all those dusty lists make another appearance.
Census: Oh?
Kazann: It's easy to lose track of them. If your name is on one, you see a pretty nurse, she checks your pulse. If your name is on another you get a rifle butt to the face and find yourself doing hard labour.
Census: But I can assure you that this list will only be used for the good of the people on it.
Kazann: An assurance from a man who is desperate to keep a job given to him by a government. Governments are fleeting; sometimes they change very quickly. A list of humble peasants with gout becomes a list of vermin to be shipped out.

Pause.

Kazann: I do have a date of birth.

Census looks smug and puts pen to paper expectantly.

Kazann: But I have no idea when it was, and this will scare you (he whispers) I don't care.
Census: But surely the day you were born is important?
Kazann: Of course it's important.

Pause.

Kazann: But only for twenty-four hours. Do you know what 'Carpe Diem' means?
Census: Yes, it means-
Kazann: It means: 'Seize the fish'.
Census: No, it-
Kazann: Because the fish moves quickly, the fisherman must pounce when he sees it, he doesn't wait and see. He pounces. And then do you know what happens?
Census: He catches the fish?
Kazann: Hardly ever! The fisherman goes home to his wife safe in the knowledge that she will shout at him, but that he tried.
Census: And the fish?
Kazann: Swims to another pool and lives a little longer.
Census: Wait, are you the fisherman or the fish?
Kazann: Yes.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole, Excerpt 4

This is the last scene that I wrote for The Miracles Of Marta Manole.

The dialogue written for Nula was a servant of two masters. Obviously, it had to serve the narrative and the character, but I was also very aware that Nikki Bozdogan who played the part deserved some good dialogue because she was being marked for this just as much as I was.

It quickly transpired that Nula was a very physical part and Nikki worked very hard on mannerisms that showed her character far better than any of the dialogue written for her.

I have absolutely no idea what "Dvaska moh me, mo moo valle" means now, I'm sure it was vitally important:

Tzagoi empties the bucket, and rattles it until Nula enters out of curiosity.

Tzagoi: There you are.

Nula stops, and cranes to look into the bucket.

Tzagoi: Do you even know what you are?
Nula: Nula.
Tzagoi: That's just a name. You're a bastard daughter of a bastard daughter.
Nula (it's not the first time she's heard the word): Bastard.
Tzagoi: A miscarriage of nature.

Tzagoi is still preventing her from seeing into the bucket.

Nula: Game.
Tzagoi: Yes, game.
Nula (imploringly): Nula see.

Nula cranes to see, Tzagoi blocks her view.

Tzagoi (out loud, but to Nula): That's right: "What's in the bucket?"
Tzagoi: It's just a game.
Tzagoi: Everybody wants to play.
Nula: Nula play.

Tzagoi shoves Nula.

All: Dvaska moh me, mo moo valle.

Tzagoi shoves Nula twice more.

Tzagoi: If you win, you get what's in the bucket.
Tzagoi: And if I win, everything goes back to the way it should be.

Tzagoi grabs Nula by the scruff of the neck and forces her head into the bucket, there is clearly water in it.
Tzagoi: But either way, you still get to see what's in the bucket!


Nula: Same eyes.

Tzagoi throws Nula away from him and then the bucket after her.

Thursday, 15 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole, Excerpt 3

This scene of Tzagoi looking after Mitke was staged side-by-side with a scene showing Hogea and Nula's relationship going through similar adversity, but with a more positive result. I think the visuals worked better than the dialogue:

Mitke mumbles something unintelligible.

Tzagoi: Oh good, what is it this time?

Mitke mumbles some more.

Tzagoi: Yeah, couldn't agree more. Are you cold?

Mitke mumbles something negative and shakes his head.

Tzagoi: I think you're cold.



Tzagoi adjusts Mitke's coat. Mitke mumbles again and realisation dawns on Tzagoi. Reluctantly he lifts Mitke from his seat and helps him to a bucket. He steadies his father as he pisses into the bucket, for an interminable length of time. Tzagoi helps him back down.

Tzagoi: Do you want anything? No, don't answer that, neither of us has enough time.

Tzagoi yawns.

Tzagoi: I'd love to stay and…actually no I wouldn't.

Mitke tries to say something.

Tzagoi: I'm going. I'll see you tomorrow.

Tzagoi exits.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole, Excerpt 2

This is the second scene I wrote for The Miracles of Marta Manole, it concerns Tzagoi and Hogea discovering their mother's body and then having a converation with her.

The introductory stage directions below are entirely inaccurate, instead Hatzidah entered, built her own coffin from the planks we were using as a set and began knitting, which is a far, far better beginning than what I've written below.

I found it a lot easier to write for Hatzidah and Hogea than Tzagoi, which surprised me.

Reading this many years later I was very proud of it. I like the matter of fact nature of Hatzidah's dialogue:

Tzagoi and Hogea return home to find Hatzidah lying down; the audience don't see her face. She's dead, nothing fancy just dead; she is also sat in a chair away from her corpse. Tzagoi approaches the corpse, Hogea does not.

Tzagoi: Hogea, don't look.
Hogea: Don't look at what?

Hogea looks at the corpse, Hogea jumps at the sight. Hogea weeps at the thought.

Hatzidah: Boys.

Hogea jumps even higher.

Hatzidah: Don't worry Hogea.

She moves to comfort Hogea.



Tzagoi: I told you not to look.
Hatzidah: Tzagoi! He's upset, what is it, dear?
Hogea: You're dead.
Tzagoi: What happened mama?
Hatzidah: Well I don't know. Everything just sort of stopped, but here I am.

Hatzidah rises.

Tzagoi: That's it?
Hatzidah: What more do you want?
Tzagoi: I don't know, angels, harps? Maybe some singing.
Hogea: Who cares? Mama is dead.
Hatzidah: Some singing would have been nice.

She starts to sing something relevant in the background.

Hogea: Tzagoi, how can this be happening? What did we do to deserve this?
Tzagoi: That's enough.
Hogea: What's it like, being dead?

Tzagoi moves to leave but remains on the periphery.

Hogea (unaware of Tzagoi): Being d-?
Hatzidah (fully aware of Tzagoi): Dead?
Hogea: Yes, how does it feel?
Hatzidah: Empty.
Hogea (emotionally): Is it peaceful?
Hatzidah: Peaceful, with all these questions!
Hatzidah: Come here, my Hogea.

Hatzidah hugs Hogea.

Hatzidah: Hogea, promise me that you will look after your brother. Tzagoi is proud, he won‘t ask for help, he takes after his father too much for that.
Hogea: And father?
Hatzidah: Oh, he can't look after himself, so don‘t expect him to look after the two of you.
Hogea: Where is father?
Hatzidah: Where do you think? He's in the whore's bar.
Hogea: What's a whore?
Hatzidah: Ask your father, when he brings one home.
Tzagoi: Hogea, go and find father.
Hatzidah: Does he have to?

Hatzidah looks at a distressed Tzagoi.

Hatzidah: Oh, I suppose he does.
Hogea: OK, I'll go, but you be here when I get back.

Hogea exits slowly.

Hatzidah: Come here, you.
Tzagoi: What?
Hatzidah: Don't 'what' your mother. Now sit down next to me.

Tzagoi does so and his mother places his head across her knees and strokes his hair.

Hatzidah: That's better.
Tzagoi: Mama, will everything be alright?
Hatzidah: No, it never is.



Mitke enters.

Hogea: Where were you? WHERE WERE YOU?!
Mitke: It's not your business to ask me where I was- What about you, you'll be the death of your mother.

Mitke notices Hatzidah.

Sunday, 11 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole, Excerpt 1

Mitke's wife was mentioned in the Camden People's Theatre version of the show, but did not appear as a fully fledged character. The simple brief for this scene was to introduce her. I don't think I came up with the name Hatzidah, but I really like it. The scenes also needed to illustrate her character very quickly and give an insight into her marriage to Mitke without simply being exposition.

Gabor Pitoyli was Mitke's crooked employer and played by a different actor each time he appeared. The photo to the left is myself pulling terrible faces in the part. The cheeky stage direction when he enters here is because in this scene Gabor was played by the petite Nikki Bozdogan. I don't think she minded it, although I doubt I'd make such a comment now. Sadly I don't have a photo of Nikki as Pitoyli.

This is the first scene I wrote that made it into the show and looking back at this script years later, I think it did the job:

Hatzidah: What have you done today?

The plank is removed.

Hatzidah: Nothing.
Mitke: Why do you do that?
Hatzidah: Do what?
Mitke: Ask me a question and then answer it before I can.

Hatzidah says nothing.

Mitke: Either you aren't interested in the answer, in which case: why ask the question?

Hatzidah says nothing.

Mitke: Or my answer is never good enough, so you make up your own, so: why ask me at all?



Hatzidah: All right dear, what have you done today?
Mitke: Nothing.

Gabor enters shorter than usual. Hatzidah exits.

Gabor: Nothing.
Mitke: Sorry?
Gabor: You haven't brought me nothing all week.
Mitke (nervously): Well, it's been a slow week.
Gabor: Slow? Need I remind you of what happens to people who disappoint me? Like rent collectors who don‘t collect rent.
Mitke: No.
Gabor: Don't be a disappointment.
Mitke: No, Mister Pitoyli.
Gabor: If you can scare them half as much as I scare you, then we'll be in business.

Pause.

Gabor: Get out.

Washing line comes on.

Friday, 9 March 2012

The Miracles Of Marta Manole

In 2004, the final production in my third year at university was The Miracles Of Marta Manole, directed by Tony Gardner. It was a reinterpretation of a script written by Gardner and performed by the Camden People's Theatre.


The play concerns four generations of a Romany gypsy community. Marta Manole is a mystical and magical figure, possibly a witch. She is wronged by Mitke, a drunk and hapless rent collector.


Mitke is married to Hatzidah and they have two sons, Tzagoi and Hogea. Somehow Mitke convinces Marta to have sex with him and they too conceive a child, Irina. Mitke shuns his daughter and Marta curses him so that every woman he touches will fall pregnant. She refers to these as her miracles.

Over the years, Mitke's curse affects other women including tavern owner Asra Bargoi, Hatzidah dies and haunts her home, while Tzagoi, Hogea and Irina grow up together entirely unaware that they are related. Both brothers have feelings for Irina, but she only has eyes for Hogea.


As adults all three of them go swimming and Tzagoi attempts to force himself on Irina and in the struggle Irina drowns. Marta discovers her daughter's body and also that the curse she placed on Mitke affects both his sons as well and within Irina's corpse is her granddaughter. Marta looks into the baby's eyes and sees her killer and carries her daughter's body through the streets to Mitke's house.

Irina's ghost introduces Hogea to Nula, her baby. Mitke has a stroke and the nuns from a local convent tend to him, but his curse strikes again as the nuns all receives little miracles of their own and Mitke is asked to leave. So as Hogea cares for Nula, Tzagoi reluctantly looks after his father.


Nula attempts to form a relationship with Tzagoi in her own clumsy way saying they have the "same eyes". Tzagoi resists and seeks out his brother.





Hogea pulls a knife on his brother. Tzagoi appeals to his brother and moves to hug him, but is accidentally stabbed in the process. Unable to live with this Hogea then stabs himself, embraces his brother and they die together. Nula guards their bodies. Marta and Mitke never speak again.


It was a fantastic experience to work on something in such an all-consuming way. It felt at the time as though this was the way working like a professional would feel. I now realise that we had the luxury of time that isn't usually present on a professional show.

Tony Gardner worked very collaboratively and trusted most of the cast to get on with the job at hand. It was great to be part of a cast that were pulling in the right direction. Nikki Bozdogan, Leo Cox, Charlote Gunton, Claire Ludgate and Anna Masing were all brilliant and really rose to the various challenges that the script (and sometimes the lack of script) presented.

I played Tzagoi, Mitke's eldest son. It was a great part. Firstly, because Tzagoi, Hogea and Irina are all introduced as children and grow to adulthood, which was a joy to do. Leo, Claire and I genuinely had an absolute ball playing children playing. Secondly, in a play with more by way of antagonists than protagonists, Tzagoi was driven by his own frustrations and so anything he did that was malicious had a psychological motivation.

The scenes of the children at play were very popular with the audience, as was a moment of the two brothers urinating off the balcony. Claire in particular was very, very funny and she and I played to the audience and rode the laughs a bit more than we probably should have.


The adolescent rivalry between Tzagoi and Hogea was great fun as well. Leo and I worked very hard to keep it fresh and did some things differently each performance.


Tzagoi's only real relationship is with his brother and when that is taken away from him he feels bereft and it is this that in the later scenes means there is no way back for him.


Instead of a set we used planks of wood to represent all manner of different locations and objects.


The local drinking establishment...


A coffin...


A house...


The planks were genius and I was very fond of them, but they also lead in part to my getting injured during rehearsal. At one point in the show I was holding on to an upright plank while the rest of the cast held my feet and I would let go and they would catch me. On one occasion they didn't. It was a lesson learned for all of us. I had to go to A & E and get stitches in my chin.


During the scene of the swimming in the lake I was injured...again. We would wet our hair and walk out into the material that represented the lake. The underwater 'ballet' aspect of this had never seemed dangerous during rehearsal, but I slipped on some water on stage and gashed my chin in almost exactly the same place for a second time. Whether it was water dripping off me or whether it had previously been urinated off the balcony I don't know, but I got back finished 'swimming' and exited entirely unaware that I was bleeding profusely until Nikki told me and I washed the worst of it off. I went back onstage to rape Irina and we finished Act One. I was determined to go back on and do Act Two, the show must go on, etc, but that decision wasn't mine and I was sent to A & E for for the second time that month.

I felt very guilty that we hadn't completed that performance. I felt that I'd let everybody down, the cast, the backstage crew, the director, the audience and those lucky enough to accompany me to the hospital. We reworked various scenes for the remainder of the run in order to prevent me from bursting my stitches. One cast member clearly didn't think I felt guilty enough and made his contempt for me abundantly clear the next day and used every opportunity to hit me about the chin during our scenes together. It was agony.

The Camden People's Theatre version was never intended to be our final script, it was clear that we would require new material to expand the cast from five to nine. I relished the opportunity of writing some new bits. I'll post the scripts for the scenes I wrote over the next few days.

Saturday, 3 March 2012

Brit-Cit

Channel 4 are currently showing a season of programmes about multicultural Britain and as part of this they have highlighted the British Citizenship Test.

The test is required by law for individuals seeking Indefinite Leave to Remain in the UK or naturalisation as a British citizen. The test is up of 24 multiple-choice questions and to pass the candidate must receive a grade of 75% or more or at least 18 answers correct.

I recently took an online version of the test and failed.

Despite being born in the UK and having spent most of my life here, I only got 13 correct. Therefore I would not be allowed to become a citizen, but in my defence there were no questions about Doctor Who, Charles Dickens or Toffee Crisps.

Take a version of the British Citizenship Test for yourself.