ROAD JIM CARTWRIGHT
Jim Cartwright’s plays are consistently performed around the world and have won numerous awards. They have been translated into over 30 languages.
His first play, Road, opened at the Royal Court in 1986, and was subsequently revived that same year and again in 1987, before being taken on a nationwide tour. Road won the Samuel Beckett Award, Drama Magazine’s Best New Play Award, and was joint winner of The Plays And Players Award and The George Devine Award. In 1988, Road was produced by The Lincoln Centre, New York. Road is now considered a modern classic.
in the play i had played the character of brendon (brenda) which is the single parent of carol. my character is very cautious of the daughter. my character tries to be the more controling in the family but fails. my character and my partners character are always on different moods.They both can be nice and sweet to each other and then next they are both arguing.
Monday, 13 May 2013
PRIVATE LIVES
PRIVATE LIVES NOEL COWARD
Coward was born in 1899 in Teddington, Middlesex, a suburb of London. His parents were Arthur Sabin Coward (1856–1937), a piano salesman, and Violet Agnes Coward (1863–1954), daughter of Henry Gordon Veitch, a captain and surveyor in the Royal Navy. Noël Coward was the second of their three sons, the eldest of whom had died in 1898 at the age of six. Coward's father lacked ambition and industry, and family finances were often poor. Coward was bitten by the performing bug early and appeared in amateur concerts by the age of seven. He attended the Chapel Royal Choir School as a young child.
My Character is Eliot. he is a very charming fellow and keeps his head up high. His character is a very well mannered man and also a gentleman.
private lives script act 3
SIBYL: What are we to do?
VICTOR [with determination]: Wake them ourselves.
[He goes towards AMANDA'S door.]
SIBYL: No, no, wait a minute.
VICTOR: What's the matter?
SIBYL [plaintively]: I couldn't face them yet, really, I couldn't; I feel
dreadful.
VICTOR: So do I. [He wanders gloomily over to the window] It's a lovely
morning.
SIBYL: Lovely.
[She bursts into tears.]
VICTOR [coming to her]: I say, don't cry.
SIBYL: I can't help it.
VICTOR: Please don't, please-
SIBYL: It's all so squalid; I wish we hadn't stayed; what's the use?
VICTOR: We've got to see them before we go back to England, we
must get things straightened out.
SIBYL [sinking down on to the sofa]: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I wish I
were dead.
VICTOR: Hush, now, hush. Remember your promise. We've got to
see this through together and get it settled one way or another.
SIBYL [sniffling]: I'll try to control myself, only I'm so ... so tired, I
haven't slept properly for ages.
VICTOR: Neither have I.
SIBYL: If we hadn't arrived when we did, they'd have killed one
another.
VICTOR: They must have been drunk.
SIBYL: She hit him.
VICTOR: He'd probably hit her, too, earlier on.
SIBYL: I'd no idea anyone ever behaved like that; it's so
disgusting, so degrading, Elli of all people -- oh dear
[She almost breaks down again, but controls herself.]
VICTOR: What an escape you've had.
SIBYL: What an escape we've both had.
[AMANDA opens her door and looks out. She is wearing travelling
clothes, and is carrying a small suitcase. She
jumps, upon seeing SIBYL and VICTOR.]
AMANDA: Oh!--good morning.
VICTOR [with infinite reproach in his voice]: Oh, Amanda.
AMANDA: Will you please move this sofa, I can't get out.
[VICTOR moves the sofa, and she advances into the room and
goes towards the door.]
VICTOR: Where are you going?
AMANDA: Away.
VICTOR: You can't.
AMANDA: Why not?
VICTOR: I want to talk to you.
AMANDA [wearily]: What on earth is the use of that?
VICTOR: I must talk to you.
AMANDA: Well, all I can say is, it's very inconsiderate.
[She plumps the bag down by the door and comes down to
VICTOR.]
VICTOR: Mandy, I...
AMANDA [gracefully determined to rise above the situation]: I
suppose you're Sibyl; how do you do? [SIBYL turns her back
on her] Well, if you're going to take up that attitude, I fail to
see the point of your coming here at all.
SIBYL: I came to see Elyot.
AMANDA: I've no wish to prevent you; he's in there, probably
wallowing in an alcoholic stupor.
VICTOR: This is all very unpleasant, Amanda.
AMANDA: I quite agree, that's why I want to go away.
VICTOR: That would be shirking; this must be discussed at length.
AMANDA: Very well, if you insist, but not just now, I don't
feel up to it. Has Louise come yet?
VICTOR: If Louise is the maid, she's in the kitchen.
AMANDA: Thank you. You'd probably like some coffee, excuse me a
moment.
[She goes off into the kitchen.]
SIBYL: Well! How dare she?
VICTOR [irritably]: How dare she what?
SIBYL: Behave so calmly, as though nothing had happened.
VICTOR: I don't see what else she could have done.
SIBYL: Insufferable I call it.
[ELYOT opens his door and looks out.]
ELYOT [seeing them]: Oh God.
[He shuts the door again quickly].
SIBYL: Elyot--Elyot-[She rushes over to the door and bangs
on it] Elyot--Elyot--Elyot
ELYOT [inside]: Go away.
SIBYL [falling on to the sofa]: Oh, oh, oh.
[She bursts into tears again.]
VICTOR: Do pull yourself together for heaven's sake.
SIBYL: I can't, I can't -- oh, oh, oh
[AMANDA re-enters.]
AMANDA: I've ordered some coffee and rolls, they'll be here
soon. I must apologize for the room being so untidy.
[She picks up a cushion, and pats it into place on the sofa.
There is a silence except for SIBYL'S sobs. AMANDA looks at
her, and then at VICTOR; then she goes off into her room again,
and shuts the door.]
VICTOR: It's no use crying like that, it doesn't do any good.
[After a moment, during which SIBYL makes renewed efforts to
control her tears, ELYOT opens the door immediately behind
her, pushes the sofa, with her on it, out of the way, and walks
towards the front door. He is in travelling clothes, and carrying
a small suitcase.]
SIBYL [rushing after him]: Elyot, where are you going?
ELYOT: Canada.
SIBYL: You can't go like this, you can't.
ELYOT: I see no point in staying.
VICTOR: You owe it to Sibyl to stay.
ELYOT: How do you do, I don't think we've met before.
SIBYL: You must stay, you've got to stay.
ELYOT: Very well, if you insist. [He plumps his bag down]
I'm afraid the room is in rather a mess. Have you seen the
maid Louise?
VICTOR: She's in the kitchen.
ELYOT: Good. I'll order some coffee.
[He makes a movement towards the kitchen.]
VICTOR [stopping him]: No, your--er--my--er--Amanda has
already ordered it.
ELYOT: Oh, I'm glad the old girl's up and about.
VICTOR: We've got to get things straightened out, you know.
ELYOT [looking around the room]: Yes, it's pretty awful. We'll get
the concierge up from downstairs.
VICTOR: You're being purposely flippant, but it's no good.
ELYOT: Sorry.
[He lapses into silence.]
VICTOR [after a pause]: What's to be done?
ELYOT: I don't know.
SIBYL [with spirit]: It's all perfectly horrible. I feel smirched
and unclean as though slimy things had been crawling all
over me.
ELYOT: Maybe they have; that's a very old sofa.
VICTOR: If you don't stop your damned flippancy, I'll knock
your head off.
ELYOT [raising his eyebrows]: Has it ever struck you that
flippancy might cover a very real embarrassment?
VICTOR: In a situation such as this, it's in extremely bad taste.
ELYOT: No worse than bluster and invective. As a matter of
fact, as far as I know, this situation is entirely without precedent.
We have no prescribed etiquette to fall back upon. I shall continue
to be flippant.
SIBYL: Oh Elyot, how can you -- how can you.
ELYOT: I'm awfully sorry, Sibyl.
VICTOR: It's easy enough to be sorry.
ELYOT: On the contrary. I find it exceedingly difficult. I seldom
regret anything. This is a very rare and notable exception,
a sort of red letter day. We must all make the most of it.
SIBYL: I'll never forgive you, never. I wouldn't have believed
anyone could be so callous and cruel.
ELYOT: I absolutely see your point, and as I said before, I'm sorry.
[There is silence for a moment. Then AMANDA comes in again.
She has obviously decided to carry everything off in a high
handed manner.]
AMANDA [in social tones]: What! Breakfast not ready yet?
Really, these French servants are too slow for words. [She
smiles gaily] What a glorious morning. [She goes to the window]
I do love Paris, it's so genuinely gay. Those lovely trees
in the Champs Elysees, and the little roundabouts for the
children to play on, and those shiny red taxis. You can see
Sacre Coeur quite clearly today; sometimes it's a bit misty,
particularly in August, all the heat rising up from the
pavements you know.
ELYOT [drily]: Yes, dear, we know.
AMANDA [ignoring him]: And it's heavenly being so high up.
I found this flat three years ago, quite by merest chance.
I happened to be staying at the Plaza Athenee, just down the
road
ELYOT [enthusiastically]: Such a nice hotel, with the most
enchanting courtyard with a fountain that goes
plopplopplopplopplopplopplopplopplop
VICTOR: This is ridiculous, Amanda.
ELYOT [continuing]: Plop plop plop plop plop plop plop plop
plop plop --
AMANDA [overriding him]: Now, Victor, I refuse to discuss
anything in the least important until after breakfast. I
couldn't concentrate now, I know I couldn't.
ELYOT [sarcastically]: What manner. What poise. How I envy
it. To be able to carry off the most embarrassing situation
with such tact, and delicacy, and above all--such subtlety.
Go on Amanda, you're making everything so much easier.
We shall all be playing Hunt the Slipper in a minute.
AMANDA: Please don't address me, I don't wish to speak to you.
ELYOT: Splendid.
AMANDA: And what's more, I never shall again as long as I live.
ELYOT: I shall endeavor to rise above it.
AMANDA: I've been brought up to believe that it's beyond
the pale for a man to strike a woman.
ELYOT: A very poor tradition. Certain women should be struck
regularly, like gongs.
AMANDA: You're an unmitigated cad, and a bully.
ELYOT: And you're an ill-mannered, bad-tempered slattern.
AMANDA [loudly]: Slattern indeed.
ELYOT: Yes, slattern, slattern, slattern, and fishwife.
VICTOR: Keep your mouth shut, you swine.
ELYOT: Mind your own damned business.
[They are about to fight, when SIBYL rushes between them.]
SIBYL: Stop, stop, it's no use going on like this. Stop, please.
[TO AMANDA] Help me, do, do, do, help me
AMANDA: I'm not going to interfere. Let them fight if they
want to; it will probably clear the air anyhow.
SIBYL: Yes but-
AMANDA: Come into my room; perhaps you'd like to wash or something.
SIBYL: No, but-
AMANDA [firmly]: Come along.
SIBYL: Very well.
[She tosses her head at ELYOT, and AMANDA drags her off.]
VICTOR [belligerently]: Now then!
Coward was born in 1899 in Teddington, Middlesex, a suburb of London. His parents were Arthur Sabin Coward (1856–1937), a piano salesman, and Violet Agnes Coward (1863–1954), daughter of Henry Gordon Veitch, a captain and surveyor in the Royal Navy. Noël Coward was the second of their three sons, the eldest of whom had died in 1898 at the age of six. Coward's father lacked ambition and industry, and family finances were often poor. Coward was bitten by the performing bug early and appeared in amateur concerts by the age of seven. He attended the Chapel Royal Choir School as a young child.
My Character is Eliot. he is a very charming fellow and keeps his head up high. His character is a very well mannered man and also a gentleman.
private lives script act 3
SIBYL: What are we to do?
VICTOR [with determination]: Wake them ourselves.
[He goes towards AMANDA'S door.]
SIBYL: No, no, wait a minute.
VICTOR: What's the matter?
SIBYL [plaintively]: I couldn't face them yet, really, I couldn't; I feel
dreadful.
VICTOR: So do I. [He wanders gloomily over to the window] It's a lovely
morning.
SIBYL: Lovely.
[She bursts into tears.]
VICTOR [coming to her]: I say, don't cry.
SIBYL: I can't help it.
VICTOR: Please don't, please-
SIBYL: It's all so squalid; I wish we hadn't stayed; what's the use?
VICTOR: We've got to see them before we go back to England, we
must get things straightened out.
SIBYL [sinking down on to the sofa]: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I wish I
were dead.
VICTOR: Hush, now, hush. Remember your promise. We've got to
see this through together and get it settled one way or another.
SIBYL [sniffling]: I'll try to control myself, only I'm so ... so tired, I
haven't slept properly for ages.
VICTOR: Neither have I.
SIBYL: If we hadn't arrived when we did, they'd have killed one
another.
VICTOR: They must have been drunk.
SIBYL: She hit him.
VICTOR: He'd probably hit her, too, earlier on.
SIBYL: I'd no idea anyone ever behaved like that; it's so
disgusting, so degrading, Elli of all people -- oh dear
[She almost breaks down again, but controls herself.]
VICTOR: What an escape you've had.
SIBYL: What an escape we've both had.
[AMANDA opens her door and looks out. She is wearing travelling
clothes, and is carrying a small suitcase. She
jumps, upon seeing SIBYL and VICTOR.]
AMANDA: Oh!--good morning.
VICTOR [with infinite reproach in his voice]: Oh, Amanda.
AMANDA: Will you please move this sofa, I can't get out.
[VICTOR moves the sofa, and she advances into the room and
goes towards the door.]
VICTOR: Where are you going?
AMANDA: Away.
VICTOR: You can't.
AMANDA: Why not?
VICTOR: I want to talk to you.
AMANDA [wearily]: What on earth is the use of that?
VICTOR: I must talk to you.
AMANDA: Well, all I can say is, it's very inconsiderate.
[She plumps the bag down by the door and comes down to
VICTOR.]
VICTOR: Mandy, I...
AMANDA [gracefully determined to rise above the situation]: I
suppose you're Sibyl; how do you do? [SIBYL turns her back
on her] Well, if you're going to take up that attitude, I fail to
see the point of your coming here at all.
SIBYL: I came to see Elyot.
AMANDA: I've no wish to prevent you; he's in there, probably
wallowing in an alcoholic stupor.
VICTOR: This is all very unpleasant, Amanda.
AMANDA: I quite agree, that's why I want to go away.
VICTOR: That would be shirking; this must be discussed at length.
AMANDA: Very well, if you insist, but not just now, I don't
feel up to it. Has Louise come yet?
VICTOR: If Louise is the maid, she's in the kitchen.
AMANDA: Thank you. You'd probably like some coffee, excuse me a
moment.
[She goes off into the kitchen.]
SIBYL: Well! How dare she?
VICTOR [irritably]: How dare she what?
SIBYL: Behave so calmly, as though nothing had happened.
VICTOR: I don't see what else she could have done.
SIBYL: Insufferable I call it.
[ELYOT opens his door and looks out.]
ELYOT [seeing them]: Oh God.
[He shuts the door again quickly].
SIBYL: Elyot--Elyot-[She rushes over to the door and bangs
on it] Elyot--Elyot--Elyot
ELYOT [inside]: Go away.
SIBYL [falling on to the sofa]: Oh, oh, oh.
[She bursts into tears again.]
VICTOR: Do pull yourself together for heaven's sake.
SIBYL: I can't, I can't -- oh, oh, oh
[AMANDA re-enters.]
AMANDA: I've ordered some coffee and rolls, they'll be here
soon. I must apologize for the room being so untidy.
[She picks up a cushion, and pats it into place on the sofa.
There is a silence except for SIBYL'S sobs. AMANDA looks at
her, and then at VICTOR; then she goes off into her room again,
and shuts the door.]
VICTOR: It's no use crying like that, it doesn't do any good.
[After a moment, during which SIBYL makes renewed efforts to
control her tears, ELYOT opens the door immediately behind
her, pushes the sofa, with her on it, out of the way, and walks
towards the front door. He is in travelling clothes, and carrying
a small suitcase.]
SIBYL [rushing after him]: Elyot, where are you going?
ELYOT: Canada.
SIBYL: You can't go like this, you can't.
ELYOT: I see no point in staying.
VICTOR: You owe it to Sibyl to stay.
ELYOT: How do you do, I don't think we've met before.
SIBYL: You must stay, you've got to stay.
ELYOT: Very well, if you insist. [He plumps his bag down]
I'm afraid the room is in rather a mess. Have you seen the
maid Louise?
VICTOR: She's in the kitchen.
ELYOT: Good. I'll order some coffee.
[He makes a movement towards the kitchen.]
VICTOR [stopping him]: No, your--er--my--er--Amanda has
already ordered it.
ELYOT: Oh, I'm glad the old girl's up and about.
VICTOR: We've got to get things straightened out, you know.
ELYOT [looking around the room]: Yes, it's pretty awful. We'll get
the concierge up from downstairs.
VICTOR: You're being purposely flippant, but it's no good.
ELYOT: Sorry.
[He lapses into silence.]
VICTOR [after a pause]: What's to be done?
ELYOT: I don't know.
SIBYL [with spirit]: It's all perfectly horrible. I feel smirched
and unclean as though slimy things had been crawling all
over me.
ELYOT: Maybe they have; that's a very old sofa.
VICTOR: If you don't stop your damned flippancy, I'll knock
your head off.
ELYOT [raising his eyebrows]: Has it ever struck you that
flippancy might cover a very real embarrassment?
VICTOR: In a situation such as this, it's in extremely bad taste.
ELYOT: No worse than bluster and invective. As a matter of
fact, as far as I know, this situation is entirely without precedent.
We have no prescribed etiquette to fall back upon. I shall continue
to be flippant.
SIBYL: Oh Elyot, how can you -- how can you.
ELYOT: I'm awfully sorry, Sibyl.
VICTOR: It's easy enough to be sorry.
ELYOT: On the contrary. I find it exceedingly difficult. I seldom
regret anything. This is a very rare and notable exception,
a sort of red letter day. We must all make the most of it.
SIBYL: I'll never forgive you, never. I wouldn't have believed
anyone could be so callous and cruel.
ELYOT: I absolutely see your point, and as I said before, I'm sorry.
[There is silence for a moment. Then AMANDA comes in again.
She has obviously decided to carry everything off in a high
handed manner.]
AMANDA [in social tones]: What! Breakfast not ready yet?
Really, these French servants are too slow for words. [She
smiles gaily] What a glorious morning. [She goes to the window]
I do love Paris, it's so genuinely gay. Those lovely trees
in the Champs Elysees, and the little roundabouts for the
children to play on, and those shiny red taxis. You can see
Sacre Coeur quite clearly today; sometimes it's a bit misty,
particularly in August, all the heat rising up from the
pavements you know.
ELYOT [drily]: Yes, dear, we know.
AMANDA [ignoring him]: And it's heavenly being so high up.
I found this flat three years ago, quite by merest chance.
I happened to be staying at the Plaza Athenee, just down the
road
ELYOT [enthusiastically]: Such a nice hotel, with the most
enchanting courtyard with a fountain that goes
plopplopplopplopplopplopplopplopplop
VICTOR: This is ridiculous, Amanda.
ELYOT [continuing]: Plop plop plop plop plop plop plop plop
plop plop --
AMANDA [overriding him]: Now, Victor, I refuse to discuss
anything in the least important until after breakfast. I
couldn't concentrate now, I know I couldn't.
ELYOT [sarcastically]: What manner. What poise. How I envy
it. To be able to carry off the most embarrassing situation
with such tact, and delicacy, and above all--such subtlety.
Go on Amanda, you're making everything so much easier.
We shall all be playing Hunt the Slipper in a minute.
AMANDA: Please don't address me, I don't wish to speak to you.
ELYOT: Splendid.
AMANDA: And what's more, I never shall again as long as I live.
ELYOT: I shall endeavor to rise above it.
AMANDA: I've been brought up to believe that it's beyond
the pale for a man to strike a woman.
ELYOT: A very poor tradition. Certain women should be struck
regularly, like gongs.
AMANDA: You're an unmitigated cad, and a bully.
ELYOT: And you're an ill-mannered, bad-tempered slattern.
AMANDA [loudly]: Slattern indeed.
ELYOT: Yes, slattern, slattern, slattern, and fishwife.
VICTOR: Keep your mouth shut, you swine.
ELYOT: Mind your own damned business.
[They are about to fight, when SIBYL rushes between them.]
SIBYL: Stop, stop, it's no use going on like this. Stop, please.
[TO AMANDA] Help me, do, do, do, help me
AMANDA: I'm not going to interfere. Let them fight if they
want to; it will probably clear the air anyhow.
SIBYL: Yes but-
AMANDA: Come into my room; perhaps you'd like to wash or something.
SIBYL: No, but-
AMANDA [firmly]: Come along.
SIBYL: Very well.
[She tosses her head at ELYOT, and AMANDA drags her off.]
VICTOR [belligerently]: Now then!
brecht
Epic Theatre proposed that a play should not cause the spectator to identify emotionally with the characters or action before him or her, but should instead provoke rational self-reflection and a critical view of the action on the stage. Brecht thought that the experience of a climactic catharsis of emotion left an audience complacent. Instead, he wanted his audiences to adopt a critical perspective in order to recognise social injustice and exploitation and to be moved to go forth from the theatre and effect change in the world outside. For this purpose, Brecht employed the use of techniques that remind the spectator that the play is a representation of reality and not reality itself. By highlighting the constructed nature of the theatrical event, Brecht hoped to communicate that the audience's reality was equally constructed and, as such, was changeable.
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