by Ned Manning
NED MANNING is a writer, actor and teacher. He has written many plays for adults and young people. Among his published plays are Us or Them, Milo, Close to the Bone and Luck of the Draw as well as short plays in the anthologies Short Circuit and No Nudity, Weapons or Naked Flames. Other plays for adults include Kenny’s Coming Home and Last One Standing. His latest play, Tsunami, was shortlisted for the STC’s Patrick White Award in 2015.
Ned’s plays for young people include Alice Dreaming, Gods of War, Women of Troy (adapted from Euripides’ original drama, The Trojan Women) and Shakespeare for Australian Schools. He was nominated for an AWGIE for Romeo and Juliet Intensive, a play for young people that moves between Shakespeare’s world and contemporary Australia. The script was written for The Bell Shakespeare Company’s Actors at Work program, and toured all over Australia.
His radio adaptation of Women of Troy was nominated for the Prix Marulic Festival of Radio Drama in Croatia in 2013. Ned’s first work of nonfiction, Playground Duty, is a celebration of the teaching profession and a survival guide for young teachers.
As an actor, Ned has appeared in some of Australia’s most loved film, television and theatre productions including: Looking for Alibrandi, Offspring, The Shiralee, Bodyline and Aftershocks. He starred in the 1980’s cult classic Dead End Drive-In. His latest appearance was in the 2014 feature film, The Menkoff Method.
Ned has worked as a teacher and dramaturg, designing playwriting courses for youth and adults. He is committed to working with playwrights of all ages and providing them with support and professional guidance.
SHANE MCNAMARA is a professional actor and songwriter. He released his first album, ‘Nasty Habit’, in the mid-eighties and has subsequently performed on numerous albums in his role of Rat in a Hat in the children’s series ‘Bananas in Pyjamas’. He also penned the hit ‘Banana Holiday’. Kenny’s Coming Home was his first fully staged musical..
Kenny’s Coming Home was first produced by Q Theatre, Penrith, on 16 November 1991, with the following cast:
MUM Michelle Fawdon
AUNT DOROTHY Melissa Jaffer
KENNY David James
KIM Rebecca Hickey
DAD Duncan Wass
Director, Helmut Bakaitis
Designer, Judith Hoddinott
Lighting designer, Bruce McKendry
Choreography, Geoffrey Jenkins
CHARACTERS
KIM
A.D. (Aunt Dorothy), Dad’s elder sister
MUM
DAD
KENNY
SETTING
Penrith 1990. A suburban home, modestly decorated. A TV set is prominent. The set is dominated by trophies, photos and memorabilia from the Penrith Panthers Golden Years. Son Kenny is prominent in these. Alongside them, in a position which in another time we may have seen a photograph of the queen, is a photograph of Ben Chifley. The house then, is a shrine to the Penrith Panthers and the Australian Labor Party, with the TV running a near third.
The other major features are a window that opens to the vegetable garden, a door that leads to the kitchen and a door to the outside world.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE
During the opening song montages are established of KIM with a schoolbag, MUM doing domestics, DAD watering the garden and A.D. having a drink.
SONG: ‘MONDAY TO SUNDAY’
KIM: Jesus, what a bloody day it’s so hot
Garden looks as though it’s going to rot
God I wish I was still in Balmain
Diving into the swimming pool again
Or take a bus down to the beach
Living in the west it seems out of reach
A.D.: Jesus, bugger of a day it’s so hot
Garden looks as though it’s going to rot
God I wish I was still in Balmain
Chatting with Flo across the lane
Taking a train into the city
Compared to here it was bloody pretty
ALL: [Chorus] Monday seems to be a lot like Friday
Sunday mustn’t be confused with Tuesday
Wednesday just hangs about
Thursday I’ve got my doubts
Saturday well it’s not too bad
And there you go that’s the week I’ve had
ALL: What are we gonna do?
The choices here are few
What’s to do, what’s to do?
KIM: When
ALL: [Chorus] Monday seems to be a lot like Friday
Sunday mustn’t be confused with Tuesday
Wednesday just hangs about
Thursday I’ve got my doubts
Saturday well it’s not too bad
And there you go that’s the week I’ve had
MUM & KIM: [Chorus] Monday seems to be a lot like Friday
Sunday mustn’t be confused with Tuesday
Wednesday just hangs about
Thursday I’ve got my doubts
Saturday well it’s not too bad
And there you go that’s the week I’ve had
DAD & A.D.: [sung simultaneously with above chorus]
Every day’s the same
Every day’s the same
Every day’s the same.
They disappear as the song ends.
Lighting change. Late afternoon.
A schoolbag flies through the window, followed by KIM. She is a confident teenager with a worldly wisdom that belies her years. She addresses the audience, lighting a cigarette as she does so.
KIM: Hi! Pretty hot, eh? I tell ya, the winds out here are a killer. Mind you, they’re nothing here compared to Mount Druitt, they really sort you out. My name’s Kim.
Kim Green. Year Twelve Penrith High, school vice-captain, hockey rep, average student, so Mr Gould says, but what would he know? He only says that because he’s the football coach. The only reason he pays me any attention at all is because I’m Kenny’s sister and as everyone with half a brain knows, Kenny was one of the best footballers the Panthers ever had.
My brother Kenny is what you call a legend. You don’t have to be dead to be a legend, as long as you’ve played for the mighty Penrith Panthers. Kenny won more trophies than most of you have had hot dinners. He was there as the club began its rise from the ashes, leading from the front, never taking a backward step and all those other clichés.
He led the side into the play-off with Balmain in eighty-eight, where we were robbed, and promptly retired.
‘Work commitments’. Oh yeah, piss-weak excuse. I reckon Irene put the pressure on him.
I tell ya, woudda brought a tear to his eyes to see the boys’ fantastic win this year, ’specially with his old mate Roycie scoring a couple of meat pies.
Anyway, eventually he pissed off, to Adelaide. Adelaide! I mean, they don’t even play footy there, just Aussie Rules. I tell you, Dad still hasn’t recovered. He reckoned Kenny was a future MP for sure, especially if he captained the Panthers to a premiership win.
We used to live in Balmain, before the trendies moved in. We lived in a cottage near Dawn Fraser’s pool, but then some yuppie management consultants offered us so much money for the place we couldn’t refuse. A.D. was horrified, but Dad saw it as a good career move both workwise and politically. You see Dad always fantasised about becoming a politician, reckons Granddad wanted one of his family to go into parliament.
Dad goes to political meetings all the time. Gee, I reckon Mum still misses her mates in Balmain, and her job. A.D. did, till she discovered bingo at Panthers.
We used to have singalong. Mum sang all these really daggy songs, like:
‘She wore an itsy bitsy teeny weeny
Yellow polka dot bikini …’
God! Sexist or what! And rave, Mum used to rave about Johnny
O’Keefe and Elvis the Pelvis. Dad loved Herman’s Hermits, whoever they were. Kenny was into heavy metal and Bobby Fulton, even though he played for Manly. Uggh! Deep Purple. You know …
She performs a few bars of a Deep Purple classic.
He had a poster of Suzi Quatro hanging above his bed. I caught him wanking over her one night and bribed a packet of Winnie Blues outta him. Told him I’d tell his girlfriend. Wouldn’t do now he’s a partner in an architectural firm. One of Adelaide’s most progressive Irene reckons. Trendies!
AUNT DOROTHY enters.
A.D.: Hello, Kim darling. School over already?
KIM: Yes. Hi, A.D, thought I’d get a bit of homework done. Trials are coming up soon.
A.D.: That’s a good girl.
She peers out the window.
Yes, the sun’s over the yardarm, time for a little snifter.
She helps herself to a generous brandy.
Hot, isn’t it, dear? You know, I still haven’t got used to being away from the harbour breeze.
She turns on a little propeller-like fan and holds it close to her face.
So, what are you studying now?
KIM: Australian History. We’re doing all that stuff about de Groot and Jack Lang.
Must’ve been pretty wild, de Groot galloping across the Bridge like that, bet the old stuffed shirts got a bit of a shock!
A.D.: De Groot, my dear, was a fascist, member of an organisation called the New Guard.
KIM: Yeah, I know.
A.D.: I hope they’re telling history like it was, not through rose-coloured glasses. Life was pretty tough for the working class in those days, you know. At least Jack Lang had his heart in the right place, at least he was a Labor man. Ironical that Keating should hero-worship him.
KIM: Yeah.
A.D.: You know, in my day the Labor Party wouldn’t have dreamt of protecting these white collar criminals like they do today. I tell you bloody what, if I had my way people like Bond and Elliott would be behind bars. And I’d throw away the keys.
KIM: Yeah, yeah.
A.D.: If it wasn’t for the Liberals being the born-to-rule leeches that they are, I’d have abandoned the Labor Party years ago.
KIM: Yes, well I better get to work, A.D. … a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
A.D.: Hey, Kim, come here. Ask your teacher about the formation of the DLP.
KIM: What?
A.D.: Ask your teacher why the DLP was formed. When he tells you if it was a right-wing movement you tell him he’s wrong. You tell him it was formed as a left-wing movement before it was taken over by the Catholic right. That’ll stump him.
KIM: Her.
A.D.: Eh?
KIM: Her, Miss Eddington is a her. See ya, A.D.
KIM exits to do her homework.
A.D.: Eddington. Was that the fellow who formed BHP? No, I think that might have been Essington something. Ah-ha! Might just slip down for a quiet beer before the branch meeting. Need something to liven this place up a bit, can’t even get a good argument anymore. God love you, Chif.
She exits, saluting the picture of Ben Chifley as she goes.
KIM runs in and grabs a portable radio. She turns it on.
RADIO: Here is a quick newsflash. The Member for Penrith, Derek Brennan, has had a heart attack playing squash. His condition is believed to be critical. This is bad news for the Labor government as a by-election is the last thing they need, even if the seat is one of the safest Labor seats in the country.
This is radio 2KA, playing hot hits and favourites.
The radio plays something wildly inappropriate.
KIM: [exiting] Sensitively handled.
SCENE TWO
MUM enters, carrying groceries.
She sings to the TV.
SONG: ‘BOREDOM AFTER TEA’
MUM: Good Lord, that’s better
Oh dear what a day
Traffic, unbelievable
Oh that’s a nice frock
Yes, Kim would look
So nice in one of those
Oh no, he’s ugly, got such a pointy nose
And here I sit watchin’ the TV
Oh it’s five p.m. Dad’ll be on the train about now
Better get the tea on. About now
Better get the tea on
Oh no, not him
God woman, where’s your taste?
That’s right, I agree
Should do something ’bout her hair though
Looks silly, looks ridiculous
Looks a bit like mine really
Oh no, the one in blue, he’s more the one for you
And here I sit watchin’ the TV
Oh it’s five p.m. Dad’ll be on the train about now
MUM is joined by voices from offstage:
ALL: Better get the tea on. About now
Better get the tea on
ALL: [Chorus] At times I think of life without TV
And all I see is boredom after tea
Game shows, movies, it all pleases me
Saves me from the boredom after tea
Saves me from the boredom after tea
MUM: Oh no, he’s ugly, got such a pointy nose
That’s new, looks good, must be better than mine
And that girl, lovely teeth
I’ve seen her somewhere before
That’s right, in that soap, she was the prostitute
She was good, did all the covers
Wonder what happened to her?
ALL: [Chorus] At times I think of life without TV
And all I see is boredom after tea
Game shows, movies, it all pleases me
Boredom after tea
Saves me from the boredom after tea
Saves me from the boredom after tea.
MUM dozes off. The song has constituted a passage of time.
KIM enters and addresses MUM.
KIM: Mum! Mum, are you with us?
MUM: Eh? Oh, you’re home already, I was just watching …
KIM: Any specials?
MUM: Ooh. It’s still hot, isn’t it? Wish it’d rain.
KIM: Shit, Mum, the ice-cream’s melted! Yuk!
She licks the ice-cream with her finger. MUM watches TV.
Wanna lick?
MUM: Oh no, I’ve missed ‘Empty Boxes’.
KIM: Carn, Mum, have a finger.
MUM: Grab us a pen, dear. I tried that stuff and it didn’t make the sheets any whiter, made them greyer if anything. This is a story for ‘The Investigators’, just the sort of thing Helen Wellings could get her teeth into.
KIM hands MUM pen and paper, still licking the ice-cream and now mesmerised by the TV.
It’s high time these charlatans were exposed. There you go, another one. How on earth can one sanitary pad be softer than another, look at that girl!
KIM: I never feel like that when I get a period.
MUM: False advertising.
KIM: I like this show.
MUM: It occurred to me today that shopping just isn’t the fun it used to be. I mean, when we lived in Balmain you could have a bit of a chat, wander about. The girls in the supermarket here are either dead or they bite your head off.
KIM: I like Darryl Somers, he’s cute.
MUM: Graham Kennedy used to do that show, it was funnier then.
KIM: Like a cuppa? Mum?
MUM: Love one.
KIM: Can I scab a fag?
MUM: I suppose so, don’t tell Dad.
KIM: I’ll put the shopping away.
MUM: You after something?
KIM: Mum!
KIM takes a cigarette, then another, and exits with the shopping.
MUM: If that’s cute, I’ll give up. Toe! Must be, can’t be anything else. Mmm, I suppose it could be head. Perhaps it’s foot. Clive was angry with Claude when he dropped a brick on his ‘blank’. Has to be toe.
KIM: [off] Did you hear that Mr Brennan dropped dead playing squash?
MUM: Quick, dear.
KIM:
[off] Dad’ll be upset.
MUM: Here!
KIM rushes in.
KIM: What?
MUM: What do you think, dear?
KIM: About what?
MUM: This. ‘Clive was angry with Claude when he dropped a brick on his …’ I reckon it’s toe. Has to be.
KIM: Bananas.
MUM: Very funny.
KIM: Did you hear …?
MUM: Here we go. Toe, foot, toe, head, head, head. Well well, there you go.
KIM: What’s this?
She picks up a parcel.
MUM: What? Oh, that. You weren’t meant to see that. It’s a surprise.
KIM: For me?
MUM: Well, it’s not for Kenny, is it?
KIM: Thanks, Mum.
She tears open the parcel, revealing a Johnny O’Keefe album.
Johnny O’Keefe? Who’s he when he’s at home?
MUM: Just the greatest singer this country ever produced.
KIM: God! Look at the clothes.
MUM: The Wild One.
KIM: Nineteen fifty-seven! You’re kidding.
MUM: Thanks, Mum.
KIM: Oh, no, I mean it’s great. Really. It’s a lovely surprise.
MUM: Well, I thought seeing as you’re so keen on dancing, I thought I might show you a few of the songs I used to know and maybe a few of the dances … you know, if you’re interested.
KIM: Sure, Mum, that’d be great.
MUM sings ‘Six O’Clock Rock’ and begins to dance.
As she is transported into her past, KIM addresses the audience.
That’s my mum. How embarrassing. I mean, how do you deal with parents? I never thought she’d settle in here after we left Balmain. She kinda has, though. Anyway, I like Penrith. The people are real out here. I’m glad we left Balmain … there’s only so many trendoids one person can stand. You know they didn’t even have a Labor Member there for a while. Can you believe that, it’s the birthplace of the Labor Party too. Anyway, it’ll be unrecognisable soon, once the developers finish with it. A.D. reckons the Labor Party isn’t true to its roots anymore. I suppose she’d know; she’s been a member for nearly fifty years. We’re all members. It’s great at branch meetings when Dad and A.D. get stuck into each other. Mum mediates, she often takes the minutes. I’m one of the youngest members in our branch. I took Spud, my ex, but he got bored. Got the concentration span of a gnat. That’s why he’s my ex.
MUM snaps out of her dancing, J O’K has taken her to another place.