One Jewish Boy
Page 1
Stephen Laughton
ONE
JEWISH
BOY
NICK HERN BOOKS
London
www.nickhernbooks.co.uk
Contents
Original Production
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Characters
Note on Text
One Jewish Boy
Three
Introduction
About the Author
Copyright and Performing Rights Information
One Jewish Boy was first performed at the Old Red Lion Theatre, London, on 11 December 2018, with the following cast:
JESSE
Robert Neumark-Jones
ALEX
Asha Reid
Director
Sarah Meadows
Producer
Ed Littlewood
Associate Producer
Liv Edmunds
Designer
Georgia de Grey
Composer
Benedict Taylor
Lighting Designer
Lucy Adams
Stage Manager
Heather Christie
Assistant Director
Katerina Constantinidou
Set Build
Lee McFadyen
Graffiti
Hannah Lawrence
Movement
Tina Barnes & Rachel Harper
Acknowledgements
The seeds of this play were once again sown at Courting Drama at the Southwark Playhouse earlier in 2018, so I want to thank Ryan Forde Iosco and Mathew McQuinn for asking me back and getting this journey started. The version we did was a whole other thing, but it was a hugely important stepping stone to this play, so a HUGE thank-you to Maud Dromgoole, Lauren Cooney and Olivia Ross. I love that our baby gave birth to this baby.
The creative team on this play have been incredible and it’s been great to cement previous collaborations – Asha Reid (you basically always have a role), Heather Christie (so lovely to have you back!), Lucy (you’ve got through half of Playdate now – I want all the others lit by the end of next year!); work again with old friends – Liv and Ti (I love you both, you’re two of my best friends and it’s so wonderful to still be making shit together all these years after drama school!); and start whole new relationships… (Robert – you’re my only Jewish boy, Ed – don’t ever leave me; Georgia and Benedict – I’m so bowled over by what you’ve created, have been a fan from afar so it’s wonderful to finally work with you; and Katerina – it’s wonderful to work with someone right at the start of their career, you’ve been excellent, thank you.) I really can’t thank you all enough. Your excitement, encouragement, talent and hard work has been amazing, and I’ve loved making this with you. Extra special thanks to Sarah, you’re brilliant and not just a favourite director but a favourite person… You’ve made me laugh, you’ve challenged and pushed what this play can be, and you’ve kept me sane. I’m so glad we got a project up together. I hope we get to do more.
John, Matt and Sarah Liisa at Nick Hern Books – it’s always lovely publishing
a play with you.
To Playdate – Dave Ralf, Isley Lynn, Chris Adams, Poppy Corbett, Vinay Patel and Sarah Kosar – you’re my spine. Thank you for the love and support and the fun.
Nick Quinn, Alfie Coates and The Agency team. Thank you for looking after me.
Katy and the ORL team, you’ve been behind this from the start, your faith and confidence in me, us and this project has been just super. Thank you.
Luke Johnson, The Mackintosh Foundation, Jan and Mark Bloomfield. Thank you so much for all the production support.
To Anoushka Warden and to Aaron Nathaniel for all the PR help… thank you!
HUGE huge really big thanks to Dan Simon and the team at Interim Spaces for their generosity, support and the use of their lovely rehearsal room at Pophub Leicester Square.
Sam Hayes, Sarah Sigal, Olivia McFadyen, Tina Barnes, Amanda Leigh Owen and Paul Bloomfield. You’re my favourite people. I love you.
LM. You saved my life. This is for you. I can’t ever thank you enough.
S.L.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Joy Division
Characters
JESSE
ALEX
They are twenty in 2004, thirty in 2014, and thirty-four by the time we reach 2018.
Jesse is Jewish.
Alex is mixed race.
Note on Text
The usual dots, dashes, slashes for interruptions, broken thoughts, changes of gear, etc.
This ebook was created before the end of rehearsals and so may differ slightly from the play as performed.
2018. A lounge in Walthamstow Village, London
A mural takes over the entire wall.
Boxes. No furniture.
ALEX is awkwardly hovering.
JESSE aiming for (likely failing at) conciliatory…
JESSE. But you’re good, though?
ALEX. I guess.
JESSE. You look well.
ALEX. I look like Hillary Clinton dipped in Elton John.
You look nice / you always look nice.
ALEX. No I don’t.
JESSE. Can I – (do anything?)
ALEX. You look like shit / too…
Are you my mum…?
ALEX. Here we go.
JESSE. What does that mean?
Beat.
ALEX brandishes a large envelope.
ALEX. Don’t have long…
JESSE just stares at it.
Sorry.
JESSE. She’s still sleeping…
ALEX. Your mom said she can pick her up later.
JESSE. You spoke to my mum?
ALEX. About an hour ago.
JESSE. I’ve been trying to call her all morning…
ALEX. She’s taken your nan to the doctor.
Her knee’s all swollen up or some’ing…
JESSE. She didn’t say she was taking her tonight…
Long beat.
ALEX. Got a pen?
JESSE walks off.
JESSE. Somewhere.
Beat.
ALEX. Didn’t think you were moving…?
JESSE (absently, still looking for a pen). It’s a family home.
ALEX (doesn’t take the bait). Do we need to talk ’bout selling?
JESSE (slightly too aggressive for a pen). I can’t find a fucking pen!
ALEX. I’ve got a pen, Jesse.
JESSE. Of course you do.
ALEX (roll of the eyes). You want to make this difficult?
JESSE. I’m not making anything –
He takes the envelope. Ceremoniously takes out the document.
Intensity as he reads the first page.
Beat.
ALEX watches.
JESSE throws it down on to the floor.
Irreconcilable differences…?
Why?
JESSE. Name three of our irreconcilable differences, Alex…
ALEX. I’m not doing this –
JESSE (cuts her off). Because you can’t.
ALEX. Stop it.
JESSE. It’s so official.
ALEX. It’s a line on a bit of paper.
JESSE. Rip it up.
ALEX. No.
JESSE. I dare you.
ALEX. Jesse –
JESSE. Alex…
ALEX. Jesse.
JESSE. Alex.
ALEX. What you doing?
JESSE. I thought we were saying one another’s names…
ALEX shakes her head – she just can’t…
She crosses to the window.
Picks up the Chanukiah… absently picks at the
wax.
(Watching.) Stay for candles if you want –
ALEX. Why?
JESSE. Should’ve seen Poppy’s face last night.
ALEX. I missed her.
JESSE. Spellbound…
Thanks.
Puts the Chanukiah down.
JESSE. I feel like our differences could well be reconciled if we just had a –
ALEX (interrupting). I don’t know why this is a surprise.
JESSE. – conversation.
Maybe cos you know… it’s a slightly overcast but a nonetheless lovely Shabbat morning and you’re having breakfast with your lovely wife and you’re a bit excited about the lovely weekend you had planned ahead and as you’re passing the grapefruit juice to your lovely wife who just gave birth to your lovely daughter you’re suddenly presented with a barked Jesse, Jesse – I want a divorce…
ALEX. That’s not what happened…
They both let it hang. Beat.
We’re completely / toxic… We’ve been at it like Brangelina for months…
JESSE. We just had a baby…! It’s a – Brange-fucking-lina…?
ALEX. I’m not sure why I –
JESSE. Cos Brad Pitt is a narcissist, philandering pothead who slapped his kid about on a plane…?
ALEX. Well, I nearly said Johnny Depp / and Amber…
JESSE. Wife-beater Johnny Depp…?
ALEX. I’m Johnny Depp. Okay? I’m Johnny Depp!
JESSE. There’s a really good chance we wouldn’t be divorcing if you were actually Johnny Depp.
ALEX (smiles). Oh really…?
JESSE. For shit… that is one bromance I would fully consummate…
ALEX breaks the smile and the eye contact first.
Beat.
ALEX. Did you get your solicitor / to –
JESSE. I trust you…
ALEX. Jesse, you need / to get a –
JESSE. How complicated can it be?
Freedom. Check. Baby. Check.
House. Checkmate.
ALEX. That’s not fair we said / you’d stay in the house anyway –
JESSE. I don’t have a solicitor…
ALEX. Your dad’s / a –
JESSE. I’m not letting my dad look at my divorce papers…
ALEX. Why?
JESSE. He already hates you.
ALEX. I get on really well with your dad.
JESSE. He does whatever my mum tells him, so…
ALEX. Well your mum answers my calls…
Beat.
…so…
JESSE. It’s fine. If this is what you want…
Beat. Looks at her – is this what she wants?
Where do I sign?
ALEX. We can’t even agree on where to live!
JESSE. You just hate London. / We don’t even have to live in London.
ALEX. I don’t hate London
I just hate all the people in London.
JESSE. And you think taking her to Paris is going to be any better…?
ALEX. What’s up with Paris?
JESSE. They shoot Jews in supermarkets in Paris. They shoot Jews in Jewish schools in Paris. They burn old Jewish women in their dirty fucking Jew flats. In Paris.
ALEX. Well it’s not like she looks particularly Jewish –
JESSE (interrupting). Great… so I’m the problem.
That’s not what I’m –
JESSE. Please don’t go to Paris.
You haven’t lived in Paris for –
ALEX. My dad is in Paris.
JESSE. My dad’s in Highgate!
ALEX. I don’t know / why that’s –
JESSE. I thought we were having a dad-off?
ALEX. NO ONE NEEDS YOUR SHIT RIGHT NOW.
Beat.
JESSE. I’ll do whatever you want.
I’ll live… wherever you want.
ALEX. Paris?
JESSE. You’ve haven’t lived in Paris since you left uni.
ALEX. It’s where my dad is. It’s where my dad moved. It’s where the only surviving member of my family –
JESSE. We’re your family.
ALEX. Just post them to me when you’ve signed them.
She starts gathering her things.
JESSE. Do you want me to wake her?
ALEX. I need to go.
She starts walking off.
JESSE. I don’t want to post them…
ALEX. So what do you want to do / Jesse?
JESSE. Stay married…
She shakes her head, despair.
We started this together we should at least end it together.
She crosses, touches him. Reassuring.
He takes her hand…
JESSE. We can make this work.
They’re close. Both teary.
ALEX. We keep saying that…
Almost kiss.
The baby cries.
Beat. They peel away.
Stare. ALEX breaks it.
I wanna see Poppy.
ALEX leaves. JESSE sits.
(Offstage.) It’s okay my darling, Mummy’s here…
JESSE listens, as Poppy settles.
His heart breaking as we watch.
ALEX walks back in.
JESSE. I er… I was talking to Joan. Next door… the old –
ALEX. I know who Joan is.
JESSE. Yeah… she was in the garden… asking about the dog.
You. Poppy…
ALEX. That’s nice.
Is she okay?
JESSE. Sure. Yeah…
I’m carrying the recycling and she starts moaning about the council… Feels a bit let down by them. Voted for them. First time in a long time. Wasn’t worth it before she’s a Socialist… haven’t had a Socialist Party in ages.
That Tony Blair wasn’t a Socialist. He should never’ve had the Party asks if I’m voting for ’em and I say not this time. I’ve always voted Labour, but I can’t do it this time…
Oh, you’re a centrist. Like it’s a swear word. She says.
I tell her I wouldn’t go that far but that I’m worried about anti-Semitism in the Party…
And you know she’s never gonna have that… It’s not real anti-Semitism, she says. There’s no real anti-Semitism. She says. So, I tell her, slowly, that it’s real… That it’s very. Very. Real. That there are thousands of complaints, there’s a Met Police investigation.
She’s shaking her head. No, she says. It’s all made up, she says. It’s the Jews.
There it is. The Jews are making it all up.
Want to bring down Jeremy…
Do you know – I tell her – do you know that Jews in Britain have mainly been, historically been Labour supporters? They’re not though. Not really. She says. They’re not REAL Socialists.
Love their money too much.
Why they’re all the bankers!
I’m saying sorry but it’s not an apology, more an actual, are you fucking serious, lady…?
They don’t like Jeremy because he’s a Socialist, she says, think he’ll take their money away!
And I just blurt it, cos frankly by now, just fuck her.
You know I’m Jewish…? You know that don’t you?
I I I didn’t know that my darling, she says. I didn’t know.
And I feel upset, I tell her, I feel sad to hear you believe these things, that you really think thousands of Jews are lying.
That you think that all these Jews are dishonest and manipulative…
Do you really think they’re lying?
And she locks eyes, this little old woman who I speak to every day –
Who I’ve helped, checked in on, worried about…
She locks eyes with me, and without a hint of apology, feeling, care or anything other than cold hard resolve, she says… Yes.
Yes, they are.
Beat.
ALEX. She’s an old woman…
JESSE. So that’s okay?
ALEX. I have to go.
She starts to make her way out.
; JESSE. Don’t leave me please don’t leave me with all this I love you so much Alex and I love our baby and our dog and I don’t I don’t I don’t want to end our marriage I love our marriage I love you I love the way you make me laugh and you’re really hot and the way you smell and your hair I love your hair and you’re so beautiful and I really miss the way you snore actually I used to find it really –
ALEX. Can you stop.
They’re both emotional. Fighting it.
ALEX. I have to leave.
I have to –
Because Poppy.
2012. A hotel balcony overlooking the East Village, New York
City skyline in the background. The Chrysler shining bright, up off Lexington Avenue.
JESSE is vaguely phone-scrolling. Smoking from a vape.
He’s in bed shorts and a superhero T-shirt.
It’s late. 2 a.m. late.
Drizzle.
Long beat as JESSE listens in silence for a while before ALEX enters in an oversized T-shirt.
She watches him.
After a few moments, ALEX takes the vape from him. Inhales. Passes it back.
JESSE. The sound of the rain is perfect.
ALEX. Come back to bed.
JESSE. Don’t you think it’s the perfect noise?
Not all romantic and shit, just as noise, acoustics, chaotic rhythm, the odd car… the noise from the street.
ALEX. Jazz.
JESSE. Where’s the jazz?
ALEX (taps her head). There is always jazz…
Beat.
It’s freezing. Are you not freezing?
JESSE. I like it.
She picks up a blanket from one of the benches. Wraps it around herself.
I’m basically moon-bathing.
ALEX. You’ve got a healthy glow…
Beat. He smiles. She’s about to sit opposite…
JESSE. What you doing? Come here.
She does, snuggles in to him. He pulls her closer, kissing her head as he does.
ALEX. You okay?
JESSE. Pensive.
ALEX. With your posh words.
JESSE. Pensive’s not posh…
ALEX (shrugs – nothing). You wanna fuck?
JESSE. We’re in New York so I guess we’re vaguely obligated…