by Alan Bennett
Pause.
That was last Friday. The book’s got charts where you check your interview score. Mine was 75. Very good to excellent. Actually, I’m surprised they haven’t telephoned.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Lesley, who is now made up and her hair done, sitting in a small bleak room in her dressing-gown. Morning.
You’d never think this frock wasn’t made for me. I said to Scott, who’s Wardrobe, ‘She must be my double.’ He said, ‘No. You’re hers. The stupid cow.’
Talk about last-minute, though. Eleven o‘clock on Tuesday night I’m just wondering about having a run round with the dustette, six o’clock next morning I’m sitting in Lee-on-Solent in make-up. When the phone went telling me I’d got the part I assumed it was Simon. So I said, ‘Hello Simon.’ He said, ‘Try Nigel.’ So I said, ‘Well, Nigel, can you tell Simon that I haven’t let the grass grow under my feet. I now play a rudimentary game of chess.’ He said, ‘I don’t care if you play a championship game of ice hockey, just don’t get pregnant.’
It transpires the girl they’d slated to do the part had been living with a racing driver and of course the inevitable happened, kiddy on the way. So my name was next out of the hat. I said to Scott, ‘I know why. They knew I had ideas about the part.’ He said, ‘They knew you had a 38-inch bust.’ His mother’s confined to a wheelchair, he’s got a lot on his plate.
Anyway, I’m ready. I’ve been ready since yesterday morning. It was long enough before anybody came near. I had a bacon sandwich which Scott went and fetched for me while I was under the dryer. I said, ‘Wasn’t there a croissant?’ He said, ‘In Lee-on-Solent?’ On Tess there were croissants. On Tess there was filter coffee. There was also some liaison.
I wanted to talk to somebody about the part, only Scott said they were out in the speed boat doing mute shots of the coastline. On Tess you were never sitting around. Roman anticipated every eventuality. We filmed in the middle of a forest once and the toilet arrangements were immaculate. There was also provision for a calorie-controlled diet. I said to Scott, ‘I’m not used to working like this.’ He said, ‘Let’s face it, dear. You’re not used to working. Why didn’t you bring your knitting?’ I said, ‘I do not knit, Scott.’ He said, ‘Well, file your nails then, pluck an eyebrow, be like me, do something constructive.’ He’s as thin as a rail and apparently an accomplished pianist and he seems to be make-up as well as wardrobe. On Tess we had three caravans for make-up alone.
Eventually Simon puts his head round the door. I said, ‘Hello, Simon.’ I said, ‘Long time no see. Did Nigel tell you I’ve learned chess?’ He said, ‘Chess? Aren’t you the one who can water-ski?’ I said ‘No.’ He said ‘Bugger’ and disappeared. I said to Scott, ‘Simon’s on the young side for a director.’ He said, ‘Director? He couldn’t direct you to the end of the street. He just does all the running about.’ I said, ‘Who is the director?’ He said, ‘Gunther.’ I said, ‘Gunther? That sounds a continental name.’ He said, ‘Yes. German.’ I said, ‘That’s interesting. I went to Germany once. Dusseldorf.’ He said, ‘Well, you’ll have a lot to talk about.’ I’ve a feeling Scott may be gay. I normally like them only I think he’s one of the ones it’s turned bitter.
I’m still sitting there hours later when this other young fellow comes in. I said, ‘Gunther?’ He said, ‘Nigel.’ I said, ‘We spoke on the phone.’ He said, ‘Yes. I’m about to commit suicide. I’ve just been told. You don’t water-ski.’ I said, ‘Nigel. I could learn. I picked up the skateboard in five minutes.’ He said, ‘Precious. Five minutes is what we do not have. You don’t by any chance have fluent French?’ I said, ‘No, why?’ He said, ‘They’d wondered about making her French.’ I said, ‘Nigel. How can she be French when she’s called Travis? Travis isn’t a French name.’ He said, ‘The name isn’t important.’ I said, ‘It is to me. It’s all I’ve got to build on.’ He said, ‘I’ll get back to you.’ I said, ‘Nigel. I don’t have French but what I do have is a smattering of Spanish, the legacy of several nonpackage type holidays on the Costa del Sol. Could Travis be half Spanish?’ He said to Scott, ‘We wanted someone with fluent French who could water-ski. What have we got? Someone with pidgin Spanish who plays chess.’ Scott said, ‘Well, don’t tell me. I started off a landscape gardener.’
I was still waiting to be used in the afternoon which is when they did the water-skiing. Some girl from the local sub-aqua did it. She works part-time in the quayside restaurant where they all ate last night apparently. I saw her when she came in for make-up. Pleasant enough but didn’t look a bit like me. I’m quite petite, only she was on the large side and whereas my hair is auburn hers was definitely ginger. I didn’t say anything at the time but I thought if she’s supposed to be me they’ll be into big continuity problems so I thought I’d go in quest of the director and tell him. Nobody about on the yacht except a man who’s dusting the camera. He said not to worry, the shot was p.o.v. water-skis so we’d only be seeing her elbow. I said, ‘Will that work?’ He said, ‘Oh yes. You know, Cinema, the magic of.’ Mind you, he said, if it was up to him personally, he’d rather see my elbow than hers any day. His name was Terry, what was mine? I said, ‘It’s a relief to find someone civil.’ He said, ‘It’s the usual story, Lesley, Art comes in at the door, manners go out of the window. Why is making a film like being a mushroom?’
I said, ‘Why, Terry?’ He said, ‘They keep you in the dark and every now and again somebody comes and throws a bucket of shit over you.’ He laughed. I said, ‘That’s interesting, only Terry, they don’t grow mushrooms like that now. It’s all industrialised.’ He said, ‘You sound like a cultured person, what say we spend the evening exploring the delights of Lee-on-Solent?’
His room’s nicer than mine. His bathroom’s got a hair-dryer.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Lesley now in a bikini and wrap. An anonymous hotel room. Evening.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I’ve no objection to taking my top off. But Travis as I was playing her wasn’t the kind of girl who would take her top off. I said, ‘I’m a professional, Nigel. Credit me with a little experience. It isn’t Travis.’
I’d been sitting on the deck of the yacht all day as background while these two older men had what I presumed was a business discussion. One of them, who was covered in hair and had a real weight problem, was my boy friend apparently. You knew he was my boy friend because at an earlier juncture you’d seen him hit me across the face. Travis is supposed to be a good-time girl, though you never actually see me having a good time, just sat on this freezing cold deck plastering on the sun tan lotion. I said to Nigel, ‘I don’t know whether the cameraman’s spotted it, Nigel, but would I be sunbathing? There’s no sun.’ Nigel said, ‘No sun is favourite.’ Nigel’s first assistant, here there and everywhere. Gunther never speaks, not to me anyway. Just stands behind the camera with a little cap on. Not a patch on Roman. Roman had a smile for everybody.
Anyway, I’m sitting there as background and I say to Nigel, ‘Nigel, am I right in thinking I’m a denizen of the cocktail belt?’ He said, ‘Why?’ a bit guardedly. I said, ‘Because to me, Nigel, that implies a cigarette-holder,’ and I produced quite a modest one I happened to have brought with me. He went and spoke to Gunther, only Gunther ruled there was to be no smoking. I said, ‘On grounds of health?’ Nigel said, ‘No. On grounds of it making continuity a bugger.’ I’d also brought a paperback with me just to make it easier for props (which seemed to be Scott again). Only I’d hardly got it open when Nigel relieved me of it and said they were going for the sun tan lotion. I said, ‘Nigel, I don’t think the two are incompatible. I can apply sun tan lotion and read at the same time. That is what professionalism means.’ He checked with Gunther again and he came back and said, ‘Forget the book. Sun tan lotion is favourite.’ I said, ‘Can I ask you something else?’ He said, ‘Go on.’ I said, ‘What is my boy friend discussing?’ He said, ‘Business.’ I said, ‘Nigel. Would I be right in thinking it’s a drugs
deal?’ He said, ‘Does it matter?’ I said, ‘It matters to me. It matters to Travis. It helps my character.’ He said, ‘What would help your character is if you took your bikini top off.’ I said, ‘Nigel. Would Travis do that?’ I said, ‘We know Travis plays chess. She also reads. Is Travis the type to go topless?’ He said, ‘Listen. Who do you think you’re playing, Emily Brontë? Gunther wants to see your knockers.’
I didn’t even look at him. I just took my top off without a word and applied sun tan lotion with all the contempt I could muster. They did the shot, then Nigel came over and said Gunther liked that and if I could give him a whisker more sensuality it might be worth a close-up. So we did it again and then Nigel came over and said Gunther was liking what I was giving them and in this next shot would I slip off my bikini bottom. I said, ‘Nigel. Trust me. Travis would not do that.’ Talks to Gunther. Comes back. Says Gunther agrees with me. The real Travis wouldn’t. But by displaying herself naked before her boy friend’s business associate she is showing her contempt for his whole way of life. I said, ‘Nigel. At last Gunther is giving me something I can relate to.’ He says, ‘Right! Let’s shoot it! Elbow the bikini bottom!’
Pause.
We wrapped about six (that’s film parlance for packed up). I said to Nigel, ‘Did I give Gunther what he wanted? Is he happy?’ He said, ‘Gunther is an artist, Lesley. He’s never happy. But as he said this afternoon, “At last we’re cooking with gas.’” I said, ‘Does that mean it’s good?’ He said, ‘Yes.’ I said, ‘Oh. Because I prefer electricity.’
When I got back to the hotel, it took me some time to unwind. I’d become so identified with Travis it was only when I’d had a bath and freshened up I felt her loosening her hold on me. I was looking forward to relaxing with the crew, swapping anecdotes of the day’s shooting in the knowledge of a day’s work well done only when I got downstairs there was nobody about, just Scott and one of the drivers. Turns out all the rest of them had gone off to supper at the restaurant run by the fat girl who did the water-skiing.
I sat in the bar for a bit. Just one fellow in there. I said, ‘My hobby is people, what do you do?’ Lo and behold he’s on the film too, the animal handler, Kenny. In charge of the cat. I said, ‘That’s interesting, Kenny. I didn’t know there was going to be a cat. I love cats. I love dogs too, but I love cats.’ He said, ‘Would you care to see her? She’s asleep on my bed.’ I said, ‘That’s convenient.’ He said, ‘Lesley. Don’t run away with that idea. I am wedded to my small charges.’ So I go up and pal on with the cat a bit and Kenny tells me about all the animals he’s handled, a zebra once, a seal, an alligator and umpteen ferrets. He has a trout there too in a tank. It was going to be caught later on in the film. Quite small, only they were going to shoot it in close-up so it would look bigger.
I sat on the bed and listened to him talk about animal behaviour. I said, ‘Kenny, this is the kind of evening I like, two people just talking about something interesting.’
I woke up in the night and couldn’t remember where I was. Then I saw the cat sitting there, watching the trout.
GO TO BLACK.
Come up on Lesley back in her own flat and in her ordinary clothes. Dusk.
When you’ve finished a shot on a film you have to wait and see whether there’s what they call a hair in the gate. It’s film parlance for the all clear. Thank God there wasn’t because I couldn’t have done it again. I’d created Travis and though it was her lover that got shot I felt it was the something in me that was Travis that had died.
My lover’s name turned out to be Alfredo. That was my big line. ‘Alfredo!’ He was the head of some sort of crime syndicate only everybody in the yachting fraternity thought he was very respectable and to do with the building trade. One night while Alfredo and me were ashore at a building federation dinner and dance this young undercover policeman swims out to the yacht to search it in his underpants. However, as luck would have it Travis has a headache, so she and Alfredo return early from this ultra-respectable function with Alfredo in a towering rage. Originally I was down to say, ‘I can’t help it, Alfredo, I have a headache,’ and we tried it once or twice only Gunther then thought it would be more convincing if my headache was so bad I couldn’t actually speak and Alfredo just said, ‘You and your headaches.’ I said, ‘If it’s a migraine rather than a headache Travis probably wouldn’t be able to speak,’ and Gunther said, ‘Whatever you say.’ It’s wonderful, that moment, when you feel a director first begin to trust you and you can really start to build.
Anyway Travis and Alfredo come into the cabin where they find this young man behind the sofa in his underpants and Alfredo takes out his gun and says, ‘How lucky lovely Travis had a headache and we had to leave our glittering reception. I was cross with her then but now my mood has changed. Offer the gentleman a drink, Travis. Then go and take your clothes off. There’s nothing I like better than making love after killing a policeman. Ha ha.’ I then retire to the next cabin while Alfredo taunts this bare young policeman and says he is going to kill him, but before he does so, he tells him about his drug-smuggling operation in every detail, the way criminals tend to do the minute they get somebody at gunpoint. When Travis comes back with no clothes on the young policeman is talking about the evil drugs do, all the young lives ruined and so on. Only I forgot to say that there’d been some dialogue earlier, when I was supposed to be snorkelling, about how Travis had a little brother, Craig, and how he’d got hooked on drugs and how I was heartbroken and determined to revenge myself on the culprits should I ever come across them.
So when the policeman is saying all this about the horror of drugs you can see it comes as a revelation to Travis that her lover is involved in drugs: she thinks it’s just been ordinary crime and stealing electrical goods. Anyway very quietly, ‘almost pensively’ Gunther said,Travis picks up an underwater spear gun that happens to be on the sideboard. Nigel came over and said that ideally at this point Gunther would like to see a variety of emotions chase themselves across Travis’s face as her affection for her lover, Alfredo, fights with the demands of her conscience and the memories of her little brother, Craig.You see my lover’s fat finger tighten on the trigger as he gets ready to shoot the policeman, only just then I say his name very quietly, ‘Alfredo’. He spins round.Travis fires the harpoon and you see the spear come out of his back, killing him, and also ruining his dinner jacket. They then follow that with a big close-up with blood and everything, and me with a single tear rolling down my cheek.
We did this in one take, which Nigel said was almost unique in the annals of filming. Only Scott has to chip in and say good job, as just having one dinner jacket was fairly unique as well. I couldn’t have done it again anyway. I’d got nothing left. Except I suddenly had a flash of inspiration, the way you do when you’ve been to the end of the world and back, and I said to Nigel, ‘Don’t you think that Travis, drained of all emotion by the death of her lover, would perhaps cling on to the policeman whose life she has saved, and that they would celebrate his deliverance by having sexual intercourse there and then?’
Big debate. Gunther really liked it, only the actor playing the policeman wasn’t keen. I think he may have been gay too, he had a moustache. Eventually Nigel came over and said that favourite was for the policeman to look as if he was considering having sexual intercourse and for him to run his hand speculatively over Travis’s private parts, only then pity drives out lust and instead he covers up her nakedness with an oriental-type dressing-gown, the property of her dead lover. Though even at this late stage you can tell he’s not ruled out the possibility because as he’s fastening the dressing-gown his fingers linger over Travis’s nipples. Afterwards Gunther explained that if there had been any proper funny business at this point it would have detracted from the final scene when after all the excitement the undercover policeman goes home to his regular girl friend, who cooks him a hot snack and who’s a librarian, and then the final scene is of them making love, the message being that sexual i
ntercourse is better with someone you’re in love with even though they are a bit homely and work in the county library than with someone like Travis who’s just after a good time. As Gunther said to me that night, ‘It’s a very moral film only the tragedy is, people won’t see it.’ I said to him, I said, ‘That’s interesting because I saw it that way right from the start.’
When we were in bed I said, ‘If only we could have done this before.’ He said, ‘Lesley I make it a rule never to lay a finger on an actress until the whole thing’s in the can.’ I said, ‘Gunther. There’s no need to explain. We’re both professionals. But Gunther,’ I said, ‘can I ask you one question? Was I Travis? Were you pleased with my performance?’ He said, ‘Listen. If someone is a bad actress I can’t sleep with her. So don’t ask me if I was pleased with your performance. This is the proof.’ He’s a real artist is Gunther.
When I woke up in the morning he’d gone. I wandered down for some coffee only there was nobody from the unit about. I’d planned to say goodbye to everybody but they were off doing some establishing shots of the marina. Anyway, I went and bought a card with a sinking ship on it and put ‘Goodbye, gang! See you at the premiere!’ and left it at the desk.