The Oberon Book of Monologues for Black Actors, Monologues for Men, Volume 1

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The Oberon Book of Monologues for Black Actors, Monologues for Men, Volume 1 Page 2

by Simeilia Hodge-Dallaway


  Summary (Extract)

  Seventy dollars was stolen from Old Mack’s shop and Rosa admits to EPHRAIM that she forgot to hide the incriminating evidence against Charlie Adams before notifying the police. The news devastates Ephraim who considers Charlie a close friend. He hits back with news of his plans to leave her and Trinidad. But Rosa has much more to get off her chest. She informs Ephraim of her pregnancy, but will it be enough to keep them together?

  EPHRAIM

  Ephraim storms down into the yard. Somewhere in the distance we hear the rhythmic pounding of a steel band. Inside ROSA lies across the bed, crying. After a moment EPHRAIM goes back into the room.

  Rosa. Rose. Rose – Don’t shed no tears for me – I was never worth that kind of water. Rosa – Listen to me! Look! Look!

  He has taken a framed photograph from his trunk.

  Yer see this picture of ole Grandma here? ... She took care of me from the time I small – till I grow a man! My old man died when I was five years old. When I was six – my mother pick up with another man – went to Curaçao! – and left me flat! For nearly a whole week I went hungry till Grandma came and found me and took me home with her. So it was only me and Gram from all that time...then come a time. I began to make my plans. I find that she was in my way. I wanted to save money! – But she was in my way. So one day – I went to her – Told her – I was putting her in the poor house... Four days! – After I took her there – she died.

  …

  He has told his story without any display of emotion.

  When they knew she was dying, they send, and call me. She was lying there on the bed. I couldn’t believe it was she. In four days – she had sort of – wasted away. I stood up by the door – I couldn’t go no farther. She was looking at me. But I just stood there. Shame! Eating me! ... I heard her ask the nurse for me to come near. Perhaps – to forgive me – I don’t know. But I couldn’t go. I couldn’t go. Then she told the nurse: ‘Tell that boy if he can’t come nearer – he might as well go!’ ... She died that night.

  …

  DON’T TOUCH ME! So don’t think – Don’t think a little trap like you could ketch me – just by sayin’ yer going to have a baby fer mey. When that boat whistle and blow! – It mean I leaving all this behind! This picture!

  He throws the frame spinning on the floor.

  You and Ole Mack! Charlie! Mrs. Adams! Esther! – The whole damn blasted lot!

  …

  Listen to me, Rosa! I got a life to live! Awright! So I stay here. I come an inspector on the trolley. To what end? Turn macco like the rest. Stand at a bus stop. Hop on the trolley. Check the tickets. Hop off the trolley! To what end, Rosa? Just so as to see the conductors don’t rob the blasted City Corporation?

  …

  That is not for me! Outside somewhere in the world I feel for certain sure it got more for me than that!

  From

  SKYVERS

  by Barry Reckord

  Skyvers opened at the Royal Court Theatre in London on 23 July 1963, directed by Ann Jellicoe, with a cast size of ten including; David Hemmings (Cragge), Philip Martin (Brook), Nicholas Edmett (Colman), John Hall (Adams), Lance Kaufman (Jordan), Bernard Kay (Freeman), John Woodnutt (Webster), Dallas Caval (Headmaster), Chloe Ashcroft (Helen), and Annette Robertson (Sylvia). The play was revived by Pam Brighton in 1971 at Roundhouse and then again for the 50th Anniversary season at the Royal Court Theatre.

  Skyvers is the third play written by Barry Reckord, set in a British comprehensive school; the play explores the cultural, racial and class divisions within a top-down hierarchical institution which uses corporal punishment to discipline unruly students. Barry Reckord draws on his personal experience as a teacher to make bold statements about the relationship between working-class students and their white middle-class teachers. In the play, the fifteen-year-old students have little respect for formal education, following in the footsteps of their uneducated parents, and succumbing to the peer pressure of their colleagues.

  With just a few days left before the end of term, the teachers at the school have accepted the prospects that the students will leave school without any qualifications. Lead character Cragge epitomises hope in the play; although destined for failure, he desires a life different from his parents and school friends. A new bright-eyed supply teacher, Mr Freeman, who is keen to prepare the students for further education and employment, spots potential in Cragge. He offers Cragge the opportunity to hone his talent and love for football by writing the football commentary for the school magazine. For the first time, Cragge begins to consider returning to school the following year. Sadly, the new proposal is cut short by the head teacher of the school, who rejects the idea that Cragge is anything more than a young hooligan and makes it his goal to ensure the entire school are aware of it too.

  Interestingly, the lead character Cragge has previously been cast as both a white and black character, with actors such as Michael Kitchen (Roundhouse), and O-T Fagbenle (Royal Court). After consulting with Yvonne Brewster (Former Manager of Talawa Theatre Company and friend of Barry Reckord) regarding Barry’s intended ethnicity of the lead character, I proceeded to cast a black actor, Nathaniel Martello-White, for the National Theatre’s Black British Play Archive recording.

  About the Playwright

  Barry Reckord was born in Kingston Jamaica on the 19 November 1926 (under the name Barrington John Reckord) and died on 20 December 2011, aged 85 in the country of his birth, Jamaica.

  Barry came to England in the 1950s, after receiving a scholarship to read English at Emmanuel College in Cambridge. Barry is recognised as one of the most intellectual and groundbreaking playwrights of the 50s and 60s, alongside other writers of his generation, namely, Derek Walcott, Errol John and Edgar Nkosi White, who helped to pave the way for black contemporary writers in Britain. Barry Reckord’s writing highlights a range of different societal issues in London and Jamaica.

  Barry Reckord’s other published plays include Della (aka Flesh to a Tiger), You in Your Small Corner, and White Witch.

  Summary (Extract)

  Fifteen-year-old schoolboy CRAGGE is approaching the last few days in an underachieving comprehensive school in London. For the first time in the play, Cragge talks openly to the new supply teacher Mr Freeman, about his relationship with his father and his dream to exceed his father’s ambition and make something of his life.

  CRAGGE

  I was thinking about me dad.

  …

  (Wearily.) ’E works... Once upon a time, ’e ’ad a business. Then ‘is business bust. Then T.B. One man. ’E was ’opin’ for a break and that’s wot ’e got. The back a me ’ead tells me nothin’ in the world can be right when that can happen.

  …

  His fault? His luck. Me dad’s been a fair stooge all ’is life but I ain’t gonna be. Sometimes I believe I can do anything. But I can’t decide wot. It’s my whole life so it’s gotta be somethin’ good to ’elp stop war and that. I was for war in the argument just now wasn’t I? (Vain even in vice.) Bet you didn’t notice that? Did you? In an argument whatever it’s about I just say the opposite to win. I argue about which trumpeter is better than which without ’aving ’eard neither a them. It shows I don’t wanna be good, just big, like Brook and this bloody ’eadmaster, and I think about that, even in my sleep I think about it and wake up with me mind aching. And it’s also the decision of givin’ your whole life to a think. The other day I sweat deciding to give up for life the things I’d ’ave to give up to be a real Christian, like. I decided, then the next day changed me mind, then decided, then changed me mind again. Instead I was gonna be a rock and roll singer and give concerts in Moscow. Then I decided to be a footballer and ’ere I am now.

  From

  SMILE ORANGE

  by Trevor Rhone

  Smile Orange by Trevor Rhone was first performed in London at the Tricycle Theatre in co-production with Talawa Theatre Company on 21 July 1983, directed by Rufus Collins with the following cast
; Slyvester Williams, T Bone, Malcolm Fredericks, Anton Phillips and Cassie McFarlene.

  In 1992, Smile Orange was performed again in London, directed by Trevor Rhone, to audiences at the Nia Centre in Manchester and at the Belgrade Theatre in Coventry, with a new set of groundbreaking black actors, including Dona Croll, Robert McKewley, Raul Newney, Eamonn Walker and David Webber. Since then the play has been produced in Brooklyn and in Africa, performed in Swahili. Smile Orange has also been adapted for film.

  Trevor Rhone’s Smile Orange is a satire with an underlying serious commentary on the tourism industry in Jamaica, specifically focusing on the exploitation of both the Jamaican hotel staff and tourists. The play centres on lead character Ringo Smith, a Jamaican hustler and waiter at the Mocho Beach Hotel. Ringo has mastered the way to mould into the perfect subservient Jamaican for the white guests at the hotel for financial and employment gain. With other staff members at the Hotel Beach resorting to prostitution and manipulation, Rhone comments on humanity in the tourism business, questioning the lengths both tourists and Jamaicans will go to for money, sex and a good time.

  About the Playwright

  The legendary, award-winning playwright, actor, director and producer Trevor Rhone, was born in Kingston, Jamaica on 24 March 1940 and died of a heart attack on 15 September 2009. Trevor Rhone, is most famous for writing the stage play Smile Orange and the screenplay The Harder They Come (co-scripted with Perry Henzell in 1972). He is remembered by his three children, Traci, Trevor-David and Jonathan, wife Camella and grandchild Sofia. Trevor Rhone gained a scholarship to study drama at Rose Bruford College in Kent during the 1960s. After graduating with a drama degree, Rhone returned to Jamaica. In 1967, Rhone founded the Theatre ’77 group in Jamaica, dedicated to producing local new writing in Jamaica. In the same year, Rhone and Yvonne Brewster co-founded the groundbreaking Barn Theatre (which had a capacity of 150 seats), which housed the work created by Theatre ’77. Smile Orange premiered in Jamaica at the Barn Theatre in 1971. Since then Trevor Rhone’s stage plays have been produced internationally and he has also adapted many plays for the screen.

  Other plays by Trevor Rhone include Two Can Play, Schools Out and Old Story Time.

  Summary (Extract)

  RINGO has manipulated his boss to employ unqualified pool attendants who cannot swim to work at the hotel. Meanwhile, he has also mastered a plan to rip-off the hotel guests by encouraging them to gamble their money at a crab race competition. Ringo’s back-handed actions finally catch up with him when a drunk guest loses all of his money at the crab race competition and dies in the Mocho Beach hotel’s swimming pool. With the police investigation taking place at the hotel, Ringo thinks of another plan to avoid facing any repercussions.

  RINGO

  No matter. I jump in. I risk mi life. I risk my life to save di tourist. You hear how people was congratulating me, how me brave. You listen to what di tourists were saying? Di fact dat a man had to jump in and save me too, no big thing. If me never get a cramp me would save everybody. You is di only two dat know me can’t swim, so all you have to do is spread it roun’ di hotel dat ‘Ringo risk him life to save di tourist an’ pool attendant’. Two twos you hear it over di radio. Next thing you know you see it in di newspaper. Is a great selling card. Next time dem giving out medal for bravery my name will be on di list. As far as di world is concerned, ‘Ringo is a hero’. What I say – ‘Hero’. All when di Manager come back and hear di story, is promotion dat, you know. Head Waiter, then Dining-Room Captain. When me get into dem high positon, I ju’ bring you up wid me. Eh, sweet boy? You can see yuhself as a waiter?

  [BUSBOY: Yes, Sar.]

  So all you have to do is keep yuh mouth shut ’bout what really happen and shout out ‘Ringo Risk him life to save di people’. People believe anything you tell dem, you know. After me get di promotion, you know, Joe, any little racket you want to run, me nuh jus’ turn me eye? What you say? A talking sense?

  [BUSBOY: It sound all right, but what about di Assistant Manger? They going to have a big investigation into what happen.]

  Dat is true. Even if him find out di truth, what him going to do? Him can’t do nutten. Him reputation at stake. Is him employ di boys. When it get down to din nitty-gritty is each man for himself. Everybody is protecting him own things. If is not money, is power. Is two things I sorry ’bout, though. One, dat di white man dead – him wasn’t a bad guy – and two, dat di other brother never drown too. (Laughs.) So, young boy, when anybody ask you what happen today, what you going to say?

  From

  NICE

  by Mustapha Matura

  Nice by Mustapha Matura was first performed at the Almost Free Theatre, London, on 12 February 1973, directed by Mustapha Matura and performed by Trinidadian-born actor Stephan Kalipha.

  Nice is a hilariously funny monologue play which tells the story of an unintelligent immigrant’s first experience in London. The central character (who is simply named Man) explores pubs and nightclubs with a childlike naivety of being ‘nice’ to everyone he meets, despite being warned not to by his fellow West Indian friend. Contrary to his friend’s predictions, the Man prospers from his honesty and nice ways, which has enabled him to have a steady income, girlfriend and great relationship with his landlord. Unlike his West-Indian friend who relies on the Man for financial assistance and housing. As the story unravels, the Man’s ‘nice’ ways soon become his biggest downfall, for he is targeted by ill-hearted people who abuse his generosity and innocence. He reacts to this in an unfriendly manner which ultimately leads to his imprisonment.

  About the Playwright

  Award-winning playwright, poet and actor Mustapha Matura was born in Trinidad in 1939 to an Indian father and Creole Scottish-African Mother. Mustapha travelled to London by ship in 1962 and worked as a hospital porter for a year, before pursing an acting career in Rome with fellow Trinidadian filmmaker Horace Ové. After starring in stage plays in Rome, on his return to London Mustapha decided to pursue playwriting.

  Mustapha has written over twenty plays which have been staged in London and America. His writing tends to explore the West Indian experience in London as well as comment on the influence of the Western world on the Caribbean islands. Mustapha’s first full-length play As Time Goes By won the George Devine and John Whiting awards in 1971. Since then, he has continued to write exceptional plays which celebrate his Trinidadian-British identity.

  Other plays by Mustapha Matura include; Welcome Home Jacko, Playboy of the West Indies, The Coup, Nice, Rum ’n Coca Cola, Independence, Trinidadian Sisters (an adaptation of Chekhov’s Three Sisters) and Nice.

  Summary (Extract)

  Nice is set in a prison canteen. MAN, aged between thirty-five – forty years old, dressed in uniform, is sweeping and wiping. He speaks directly to the audience recalling his experience in London from the moment he came off the boat.

  MAN

  Wen a come off de boat de customs man was nice ter me, so i was nice back ter him, but a friend a mine who come ter meet me say, boy yer shouldn’t be nice ter dem, dey do’ like we, but i say nar man it en so at all, wen people nice ter yer, you must be nice back ter dem, and if you want people to be nice ter you, you must be nice ter dem, but anyhow he say a was foolish an a go fine out, but a was nice ter he so de next day he carry me down ter exchange dey call it, and de man dey was nice ter me too, so a was nice back ter him, so wen dey give me dis job sweeping out a office, i say tank you ter de man, an he say tank you back ter me, but me friend say, a shouldn’t say tank you ter him, but i say de man say tank you ter me so i say tank you back ter him, an i tell him if yer want people ter say tank you ter you you have ter say tank you ter dem, but he say how a was wrong, but i say nar man, i en wrong i rite, den he say how i stupid, but anyhow a say tank you ter him, so de next night he carry me ter a night club, where dey had some girls dancing with coloured men, de first time a see white woman dance wit coloured man, and dey en dancing straight an back yer know, dey dancing wit dey bot
tom all over de place, so i say boy dis is de place fer me, so a went up an ask one a de girls nice fer a dance an she dance wit me an it was a good dance an we had a good time, but me friend pull me aside an say boy, how a go teach yer ter live in dis country wen yer do’ listen ter me, yer mustn’t be nice ter dem, dey do’ want yer ter be nice ter dem, but i say nar man, dat en true because i was nice ter she an she was nice back ter me, but he say de same ting again dat i go fine out, so a miss a dance trying ter fine out, but a en fine out notting, so a went back an ask she ter dance an she say yes an we dance again, but a notice me friend wasn’t dancing at all, so a say he must be en feel like dancing or maybe he foot hurting him, so anyhow wen de club start ter close me friend come pulling me saying le we go, le we go, but i say nar man, i go ask de lady ter go home wit she an see wha she say, but me friend say dey do’ want we in de house much less in dey bed, he say dey only like ter dance wit me an get hot ter go an heat up de white boys, but i say nar man, dat en true, because i know dat if you heat up something is you have ter eat it but he say i en know dese woman an i en go get notting off she an dat if i go wit she, in de morning she go cry out an say a hypnotise she an rape she, but i say nar man, it en so if a woman heat you up she heat you up fer a reason, an de reason is because she want you ter burn she, but he say i is a idiot an a go fine out but anyway a ask she nicely ter come home wit she an she say yes, so a leave me friend outside de club, an me an she went home an had a nice time an in de morning she en cry out an bawl rape or anyting she just say she have ter go ter work an if a does go ter de club often, she go see me again, so i say yes a does go sometimes an a hope a go see she again, an she say she hope so too, so a went outside an a did’nt even know where a was but a ask a policeman nice an he tell me how ter catch a bus back ter me friend’s house, boy wen a tell me friend wha happen yer shoulda see de man, de man went mad, de man start ter cuss me an call me all kinda names an tell me a shouldn’t ask no policeman notting dat if yer ask dem anyting an dey fine out yer new dey go lock yer up fer something, but i say nar man, if yer want ter fine out anyting is a policeman ter ask an if yer ask dem nice dey go answer yer back nice but he say a go fine out, but i say how a go fine out he just say a go fine out,

 

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