The CTR Anthology

by Alan Filewod

  Projection

  TRACKING IN REVERSE: INTERIOR, DAY

  (Thriller music begins in the black-out. Lucie stands naked, crossing slowly to stage left as she dries herself with a bath-towel. A panasonic peewee dolly tracks backwards, as she walks towards it: the camera zooming manically in and out of her face and body with the tension and drive of the music. A telephone is positioned on the dolly. Two-thirds of the way across the stage, Lucie thinks she hears a noise behind her, and looks over her shoulder, then leans back against the wall. High suspense. The telephone rings, catching her by surprise. She answers it:)

  Lucie: Hello … ? Hello … ? Hello!!

  (There is no response. She is alarmed, stands and covers herself with the towel. Anxiously, she continues to follow the dolly across the stage until she exits stage left. A second later there is an amplified, blood-curdling scream.)

  Blackout

  Projection

  THE WOUND: INTERIOR, NIGHT

  (François enters with a restaurant table and two chairs which he places downstage centre. David enters behind him.)

  François: Bonsoir monsieur. Ce sera pour combien de personnes?

  David: I’m sorry … ah..

  (He indicates he cannot speak French.)

  François: Excuse me. Would you like a table for ’ow many?

  David: For two, please.

  François: Does this one suit you?

  David: Yes, that’s fine … excuse me, would you take my coat please?

  François: Sure.

  (François leaves with the coat. David sits at the table, waiting. Lucie runs in.)

  Lucie: Oh, David! I’m sorry I’m late …

  David: That’s all right.

  Lucie: I hope you haven’t been waiting too long?

  David: I just walked in this minute. It’s nice to see you.

  Lucie: We were supposed to finish at three o’clock, but it took longer than I thought. I had an argument with the director, about a scene – He wants to shoot it from above, you know, as if a murderer is lurking over this victim from the skylight, creepy … but anyway, we fought it out. And I won.

  David: Well …

  François: Bonjour Lucie.

  Lucie: Ah, Bonjour François; tiens, je te présente un ami, David Hauss-mann, François Tremblay. He’s my next-door neighbour.

  David: Oh! So you are the one in apartment number 8?

  François: Yes.

  David: I heard – so much about you!

  Lucie: (quickly):

  David is the one who drove me back to Quebec City after I saw the guy throw himself in front of the Métro in Montreal.

  François: Weird way to meet someone.

  David: Yes … Métro stations in Montreal these days seem to be used more for suicide than for commuting …

  Lucie: Why’s that?

  François: C’est la façon la plus cheap de se suicider …

  David: What?

  François: … Do you want to order something to drink before your meal?

  David: Mmm, let’s avoid liquor. Lucie, would you like some wine with the meal?

  Lucie: Yeah. Sure.

  François: I’ll leave you to look at the wine list.

  David: What kind of wine do you prefer?

  Lucie: Oh, red or white.

  David: That’s what I meant.

  Lucie: I like both of them.

  David: How about red?

  Lucie: Red? Perfect!

  David: What kind of red do you like: Bourgogne, Bordeaux, Beaujolais … ?

  Lucie: I like all of them!

  David: Beaujolais?

  Lucie: Beaujolais, perfect!

  David: What kind of Beaujolais do you prefer?

  Lucie: Euh … it’s up to you.

  David: How about a bottle of Brouilly? Do you like Brouilly?

  Lucie: I love it!

  David: What kind of food do they serve here?

  Lucie: It’s kind of mixed genre. A little of this, a little of that: French, Hindu, vegetarian …

  François: Have you decided on the wine?

  Lucie: Yes, we’ll have a bottle of – (She looks for it on the wine list) – Brouilly.

  François: Brouilly, okay.

  (François goes again.)

  David: So! How does it feel to be a movie star?

  Lucie: My God, give me a chance – it’s my first day of filming! I think I felt a bit – well, silly … !

  (She struggles for the words.)

  I found the director quite … aggressive with his camera … And … oh, – I had a “difficult” scene to do and I … I felt more observed by the crew, and the director himself, than by the voyeur in the scenario. I was being watched. Me, not the character. Do you know what I mean?

  David: Watched …

  (François comes back with the bottle, shows it to Lucie who simply reads the label, and nods.)

  Lucie: Brouilly.

  David: What were you shooting exactly? Indoor scenes, outdoor scenes?

  Lucie: We’re shooting all the interiors, because the film is set in spring – so we have to wait for the end of winter.

  David: What will you do if it rains all the time?

  Lucie: We want it to rain, because all the scenes happen in the rain.

  David: What if it never rains?

  Lucie: Well, they make it rain!

  David: Of course. Like they do with tears. For them, making it is not the problem, just a question of water quantity.

  Lucie: Yes, for making it it’s the size of the equipment that counts! (Lucie laughs, and François, who holds the opened bottle, joins in as he pours her a little into her glass, to “taste.”

  Lucie is surprised not to get more)

  Lucie: Merci!

  François: Bien … Goûtes-y.

  David: Taste it.

  Lucie: Oh … yes, sure.

  (She taste it and nods.)

  Mmm. It’s very good.

  (As François pours the rest.)

  It’s even a little bouchonné!

  François: Oh … I’ll get you another bottle

  Lucie: No, no. It’s very good. It is bouchonné … ?

  Bouchonné!

  François: Yes … but if it’s bouchonné –

  David: – Doesn’t that mean it tastes like cork?

  Lucie: Oh? Okay. Then, in that case, it can’t possibly be bouchonné because it tastes just great!

  David: Perhaps I should double-check … ? It is a very expensive bottle! (He does so, with connoisseur’s style.)

  It is an excellent wine!

  Lucie: Like I said.

  François: Are you ready to order?

  David: Go for it Lucie.

  Lucie: No, no go for it

  David: you are the guest.

  David: But what do you mean, I am the guest. I thought I was the one inviting you out for dinner?

  Lucie: No, no: I mean you are the foreigner! (Pause. David looks at the menu.)

  David: Is this soup?

  François: Yes … Potage Crécy.

  David: I’ll have that please, and the filet de boeuf Brisanne. I’d like that done rare, but please, in the French understanding of the word rare – not the Canadian!

  Lucie: And I’ll have the same as him, but with the Canadian rare!

  (François leaves with the order.)

  David: Well, here’s to your film.

  (They raise a toast. He takes a package from under the table.) I’m not very good at this, but – here! This is for you.

  Lucie: What is it?

  David: What do you think it is? It’s a present.

  Lucie: Nnn, ye-s, but it’s not my birthday.

  David: It’s a present time, just the same.

  Lucie: No. – I mean, …

  There is no need for you to be buying me presents David.

  David: Oh. Well … I’m sorry then …

  Lucie: No … I’m sorry …

  I’m the one acting weird here. Let me open it! Oh! A Russian
doll!

  David: Yes, the real thing.

  Lucie: Don’t these come in all different sizes, and people collect them?

  David: In fact, you won’t have to collect them. They are all there, packed on inside another.

  Lucie: What do you mean?

  David: Open it up.

  Lucie: (Opens the doll and finds another inside.)

  Oh … it’s beautiful …

  David: It’s called a Matrushka.

  Lucie: A Matrushka.

  (Lucy opens up each doll to discover the smaller one hiding inside, and places them in a line across the table, so as to make a wall between herself and David.)

  David: It comes from Russia but you find them in Eastern Europe also. It’s a traditional doll, representing the generations. So this big one you see here is the mother of this one, and the grandmother of this one also, because she is the mother of this one, and this one is the mother of that one, and that one, and that one … and … to infinity, I guess. But it can stand for many other things, I believe. Like Truth.

  One truth which is hiding within another truth, and another one and another one …

  Lucie: I’m very moved. Thank you.

  David: I’m glad you like it.

  (The lights and sound ambience change to reveal that suddenly the whole evening has passed. They are stirring their coffee; the desultory rhythm of the spoons evokes their languor and the lateness of the hour. David is mid-conversation:)

  David: … And at one point in the film he turns to her and says: “Beware death … she comes and goes through mirrors. Gaze at yourself all your life in the looking glass, and you will see death at work.”

  Lucie: That’s beautiful.

  David: That’s Cocteau.

  (François comes in, looking at his watch.)

  François: I’m sorry, but I am going to have to close now.

  David: What time is it?

  François: A quarter past three!

  Lucie: My God! We didn’t notice the time!

  David: I’m very sorry. We were completely engrossed in our conversation while digesting this excellent meal.

  Lucie: Oui. Merci beaucoup, c’était trés bon.

  David: Can you tell me where I could find my coat please?

  François: It’s in the cloakroom, I’ll get it for you.

  David: Lucie, you forget your Matrushka.

  Lucie: Oh – my Matrushka.

  (She shows the doll to François.)

  Regarde François ce que David m’a donné … C’t’une poupé Russe, une Matrushka. Y l’a acheté á l’est.

  François: C’est beau. (To David)

  You’re from Europe?

  David: Yes, from Eastern Europe. But I’ve been a Canadian citizen for many years now.

  François: What do you do here?

  David: I am a criminologist. I work at a centre for scientific investigation in Montréal.

  François: Parthenais?

  David: (Stopping, and giving François a look.)

  Yes, the Parthenais.

  Lucie: Tu connais ça?

  François: Oui, j’ai déjà eu affair la.

  Lucie: Comment ça?

  François: Pas en prison …

  (David is trying to follow what they are saying.)

  I went there for questioning.

  David: For what?

  François: Because six years ago one of my best friends was murdered.

  Here in Quebec City. I was the last to see her alive, so I was a suspect. In fact, it was me who found her dead, in her apartment. She was tied up, raped, and stabbed a lot of times …

  David: Did they find the killer?

  François: No, they never tracked him down.

  David: What was your friend’s name?

  François: Marie-Claude Légaré.

  (Lucie recognizes the story. She turns to face the wall: her back is covered with blood.)

  David: Yes … I think I remember. Don’t worry, they’ll track him down. Nobody is able to go through life with a murder on their conscience.

  (Lucie falls to the ground between the two men, whose conversation continues in the “real time” of the restaurant, despite the emotional events also being acted out, of Lucie’s realization, and of their individual memories of the Marie-Claude Légaré case. David continues talking to François as though he never moves, but François drops into another reality for a moment, falling to his knees beside Lucie, to relive the discovery of his friend’s corpse, as David chats on.)

  David: Well, thank you once again, and my compliments to the chef; the food was indeed excellent. And the service, impeccable. Have you been a waiter for long?

  (François resumes his position in the “present time” of the conversation. While he answers the question, David in his turn kneels beside the “corpse,” reliving the autopsy which he performed on Marie-Claude Legaré by ripping Lucie’s blood-drenched shirt from top to bottom with a scalpel.)

  François: Long enough … three years now. Before this I was at school – University – studying Political Science and I was working part time in a Yugoslavian restaurant then.

  (David stands and resumes his former position in the real time of the conversation.)

  David: Do you intend to do this for long? I mean, waiting tables …

  (He manages to side-step the condescension of his original question.)

  … I know how transient things are in the restaurant business.

  François: (Shrugging):

  I don’t know. If I could find something else, I’d move on for sure.

  (Lucie uncoils from the floor and stands spread flat against the wall in the same “corpse” position that she had on the ground. Simultaneously, the two men each put one foot on the wall as they talk, and hold their bodies horizontal, parallel with the floor, as they shake hands over her vertical body; so creating the classic cinematic “top shot” of a corpse.)

  David: Well, it’s better than no work at all. Where I come from people are starting to say things are not much brighter this side of the Wall; at least over there everybody has the right to work. Ask your Yugoslavian friends, they’ll tell you the same thing.

  It was certainly a pleasure to meet you François …

  (Lucie turns around and re-enters the “present time” scene to indicate that in “reality” she has been standing listening to them all the time.)

  Lucie, if we want to exercise our own “right to work” tomorrow perhaps we should be moving along.

  Lucie: (In a strained voice):

  Salut, François.

  François: À bientôt.

  (Lucie holds her finger, which is bleeding.)

  David: What’s the matter, Lucie? You’re bleeding?

  Lucie: It’s nothing … I must have cut myself with a knife.

  David: We’ll take care of that.

  (He ushers Lucie out of the restaurant, leaving François alone. Lights fade to black.)

  Projection

  THE RAMPARTS: EXTERIOR, NIGHT

  (A projection of the Quebec City skyline covers the cyclorama. Lucie and David enter above and behind the wall, stage left. They lean on the wall as if looking at the famous view projected behind them. Lucie is withdrawn and quiet.)

  David: What an exquisite city.

  Lucie: I come walking here very often, but in summer generally, not winter.

  David: I greatly prefer the winter. I don’t know why really, but I find I like the cold … anything cold. It’s because I was born in December, perhaps. You know, when people talk about the cold it is nearly always in pejorative terms. For me, the cold evokes a kind of objective calm, wisdom … and most of all a great gentleness. Like these snowflakes slowly falling … Leaning against the ramparts like that you remind me of someone I once knew …

  Lucie: Who was she?

  David: Someone whom I loved deeply, and to whom I … did a great wrong. A German woman.

  Lucie: (Noting his sadness)

  I’m too nosey, aren’
t I?

  David: It was a long time ago.

  What’s wrong, Lucie? Since we’ve left the restaurant you seem … preoccupied somehow.

  Lucie: Yes. I am … I had a shock just now, because that story François told us is the same story that the film I’m playing in is based on. I didn’t know François was involved with it; I didn’t know … And now I feel uneasy about being a part of it, playing her part … I feel she is a part of him, and I am … I guess I’m wondering if there’s still time for them to find someone else.

  David: That is in such bad taste. To base a film on an unresolved murder case –

  Lucie: Why? Her death is something that happened: it belongs to history now – but history itself doesn’t belong to anyone.

  David: Yes, but in real life they haven’t even identified the murderer – (to prove his point)

  How could they end the case? How do they end the film?

  Lucie: After the girl’s killed, everything’s set up to look as if it was … (She says this with difficulty, thinking of François.) one of her close friends who did it … then at the end we discover –

  David: – At the end we discover it was the police who did it.

  Lucie: How did you know?

  David: It’s a classic. When you don’t know how to end a who-done-it, you always blame it on the cops. They are there, they know how it’s done!

  (He explains.)

  At first, when I was a student in criminology, I too thought that those …

  (He searches for the word.)

  Vemehmungsoffiziers – the people developing techniques for interrogation and investigation – that they were all violent brutes, that they were a product of their line of work. But, you know what?

  (His voice changes, for he is talking about an aspect of himself.)

  They are much more dangerous than that. The men leading the field of criminal research are very, very intelligent people – and that is a fact you’ll never see in a thriller. It is too frightening, perhaps. Poor François. What he must have been through … What do you want to do? Should we start back now?

  Lucie: David, I’m sorry … but I think I’d rather go home alone tonight. This has hit me hard, and I need to think it over … but alone.

  David: All right. I understand.

  (But he doesn’t really. He tries to kiss her, as if in goodbye, but she pushes him away after a moment.)

  If I have to visit Quebec City again, I can call you?