Lighten Up

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Lighten Up Page 3

by Nicholas Brown


  DANNO: I’ve heard enough.

  GUILLAUME: [to DANNO] Ron Howard, you come with me.

  He moves DANNO to the other side of the stage.

  Positions, s’il vous plaît … today’s pose is juxtapose … donc, allez, do that.

  He addresses the audience, pretending they’re his rally crowd.

  Mes petits Rougettes, ecoutez-moi! As you know, we applied to shoot everybody in Auburn but the council didn’t permit more shooting in the Middle West. In a protest, you will show your coq sportif, your coq au vin and all your bits. Now you show your hide and hide no more. While I shed my tri-couleur, you show your true-colour … Rouge! Today we end the Red-pression. Today begins the Red-volution. Vive la Red-volution. Bouge la Rouge! Bouge la Rouge! Bouge la Rouge!

  GUILLAUME pushes JOHN and SANDY together, and exits.

  ALL: Bouge la Rouge, Bouge la Rouge, Bouge la Rouge!

  SANDY: You?

  JOHN: Well well well. Miss Heckler.

  SANDY: You’re that Cockney Convict from the Quay.

  JOHN: Former … Cockney Convict. That was a past life.

  SANDY: Cockney Convict to Ginger Meggs … nice career progress.

  JOHN: Nice outfit.

  SANDY: Today I’m Ginger Spice. Happy Ginger Pride!

  SANDY throws what looks like red powder into the air.

  JOHN: What is it?

  SANDY: Paprika. When I go to Mardi Gras I throw glitter everywhere, so I thought I’d throw paprika everywhere for Ginger Pride.

  JOHN: I’ve never tried paprika.

  SANDY: How can you not have tried paprika?

  JOHN: I don’t like spicy foods.

  SANDY: That’s ridiculous. Try some.

  She puts her finger in the bag.

  Just dab it on your gums.

  JOHN allows SANDY to put her finger in his mouth and try the paprika.

  JOHN: Cocaine flashbacks. Mmm. It’s actually quite nice.

  SANDY: Spice up your life.

  JOHN: Never thought I’d see you wearing a Union Jack. Isn’t that a little hypocritical?

  SANDY: I’m about to tear it off … in protest.

  JOHN: Great protest.

  SANDY: Art has always been the best form of protest.

  JOHN: What do you know about art?

  SANDY: I’m a fan of Guillaume’s work. I’ve always wanted to be in one of his photos.

  JOHN: Glad to re-meet you.

  SANDY: Glad I got you re-trenched.

  JOHN: It was a blessing in disguise.

  SANDY: Good. Happy Ginger Pride Day. I’m Sandy.

  JOHN: John. Happy Valentine’s Day. I’d still really like to take you out to say thank you.

  SANDY: I’m really busy at the moment. I’ve gotta go to work straight after the photo shoot. We’re launching on Saturday.

  JOHN: How’s it all going?

  SANDY: Pretty frantic. I’ve gotta fly to Melbourne for a meeting in the morning and then fly back. City of Sydney are auditioning dancers and tour guides for my company.

  JOHN: I’ve got a big day tomorrow too.

  GUILLAUME re-enters.

  GUILLAUME: Bouge la Rouge! Bouge la Rouge! Okay, tout le monde … we’re ready. Repeat after me: Liberté, égalité, nudité! I said, ‘ nudité’.

  JOHN: I’m feeling really itchy.

  SANDY: Where?

  JOHN: Can you scratch my—?

  GUILLAUME: Stop talking during my photo shoot! [To JOHN] Art demands silence! You don’t understand art. You want to stand out? You can go first, agent provocateur! Who are you supposed to be anyway, Prince Harry in a terrible toupée?

  SANDY: He’s Ginger Meggs.

  GUILLAUME: Well, Megg yourself scarce, Scary Spice!

  JOHN: She’s Ginger Spice.

  GUILLAUME pulls off their wigs.

  GUILLAUME: Qui? Quoi? Qu’est-ce qui ce passe? This is not your real hair! You are brown gingers!

  SANDY: So what?

  GUILLAUME: You look like jaffa cakes. Je déteste choc-orange! This rally is for real redheads only!

  SANDY: Are gay marriage rallies only for gay people?

  GUILLAUME: Today is the celebration of Ginger Pride. To show ‘La Passion du Rouge’. Now you must go.

  JOHN: My face is itchy.

  SANDY: Really?

  JOHN: My throat feels swollen too.

  SANDY: Oh, my God, your face has gone blotchy.

  JOHN starts to panic.

  GUILLAUME: Sors d’ici!

  JOHN: You paprika poisoned me!

  SANDY: Stop being so dramatic. You just need an antihistamine.

  JOHN: My whole body’s itching!

  SANDY: Should I take you to hospital?

  GUILLAUME: Dégagez-vous!

  SANDY: Is your skin okay?

  JOHN: No. It’s super sensitive right now. I think I’ve pumiced too hard.

  GUILLAUME: Cassez-vous!

  SANDY: [to GUILLAUME] We’re not leaving.

  GUILLAUME: Depart!

  SANDY: No!

  GUILLAUME: Merde!

  SANDY: I never thought French people could be so arrogant. What a pig.

  JOHN: I think I need to see a doctor.

  SANDY: I’ll drop you to RPA. Let me Judge Judy this guy first.

  JOHN: [to SANDY] You’re incredible, Sandy.

  GUILLAUME: Allez, quitter, piss off!

  SANDY: We’re not leaving.

  GUILLAUME: You go or I quit!

  SANDY: We’re not getting kicked out of a Ginger Pride rally for not being ginger!

  GUILLAUME: Don’t make me see more red than I already am! If you won’t leave, I will. Tout le monde. We take the bus to La Perouse. The French never win at Waterloo.

  GUILLAUME and DANNO exit.

  SCENE NINE

  JOHN enters with a chair. He sits. MERLE enters.

  MERLE: John Green?

  JOHN: Yes.

  MERLE: Step into my theatre.

  JOHN: Theatre?

  MERLE: My operating theatre.

  JOHN: Doctor, why do I need an operation? It was just an allergic reaction.

  MERLE: Boo!

  JOHN: You? Oh, my God.

  MERLE: What?

  JOHN: Merle, you look strangely like my sister.

  MERLE: I do?

  JOHN: Yeah. It’s an incredible resemblance.

  MERLE: She must be a very beautiful girl.

  JOHN: She’s a brat most of the time. Mum asked me to pick her up from her piano teacher’s house recently. The music teacher’s didn’t believe we were related, so she wouldn’t let Livvy get in the car with me. Livvy thought it was funny and pretended I was a stranger. The teacher called the cops on me! No-one believes we’re related because she’s so fair.

  MERLE: Little white lies.

  JOHN: What are you doing at Prince Alfred Hospital?

  MERLE: Tell me about your allergy? How long have you been hypersensitive?

  JOHN: Since childhood.

  MERLE: Yes. I had this allergy too.

  JOHN: You did?

  MERLE: I was born with it.

  JOHN: You were?

  MERLE: Yes. My childhood in … Tasmania. I was born there, you see. I hated it. I moved to France. I moved to London. I met the right people.

  JOHN: I need to meet the right people too. I need to get this job on ‘Bondi Parade’ tomorrow. Have you started Humperdincking me yet?

  MERLE: I have, but it may not be in the way you’re expecting.

  JOHN: I don’t need any help with my family, I need help with my career. How did you become famous, Merle?

  MERLE: By hiding the truth. My ambition may have taken me to Hollywood, but my deceit took me to the top. I worked with the best of the best. Sir Laurence Olivier. Good old Loz. I took my secret to my deathbed. Even my gravestone says that I was born in Tasmania. It wasn’t until years later that it all came out.

  JOHN: What came out?

  MERLE: I’ll tell you. In standard Merle time. I was trying to pass through to the other
side but I got bailed up for faking my I.D. ‘No devil’s allowed up here. Even if they are Tasmanian,’ they said. ‘How on Earth can I get through? I said. ‘On Earth, indeed. You claim you’re Australian? Then it’s high time you did something for your supposed homeland. The sunburnt country needs a new rebel, requires a new Gandhi! We received mail, ouija mail! Here’s your chance to go back and correct your karma. Recruit the right person, help that candidate find their true identity, then you can move on!’

  JOHN: I’m not your guy, Merle.

  MERLE: I need to shave your head.

  JOHN: What?

  MERLE: You’ll need a walking stick.

  JOHN: Why?

  MERLE: You’ll have to wear glasses.

  JOHN: I prefer contacts.

  MERLE: Circular glasses.

  JOHN: I’m so confused right now.

  MERLE: So we’ll wrap you in a lungi —

  JOHN: What’s a lungi?

  MERLE: You must be abstinent and practise non-violence!

  JOHN: This is a case of mistaken identity.

  MERLE: It’s you. It has to be you.

  JOHN: I just wanna be on ‘Bondi Parade’.

  MERLE: But you’re the Gandhi of Greystanes!

  JOHN: Go away! Leave me alone!

  MERLE goes to exit.

  Wait. Should I still see a doctor for my spice allergy?

  MERLE: I’m your doctor now, John. And the operation has already begun.

  SCENE TEN

  JANELLE enters with a barbecue on wheels. JOHN enters with LIVVY.

  JANELLE: Praise Jesus!

  JOHN: What’s the matter, Janelle? I’m late for my audition.

  JANELLE: What took you so long? I need your help now. It’s an emergency. Barbie’s upset. Aaaaarrrrrrgggghhh! Barbie’s burning!

  JOHN fixes the barbecue.

  JOHN: It’s just the gas.

  JANELLE: Notice anything different about me?

  LIVVY: You’re orange.

  JANELLE: It’s a spray tan from the Beauty Spot salon in the city. Don’t you think I look healthy, wealthy and perky?

  JOHN: You like a Cheezel.

  JANELLE: Well, your face looks a bit red too. Are you hosting kids’ parties again and not telling me?

  JOHN: No, Janelle.

  JANELLE: If I find Elmo or Darth Maul face paint anywhere, you’re in trouble.

  JOHN: What do you want, Janelle? I drove all the way back here to help you and I got fined for talking on the phone.

  JANELLE: Well, get a headset. Like the one you wore to your ‘X Factor’ audition.

  JOHN: I told you never to bring that up again.

  JANELLE: You forgot about Valentine’s Day yesterday.

  JOHN: I thought you hated V Day?

  JANELLE: I just say that.

  JOHN: I’ve been busy with Cockney Convict Walking Tours. It was—is—an all-consuming job.

  JANELLE: We never spend any time together. It’s your day off and you didn’t even wanna spend it with me.

  JOHN: You’re working.

  JANELLE: Well, one of us has to work a proper job.

  JOHN: I’ve gotta get to the audition.

  JOHN goes to leave.

  JANELLE: Wait. I didn’t just call you here to fix Barbie. Dad just told me he wants to retire from Burn Baby Burn to take up a missionary position. He wants me to run the business … but not on my own. I need a right-hand man.

  JOHN: Who else would … oh.

  JANELLE: Quit acting. Quit that crappy convict crap. Burn Baby Burn’s ours. It’s bloody ours, baby. You’ll have full-time job security. A steady income. Sick leave. Compo. I’m a sure thing to win the award this weekend. They’ll brag about me in the local rags? I’ll be famous in the Daily ’Stanes.

  JOHN: I’ve gotta go.

  JANELLE: John, listen to me. I need you all day Saturday. I need you at the pre-awards drinks. I need you to watch me get my make-up done. Then we’ll get a limo to Greystanes RSL. Then I’ll win the award. Then we’ll bask in my glory at the after party. It’s the most important day of my life, our lives and our afterlives. Promise you’ll be there. This Saturday. Swear on my Bible app.

  JOHN: I swear. Saturday I’m all yours.

  LIVVY: Johnny, you’re really late.

  JANELLE: Livvy, can I have a moment with John. Alone?

  LIVVY leaves.

  JANELLE: I know you’re in a rush, but let’s have a quickie.

  JOHN: I’ve got to go.

  JANELLE: It’ll only take a minute.

  JOHN: Later.

  JANELLE: Come on, babe.

  JOHN: You’re such a typical Gemini. One minute you’re a nun, the next minute you’re a nymph. I’m going to my audition.

  JANELLE: Australia only worships sport, John. You know that. You should have kept playing footy. You were so good at it. You would’ve been a star by now. On TV. Regardless of whether you’re black or white or English Irish Dutch French Portuguese or whatever your mum says you are. It doesn’t matter with footy … But acting? Mel Gibson can play a Scotsman. Russell Crowe can play an Italian gladiator—

  JOHN: Janelle, can you stop?

  JANELLE: Nicole Kidman can play a French prozzy.

  JOHN: I don’t wanna talk about this!

  JANELLE: Cate Blanket played the Queen Of England.

  JOHN: Blanchett.

  JANELLE: Meryl Streep played Lindy Chamberlain.

  JOHN: Yeah. And they flew in a dingo from Singapore Zoo to star in that telemovie.

  JANELLE: All dingoes are Aussie, John.

  JOHN: Nah, just the blonde ones. They had to import a black one. They’re the only ones that steal.

  JANELLE: That’s not funny, John.

  JOHN: Yes, it is.

  JANELLE: I’m worried about you, babe. About the future. What characters will you be able to play if you keep trying to be an actor? Taxi drivers?

  JOHN: Is that how you see me?

  JANELLE: No, babe. I see you as my partner. Burn Baby Burn’s the best barbecue warehouse in Western Sydney. It’ll be ours. But you’ve gotta show me how committed you are. We need to make a formal commitment to each other ’cause I can’t live like this anymore. You’ve gotta make a choice. It’s me … or your acting.

  SCENE ELEVEN

  We hear the theme song to ‘Bondi Parade’. JANELLE transforms into the ‘Bondi Parade’ RECEPTIONIST. She answers a phone. JOHN and LIVVY enter.

  RECEPTIONIST: ‘Bondi Parade’ casting. Tricia speaking. Yes, we’ve received the Logie Award invitations. We’ll get back to you shortly. ’Bye.

  JOHN: Good afternoon. I’m John Green. I’m here for the—

  RECEPTIONIST: Oh, thanks for coming at short notice.

  JOHN: Umm, that’s okay.

  RECEPTIONIST: Where are the other three cleaners?

  JOHN: I’m not a cleaner. I’m here for the audition. Here’s my headshot. I’ve got a sporty one, a suited one, this one’s with stubble and in this one I’m wearing fake glasses. Oh, and this is my goofy comic one—I’ve got my mouth wide open—see?

  RECEPTIONIST: Casting’s finished. You’re two hours late.

  JOHN: What?

  LIVVY: Just let him in.

  RECEPTIONIST: Soz. No can do.

  JOHN: I’ve been looking forward to this audition. I’ve been preparing for this role my whole life.

  RECEPTIONIST: The producers have left.

  JOHN: I played a skull called Yorick in Bankstown Drama Society’s Halal Hamlet. I played a statue in Pygmalion … the reviewer said I was deeply ‘moving’.

  RECEPTIONIST: It’s just an extra role.

  LIVVY: His drama teacher said he was extra-ordinary.

  RECEPTIONIST: Then you’re over-qualified.

  LIVVY: Then what’s the problem, lady?

  RECEPTIONIST: You’re just not the look they’re going for.

  LIVVY: What do you mean he’s not the right look?

  RECEPTIONIST: I’m not saying ‘right’, they just took a different dire
ction.

  JOHN: I’m great with direction … even if they’re different.

  RECEPTIONIST: Go away!

  JOHN: I played Camper Number Two in Away.

  RECEPTIONIST: I’ll call the police.

  JOHN: Please don’t. I’ve pumiced myself for weeks now.

  RECEPTIONIST: I beg your pardon?

  LIVVY: John, let’s go.

  JOHN: Please let me stay. Just let me sit in the green room.

  RECEPTIONIST: Look, if you’re that desperate for some work, apparently City of Sydney are holding auditions across the road for something or other. You might be better suited for that.

  The RECEPTIONIST leaves.

  JOHN: City of Sydney?

  Pause.

  Livvy. I’m gonna pretend to be Aboriginal.

  LIVVY: What?

  JOHN: If anyone asks, I’m Aboriginal.

  LIVVY: You not allowed to say that word.

  JOHN: It’s an Aboriginal dance company. I met the artistic director. I’m gonna audition.

  LIVVY: You can’t say Aboriginal anymore, Johnny. They told us at school.

  JOHN: I’m gonna pretend to be Indigenous, then.

  LIVVY: Better. But still not cool.

  JOHN: Livvy, I’m deadly!

  LIVVY: John, this is unethical.

  JOHN: Ethics. Ethnics. Same diff.

  LIVVY: Indigenous Australians aren’t ethnic.

  JOHN: I know. It’s just a joke, Livvy. Chill out. It’s so hard to be PC these days.

  LIVVY: You’ve lost the plot. We’re going home.

  JOHN: No, we’re not. We’re goin’ bush.

  JOHN and LIVVY exit.

  SCENE TWELVE

  The City of Sydney PRODUCER enters.

  PRODUCER: Thank you, John. That was an interesting interpretative dance.

  JOHN: Glad you liked it, brudda. So are there only white fellas on this board? Where’s Sandy?

  PRODUCER: Sandy sent you? Oh, good. She’s caught up in Melbourne where they’re holding auditions for the Victorian troupe.

  JOHN: Right on, sista. That’s deadly.

  PRODUCER: Deadly indeed. Well, we loved your audition. The job’s yours.

  JOHN: Really?

  PRODUCER: Yes, we love Sandy. She’s got a great eye for talent. Rehearsals start tomorrow. First tour launches this Saturday.

  JOHN: Saturday?

  PRODUCER: Yes. It says on your application that you’re available to start work straight away. You didn’t lie on your application?

 

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