R.I.P. Dirty Creatures, 2005 – 2009

Remember way back when I started this blog, how I would talk about my great full length play?

The one that was going to shake New Zealand audiences, would play it so close to the edge it would be … er … edgy? My grand opus?

Remember?

Three and a half drafts later, it is time to put my beloved dirty creatures to rest. Yes. To the dark recesses of the hard drive (with a CD copy) it will be committed, never to be seen or heard again.

Over the years I have tried to craft it, I have forgotten what it was that I wanted to say. Even when I was writing it, the premise was not always clear to me. The idea of a artist blowing himself up was intriguing (that was the surprise ending), but I could never get the idea to fully develop into something satisfying.

I don’t know whether this counts as a failure or just part of the journey to something better. I’ve learnt a few lessons from it – for starters, doing a treatment is a really good way to structure a play and if you can’t summarise your play in a sentence, then it’s not going to be clear to the audience either. Well that’s certainly the case for me. At the moment, I don’t feel like I have anything meaningful to say and if anything, I want my work to be meaningful. I don’t want to just be writing for the sake of writing.

There are bits of prose that I’ve been working on (you’ve seen some of it already) and there are a couple of satire pieces I’m working on. But for now, anyway, I think my voice is still to come and that my best writing will arrive in a few years yet.

Just not now.

Daily Cerealisation: Dirty Creatures – Ep 11. (Shiny new version)

Guard B resumes shaving the Playwright while the other two guards hold him down.

Guard B: So, you write?
.
Pay well?
.
Ever thought about throwing it all in?
.
My boy here thinks he’s a bit of a poet.

Guard A: Mum!

Guard B: What did I say?

Guard A: Sorry ma’am.

Guard B: Go on, read him some of your stuff.

Guard A: No!

Guard B: He’s modest. I said, read it to him, or I’ll do it for you.

Guard A: I don’t, I don’t know any.

Guard B: What about that one you’ve got in your pocket?

Guard A: No.

Guard B: Waiting for a quiet moment to meet him?

Guard A: No I wasn’t.

Guard B: So you do have one on you? Give it here.
.
I said, give it here.

She reads the following to herself. It’s up to the production to decide how and whether this poem is ever revealed …
The poem reads: You showed me the horizon
You wanted me to see,
Your happy children dancing in the sunlight,
Without a care, Lasezze faise
In fraternity,
In liberty,
In property and prosperity

But I couldn’t see anything
Except sky
And earth
And rain
And you mad at me because I could not see
My own hand in front of my face
The truth in front of my eyes, that I was calling lies
You called me a dirty creature – unintelligent, wilfully negligent of
Your feelings
Your hopes
Your desires
And you would not believe me
When I said that all I could see
Was sky
And earth
And rain

Guard B: What is this?

Guard A: Nothing.

Guard B: What’s that?

Guard A: It’s nothing ma’am.

Guard B: Shall I show it to our friend here?

Leader’s Guard: Oh, I don’t (like poems) …

Guard A: No!

Guard B screws up the poem into a ball and drops it. She returns to shaving the Playwright.

Guard B: Go home.

Guard A: What?

Guard B: You’re dismissed, go home.

Guard A: I’m not (going home) …

Guard B: Stand down Sergeant. You’re no longer required today.

Guard A leaves. The set up continues in the room.

So, about that play

One of the disadvantages of posting a work in progress is that you will go back and throw out whole chunks because the bit you wrote just doesn’t work.

So last night I threw out the last three pages of the play because it didn’t progress the story as well as I wanted it to. The last two episodes are no longer, so I’ve password protected them out of the canon (and so I’ve got them on archive in case I want to reuse that material later). The new shiny bits will go up later today, but if you are curious about what the changes are and want to compare the password is: It’s crap

Because it really, really is …

Protected: Daily Cerealisation – Dirty Creatures, Ep 12 (old version)

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Protected: Daily Cerealisation: Dirty Creatures – Ep 11. (Old version)

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Daily Cerealisation: Dirty Creatures – Ep 10.

Guard A and the Leader’s Guard take the Playwright into the bathroom. Guard B opens the hotel room door, signals down the corridor and pulls in a laundry trolley. She takes the bag off the end and pulls out the shirt, the hoodie and new wiring. She lays them out on the table. She prepares a shaving kit next to the shirt. While she does this, a variety of technicians come in and start to wire up the room with light stands, reflectors, microphones etc, creating an interview area. The Playwright, Guard A and the Leader’s Guard re-enter the room. They dress the Playwright taking care to wire him up properly. Guard B sits in front of him and begins to shave him with a razor. The other Guards begin to wire him up, the Playwright struggles.

Guard B: Stay still 228, you wouldn’t want me to accidentally cut your throat now would you?

Playwright: I don’t care.

Guard B: Hey, you know what, that’s fine with me, I really don’t care. Of course, it does mean that I’m going to have to tell, er … what’s their names again?

Leader Guard: Mei and Lily.

Guard B: Yes, Mei and Lily … I just don’t quite know what words to use with such little ones. How do you tell them that their father would rather die that seeing them without creating too much trauma?
.
You do want to see them, don’t you?
.
Good.

© Sonal Patel, 2007

Daily Cerealisation: Dirty Creatures – Ep 9.

2.

The lights snap up as the Playwright suddenly regains consciousness. He sits up with a start. He is in a plush hotel room. He looks around confused. He is now in a dressing gown, he feels around his stomach, it’s sore but there are no wires. He climbs out of bed and opens the bathroom door. Inside, two of the NZ guards are playing cards. They look up from their game, the Playwright slams the door shut again, he opens the curtains and one of the Leader’s guards is having a smoke. The guards re-enter the room.

Guard B: Good morning 228.

Guard A: Number 228 you will stand at the front of your Residence with your hands raised, (palms open) …

Guard B: No, you don’t need to do that here.

Guard A: I thought every opportunity is a good (opportunity) …

Guard B: It’s inappropriate here.

Guard A: Why.

Guard B: Because we’re no longer in a prison you moron.

Guard A: Mum! Not in front (of him).

Guard B: And don’t call me that when we’re working.

Guard A: Fine, sir.

Guard B: Watch it you. Go get him showered.

© Sonal Patel, 2007

Daily Cerealisation: Dirty Creature – Ep 8.

The Leader’s guards restrain the playwright as the prison guards begin to remove the books, pens, pencils – anything that is vaguely sharp and/or can be used as a missile.

Playwright: Get it off me! Get this fucking thing off me!

The Dictator and the Leader speak over the Playwright’s cries, for the most part ignoring him.

Leader: I think that was successful.

Dictator: I’m still not convinced that he needed to be briefed.

Leader: Oh, rubbish, look at him.

Playwright: You fucking monsters!

Leader: He’s got passion, he’s alive and he still has hope. Hope is important for us.

Playwright: I’ll fucking die before I become a martyr for you.

Leader: Yes, that’s the spirit. I’d like the family to be at the press conference.

Dictator: Yes, that should be fine, I can’t see any problem with that.

Leader: We’ll reunite them there.

Playwright: Let go of me!

Dictator: Are you sure that’s wise.

Leader: Oh yes, the dramatic moment, it will play so well. Especially in hindsight.

Playwright: I’m not helping you!

Leader: Good for you. We can’t afford to do it without him. We don’t want to look like our friends in the West.

Dictator: We are in the West.

Leader: The Pacific. You’re the nice guys of the Pacific remember? We need to keep that for as long as possible.

Dictator: I understand all of that, sir, but he …

Playwright: You fucking cunts! You won’t get away with this!

Dictator: … can’t be trusted in front of the press.

Leader: I know. I’m relying on it.
.

Dictator: Fine.

Leader: You don’t want to check with your Prime Minister?

Dictator: She trusts that I will make the best decision for the party.

Leader: Good. We need to coordinate this quickly. I have an excellent media director who can start working on this straight away.

Playwright: You’re not going to fucking make me do this, I’ll fucking kill you!

Dictator:They will need to work in conjunction with our senior advisor.

Leader: Of course, we need to make sure that the message is (consistent) … look do you mind, my lot have something that will calm him down.

Dictator: You managed to get them in with you?

Leader: Of course. You’ve got one on you haven’t you Mei?

Leader’s Guard (Mei): Yes sir.

The Dictator nods, the Leader nods at his Guard, the Guard produces a syringe and puts the needle into the Playwright. Slowly the playwright becomes limp. The lights begin to fade to black as he loses consciousness.

Leader: Where was I?

Dictator: Consistency. We can’t afford to have any contradictions.

Leader: You don’t want it to be too perfect either, you still need to bluster and stumble too. How about some one on one interviews? I can get you BBC, CNN, Al Jazeera English, Star News …

Dictator: We can give you John Campbell, Mark Sainsbury, we could probably even dust off Paul Holmes …

Leader: Never heard of them, are they useful?

Dictator: More for me than you.

© Sonal Patel, 2007

Daily Cerealisation: dirty creatures – Ep 7.

Leader: What do you mean what do I mean? If they stay here, your daughters are going to think that father is a terrorist. It isn’t going to help their self esteem or career prospects in the long term.

Playwright: I’m not a terrorist.

Leader: Well not now Nate, I mean later obviously, it’s better for a child to think a government is to blame for his death rather than … why are you looking at me … why is he looking at me like this is the first time he’s … this is the first time he’s heard this isn’t it … you didn’t brief him?

Dictator: Not quite sir, you arrived before I had the chance to tell him.

Leader: Do I have to do every(thing) … give me the notes. Here read this. No wait. You can’t read this bit, or this bit … probably not this bit … actually, maybe not this page, I’ll just paraphrase it for you … this page too. Oh yeah, definitely not this one, I’ll get into a lot of trouble (if you see this) …

Playwright: You can’t kill me.

Leader: We’re not killing you, you’re killing you.

Playwright: No I’m not.

Leader: You’re the one strapped with explosives, you figure out how that’s going to end.

Playwright: What?

Dictator: Ah, sir?

Leader: What? I’m just paraphrasing.

Dictator: Yes sir, but as I mentioned before I hadn’t briefed (him yet).

Leader: Briefed him yet. Yes, shit.

Playwright: I’m not blowing myself up.

Leader: Yes you are.

Playwright: No I’m not and you can’t make me.

Leader: We can, you will.

Playwright: Why?

Leader: What do you mean why … You see, this is why you should have briefed him.

Dictator: You don’t need to know why 228.

Playwright: Fuck off Mark. I’m not giving up my life for any of you.

Leader: Yes, I thought you might say that, so we came prepared. Do you want to do this, or shall I?

Dictator:Your willingness to participate is irrelevant …

Leader: You are already wired up ready to go.
.
I could already tell you were going to take too long.

The playwright tries to lift his hoodie but it is partly wired up to his shirt.

© Sonal Patel, 2007

Daily Cerealisation: dirty creatures – Ep 6.

Playwright: Terrorist?

Leader: Only with the family included.

Dictator: It wouldn’t work without them.

Leader: Excellent, what does his (wife do?) …

Playwright: Wait, (why are you calling me a terrorist?) …

Leader: What does your wife do?

Dictator: His partner is journalist.

Playwright: I’m not (a terrorist) …

Leader: Partner?

Dictator: Yes.

Leader: Female?

Dictator: Yes.

Leader: And they have kids?

Dictator: Yes.

Leader: And they’re still not married?

Dictator: No.

Leader: That’s going to be a bit difficult to play at home … Fine, we’ll just say that you wouldn’t let them get married.

Playwright: What do you (want with my family?)

Dictator: No, you can’t do that, sir.

Leader: Yes we can.

Dictator: No you can’t.

Leader: Why not?

Dictator: Because it’s not true, it’s obviously not true.

Leader: No one will notice.

Dictator: Yes, they will. Who in their right mind is going to believe that?

Leader: Who is going to care? And even if they do, think of it as putting New Zealand on the map. It’ll be Lange in ’84 all over again …

Dictator: Oh, please.

Leader: Oxford Union Lange. Witty, charismatic … witty …

Dictator: I hadn’t thought of it like that.

Leader: That’s why you’re a deputy.

Dictator: Yes, sir, it gives me the opportunity to learn from the best … Yes, foreign powers telling blatant lies, ugly untruths, complete fiction … I think I could work that angle.

Playwright: I want to see my family.

Dictator: They’re not yours anymore 228.

Leader: Don’t be over dramatic. Nate, it’s nothing like that, of course they’re still yours. Of course you’ll get to see them.

Playwright: I want them with me.

Leader: Here? Why? Look at it from this angle: we whip your family home, where we can set them up to speak out against your treatment with TV, radio, print campaigns. We can do one of those viral email outs, better still we can do get you a Facebook or Bebo profile – start an online campaign, make it really grass roots, produce wristbands, t-shirts, funky limited edition cloth bags to get that visual out on the street. From there we start bringing out the heavy hitters: Chomsky, Pilger, Bono and me, obviously, in support these, these … these … what am I getting?

Dictator: Mother and two girls.

Leader: No sons?

Dictator: I’m afraid not.

Leader: Excellent, even better. It’s progressive. We are supporting these strong women, helping them start new lives where they will thrive and become an inspiration for other women. We’ll provide them with everything they need. Your wife …

Dictator: Partner.

Leader: Partner, yes, it’s Progressive. Your partner will have her own office with several assistants where she can write Op-Eds for our leading paper as well as guest columns for the New York Times, The Guardian, New Statesman, Sydney Morning Herald, Washington Post … oh and Al-Jazeera, they’ll really love this … Think about her Nate? Think about … What’s her name?

Dictator: Jessica.

Leader: Jessica … Jessica … Jessie? Jess. Yes, that sounds good. Jess. Think about Jess, Nate. Think about what’s best for her. You know she’ll never get an opportunity like this here. Think about her future and all that she will able to provide on her large salary.

.

Playwright: What does she have to do?

Leader: Do?

Playwright: For her generous pay packet.

Leader: Nothing. Not a thing at all. She is allowed to come with us and do nothing if she pleases. We wouldn’t be so vulgar to force anything upon her. Obviously, there will be some knock on effects from her just coming with us, things that are entirely independent of us. It is possible that I will be seen as a … well, hero isn’t the right word is it? It’s more like … rescuer, possibly, in some eyes, a diplomat, statesman, a true Leader who believes in diplomacy first, a peace maker, someone who didn’t need to go to war, to commit troops or unlimited amounts of tax payer’s money to achieve a result. Efficient, intelligent, wise. That’s just some of the things that may be said and who knows what prizes may follow, but honestly, we really don’t know, it’s just a side effect. The most important thing is the welfare of your family, everything else is secondary.

Playwright: You can’t take my family.

Leader: Yes I can.

Playwright: No you can’t, their not you yours.

Leader: They are now Nate.

Playwright: You just (said) …

Leader: In spirit, they will always be yours and yes, you will get to see them, but they can’t stay here. It’s not like you’re going be of any use to them for much longer.

Playwright: What do you mean?

© Sonal Patel, 2007