The painting [an existential play/short film with some meaning]

Draft 1:

Scene 1:

Darkness. The sound of a cigarette being lit. A ruffling of cloth and a pair of feet appear. The room in the background is semi-trashed, painting utensils litter the ground. Canvases lean against a distant wall. The wall is blank and contains a door in the middle. In one corner rests a lone mattress, obviously been slept in. In the other corner sits a beat-down sofa. Light enters from a window toward the left. The feet move slowly back till a man is visible till his shoulders. The cigarette drops from his hand. Moment of silence. He moves forward and lifts the painting and places it up high so it overlooks the entire room. He steps a few paces back, picks the cigarette and takes a deep drag and stumbles back towards his mattress. A phone is located and he begins to dial hurriedly.

Painter: it's me. Stuff was great, but that not why I'm calling...

*Fade with sounds of a conversation*


Scene 2:

Two faces stare up at the painting. The painter lights a new cigarette whilst his grubby friend removes his dark shades and stares in momentary awe at the painting before him. They both move back and face each other, trying to avoid what is infront of them.

Painter: told you. *Takes a drag* its insane. Ludicrous. Its not my work, cant be man.

Grubby friend: be logical. This has to be your painting. The question is, how did you achieve it...and more importantly *stares hard at the painting with obvious hostility* what does it all mean?

Painter: Too much coke? Little Squeaky Dogs? Who knows. It's a trip, but not really. *Pause* last night was a blast. The stuff kept me going for hours...I blanked *a nervous note enters his voice* I don't know what I've done.

Grubby friend: its obvious isn't it? *Stares hard at the painting* The damn thing doesn't stand for anything. Simply the work of a crazed mind on acid. *Grudgingly* Its good though...makes me wonder...I should stop dealing acid to people who cant keep a grip on reality. Lighten up man, that looks like a bad trip. No point in fretting over all that doesn't even exist, the world's a bad enough place as it is. Get out; go find a real job dammit. You're pushing the limits as it is.

Painter: You don't get it do you? .... *Laughs bitterly and starts prancing about room* its not you I need. You lack the essence man, drug dealings taken it all out of you.... Forgotten what it's all about. *Mumbles* tuned in, I need someone who's tuned in...*Keeps pacing*

Grubby Friend: *putting shades on and backing off to mattress* gotta face reality man, life isn't about, that *points finger at painting* no more. Never was come to think of it *moves right up to painting...buncha kids think we know what we're doing. Ive been in the real world! *points hard again with shaking finger* sure as hell isn't that. What are we fighting for anyway? I don't see it. The cold cash in my hand says much more than this here. So you made something pretty, so what? Am I the one who owns a Chevy or you? Its useless.
*Shrugs and moves back to mattress* c'mere. I roll one up for old time's sake, this ones on me. Chill damn you! You've got me on edge. Why dontchu call that chick of yours...*reaches for crumpled photograph lying next to mattress* sweet piece of ass you've got there..Call her up.... She'll know what the hell it's all about...Hell she claims to know everything related to you...

*Fade with conversation*


Scene 3:

The same room. Smoky, with less light entering through window. A singular girl's face is pressed up to the painting. She backs off and stares intently and then covers her face with her hands. The painter comes up behind her and holds her around the waist. A second girl sits with Grubby friend smoking a joint and fiddling with the settings on a stereo system she brought along. Soft ambient music floats through the room as the painter pulls his girlfriend towards the painting and kisses her gently.

Painter: I love you

Girlfriend: and I you.... *Kiss again and then turn towards painting, hugging each other* babe it scares me, its so beautiful.... Its, its you...everything inside of you.... Ive seen it all before, when you kiss me...when you hold me...its pure sensation, carnal, raw, controlled, tense...its love.... *Turns to him* you love me don't you? *Pause* say it.

Painter: I love you *breaks hold of her and goes to smoke joint* *change of music, moody, melancholy ambient*

Girlfriend: *presses in closer* yes, I see it all. *Laughs* its so simple honey.... Why did you sound so upset on the phone babe...its just you *look of doubt* talking to me, through your work. I always wanted you to make me something beautiful which was all about us, and this is definitely It.. This is mine *smiles to herself* all mine. *Backs off* ... So beautiful, what do you think we should call it? It must have a name.

Grubby friend: I think the man here deserves to call it what he likes...personally I think it partially belongs to me, my drugs you know, that's what made it.

Annoying Girl: *finally looks up from fiddling with her stereo system - soundtrack changes to fast paced drum & bass* Call it Brainwave patterns.

Painter: *sullenly* yeah? *Takes a drag* why?

Annoying girl: cause that's all it is. Like this music *turns volume up on techno* Listen carefully. A pattern. Just like that *jumps and moves to painting dancing slowly* Its not hard understanding this. You took drugs, you slept, whatever. It's all about neuron connections in your brain. Hell think about it. There's nothing but this big ol' brain. The moment science figures out what the hell we can do with it running on full potential presto! *Snaps fingers at painting, music is changed by grubby friend to something melodic/melancholy* we'll all have one of these in our living room. *Pause, sound of a lighter* its beautiful though.... I wish I knew how.... I'm sure I know why.... *Presses up close* I must know why, its all so easy if one looks at it objectively *moment of fear...I quite like it...*pause*
*backs off and takes the joint being passed around* Its not yours though, you do realize.... It belongs to all humanity really.... Jung would be proud of you.

*knock on the door - music turned off. Annoying girl goes to the door and opens it partially*

Annoying girl: Well! I suppose you would be perfect for this job... come in, come in, see what you can make of it...

*fade with conversation*

Scene 4:

A new girl is staring blankly into the painting. She is dressed in robes and is obviously a bastard-child left over from the hippie generation, sporting a peace medallion and flowers in her hair. Jefferson Airplane plays in the background.

Hippie chick: This is what we've been waiting for... a sign, a sign from the soul within us crying out to be understood... *smiles and spreads her arms backing off* at last the world will understand the true nature of the human spirit. Its all about harmony, peace... live and let live... and its sooo psychedelic! Someone pass me a joint *grubby friend helps her out* Groovy! That's the word.... Its so, so unfashionable! *moves close to the painting* It's a rebellion against all that I hate... this stupid filthy world which just doesn't understand what it needs... well this'll show it! After all, isn't the world about not conforming? Isn't that what's really cool? *turns to the others*
*snaps angrily* well! Don't you all see it? Hmm? Let me guess, your stupid little minds filled with your own mundane experiences tried to figure it out and failed miserably hmm?

Annoying girl: well actually we all have it figured out... just wanted to see whether you saw it... too bad you're way off mark... *aside* damn hippie

Hippie chick: Figured out! I'm sure I'm sure... I know exactically what it is... its individuality... freedom... different, apart from the masses who are in truth, loathsome if you knew them

Grubby friend: *aside* and I'm sure you know all of us of course...

Hippie chick: *glaring* of course I know all of you! I'm in this room aren't I? *turns back to painting* my darling will know what to do with this....it must be seen...

*fade with conversation as hippie chick moves to telephone*

Scene 5:

Older man wearing a trenchcoat, sporting a beard and a cigar in his mouth stares intently at the painting holding hippie chick around waist. The rest stand at a distance in silence. All outside light is gone. A yellow ceiling light casts shadows downward upon the small crowd. No music plays.

Older man: its exciting yes...very unique.... Don't think there's ever been anything like this since the Mona Lisa.... Damned if I can see a smile in this one though...it'll be a sensation! Controversy! It's got the raw passion of a mad bohemian *kisses hippie chick* love you darling, but go smoke a joint or something, I'm busy here...*hippie chick walks back to mattress, turns on Bob Dylan*
*waves absentmindedly at her* Peace, and all that...where was I? Ah yes; the raw passion of a mad bohemian yet instilled with the subtleness of Socratic logic! You shall have people raving to see it. Money, wealth...there's a lot of money in this boy! Good job! We can declare it to be... Something abstract... yes I rather like that title.... Something abstract.... Keep it absolutely vague so no one knows what the hell is going on. They'll pay money for it I warrant. *Winks at the painting*

Painter: yes, yes! Money fame and glory but tell me, what do you think it means?

Older Man: Means? You fool! Who cares what it means...*gets close* probably nothing. It means you can have a penthouse instead of this dump. Move up in life a little yknow...*melancholy* what else are we living for? Damn nuisance is life without the dough to live it...*backs up* There's money in it I tell you.... Have a cigar *cigar is promptly taken and grubby friend begins to roll it* Hire me as an agent and you'll see...we can reach the top together...but perhaps we need a little more insanity. Gotta have the right type of people, the right type of parties if you're going to make it big...let me see if I can round up some people....

Annoying girl: ill get the phone!

Girlfriend: ooh! A party! A party to celebrate! *Hugs painter who seems lost* It'll be great honey...a celebration for you and me! And the painting!

Grubby Friend: Let's see.... Wonder if I have enough on me for all this *scrounges in pockets*

*Fade with conversation*

Scene 6:

Music is kicking and the room has four new occupants. Three men and one woman dressed in bizarre party outfits are sharing drinks among all. Near the sofa, Grubby friend and Older man are sharing lines of coke taken off a magazine. The music is funk/acid jazz.

First Man: Here here! Pass out the shots, pass out the shots! Ain't no fun till we're trashed!

Female: a toast! I call a toast! What the hell should we toast to?

Older Man: *standing up* a toast to the marmalade! My, I should sell that line to someone...it has potential!

*Laughter, absurdities*

Painter: *subdued, turns to painting as does whole crowd except grubby friend and older man who lie on couch - break in music as CD ends* A toast to the unimaginable and the imagined...*they drink* what say we give this painting one more shot

First Man: Another shot! Great idea if there ever was one. Cmon fill up, don't be chicken shit about it. Aright, now I propose a toast. *Goes up to the painting* A toast to good times! *rave music turned low comes on* That's what it's all about. *They drink* You had a good time before you made it and you're having a good time now! Hell that's what life is all about! The good times! So let's make em happen eh! Another round *glasses filled*

Painter: But please, doesn't anyone see it like I do, or am I wrong? What's it all about? It's confusing. Change the music someone, it's throbbing in my brain.

Annoying Girl: I have just the thing. *Goes to stereo system and changes track - Jungle music* A toast to the music and the madness! A toast! Let's toast these brains and see if we can find the answer! *They drink, some of the crowd starts dancing in the back*

Painter: What's going on dammit? I demand an answer!

Older Man: don't we all! Don't we all! Here, let me at that! *Painting is lifted and placed on the ground. The ceiling light glares down on it. Shadows of mad dancing people above*




5 endings to play:

1: The party turns wild and the painting is deliberately destroyed with gobs of paint thrown by the drunken mob. The End.

2: The party turns wild and paint and canvases are thrown about till fade. Next morning, the painter wakes up to find a second canvas next to the first painting. He unveils it and backs up, absolutely mute. The End.

3: The party turns wild and paint and canvases are thrown about till fade. Next morning, the painter wakes up to find a second canvas next to the first painting. He unveils it and backs up in terror to the phone and starts dialing. Another Fade, leading into final sequence of a crowd of people staring intently into both paintings. The End.

4: The party turns wild and goes insanely out of hand, leading to an accidental fire resulting from a cigarette cast upon the painting itself. The End.

5: The party goes insane and the room is shown from a different angle, reflecting upon the drunken mob and the painting, which is:

A: a mirror reflection.

B: a blank canvas.

C: a silent/still audience watching the drunken mob. The End.





Please do not steal/rip off this piece. Its the property of Jahanzaib Haque...just dont do it!!! The concept is Zain Shariq's...dont rip that off either! (If you do, you shall be raped by a goat at some point in your miserable life).