There's a bit of Shakespeare in all of us.

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Farce in three acts

Copyright 1987, Richard R. Kennedy [Photo by MS MIC]

M a n ( ? ) T h r o u g h T h e A g e s

 CAST

The Graces [children] * Adam and Eve * Ape * Serpent * Narrator * Girl Tree * Boar * Boy Plant * Girl 2 * Judy * Kong * Son of Kong * Faye * Clytaemnestra * Electra * Savages * Orestes [earlier Ira] * Theseus * Helen * Dedalus * Penelope * Tax Collector * Old Hag [old Helen] * Penelope's Children [two boys] * Robbie * Olivia Neutron * Aphrodite * Merchant [Kong] * High Priest * Mob * Ira [sentry] * Peace [old Clytaemnestra] * Naomi * War * Scores of Flower Children * Flower Children One and Two * Soldiers * Principal [Dedalus modernized] * ass't Principal [Kong modernized] * Wendy * Ivan's Woman [Helen restored] * Ivan [as a child] * Ivan [as a teenager] * Gloria [as a child] * Gloria [as a teenager] * Contented Coffee Drinkers * Naomi's Children * Erinyes [teenagers]

                                    Prologue

NARRATOR: [Spiffy young lady dressed in a pinstripe suit walks onto proscenium] The cast of struggling novitiates in the theater arts, cautiously presents this ordinary farce with the hope that you, the courageous audience, will endure the execution—please, by all means, excuse the crude pun—of this foolhardy attempt, with total disregard for accurate time frames, to misinterpret man throughout our ridiculous history and legends. As you can see from the television cameras stationed about you, the world awaits our venture to assess man's development so they can at last arrive at nervous self-identity. Since we are being televised, naturally the performance will be rudely interrupted by uplifting commercials in which we all curiously, inadvertently and devoutly believe. Furthermore--this is mainly for the critic, since the audience has learned to adjust to life's impure bombardments—these mercantile respites relieve us from the heavy undertones of unaccustomed truth. [A stage hand runs out with a long print-out and hands it to her; she sits down on a chair, crosses her legs and proceeds to read the long paper, quickly running it through her hands from beginning to end. She rises trailing the paper along the floor and returns proscenium center.] Apparently, the world is indeed watching: our switch-boards backstage are jammed already by the women's movement —it appears that the title of our play has been changed to "Person's Through The Ages". [She rolls up the paper and prepares to leave.] Have no fear, however, that this will change the theme, merely its sex. Sit back, try to relax and may you have edifying catnaps when the author gets intolerably heavy-handed. [Black director in striped tank shirt meets her halfway and hands her a bongo drum on which a message is clearly written; she holds it up to the audience] Can all of you read this? Well, it appears that the director—the gentleman who just put in a rare appearance—informs me that the play is to now be titled simply "Soul"—or lack of it? [She exits, pounding drum, which is then overlaid with louder drums back stage.]

 [Traveler opens; b.s. light on picture of earth from space; dark stage, on center, blue spotlight up gradually on three very little girls, The Graces—no older than six—sitting back to back, knees up, arms on back of thighs, foreheads on knees, arms slowly extend upward, heads are raised while chanting]

The Graces: This lonely ball propelled, rebounded and spun crazily on the billiard table of space from one cued explosion to the next until the cue-player mercifully did pause to drink, spilling cool water on the overheated ball, whence little more than chance embodied us [they gracefully point to themselves] to play out its endless game. [they rise, remaining back to back, whirling toward exit, eurhythmically chanting]

Game perhaps is not the name for life with serious strife though mercifully with jest 'tis blest. [exit]

GREEN LIGHTS UP; RED LIGHT ON APPLE TREE IN BLOSSOM, STAGE CENTER; ANOTHER TREE UPSTAGE WITH A BANANA HANGING FROM IT; DRUMS INCREASE; JUNGLE SOUND EFFECTS INTERMIX

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