Precious Little Talent E-Book

Ella Hickson

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

A touching and funny play about 20-somethings graduating into a world that's sold them down the river. Joey's got a first-class degree, 20k worth of debt and works in a pub. Shunned by the world, rejected by her estranged father, she finds herself falling in love with an idealistic young American… Ella Hickson's play Precious Little Talent was first performed at the Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh, in August 2009, as part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. A revised, full-length production opened at the Trafalgar Studios, London, in April 2011.

Leseprobe

Ella Hickson

PRECIOUS LITTLE TALENT

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

Dedication and Epigraph

Acknowledgements

Original Production

Characters

Act One

Act Two

Act Three

Epilogue

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

For Simon

With thanks for his optimism

‘The difficulty is that the English are finding it impossible to give any account of themselves except for identities that they are dragging up from the past. There has never been a time when some coherent account of English National Identity was more needed.’

Krishan Kumar

‘American Democracy: a tradition based on the simple idea that we have a stake in each other and that what binds us together is greater than what drives us apart and if enough people believe in the truth of that proposition and act on it then we might not solve every problem but we can get something meaningful done.’

Barack Obama

‘E pluribus unum’ – ‘Out of the many, one.’

Motto on an American one cent coin

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank, first and foremost the Jameses; James Dacre for his relentless energy and commitment to high standards and James Quaife for his super-human ability to make things happen at short notice. I thank them both for working round the clock, for keeping the faith and for having the tenacity and tolerance to have maintained a sense of humour when things have got tough.

I would like to thank Simon Ginty, Emma Hiddleston, John McColl, Cat Hobart, Xander Macmillan, Polly Bennett and Jessica Winch. Much of the original script was influenced by conversations with these people. I consider myself hugely lucky to have worked with such talented collaborators.

I would like to thank Katherine Mendelsohn, David Greig, Carol Tambor and Kent Lawson.

Finally, my thanks go to Jess Cooper and my family for their unfaltering support.

Ella Hickson

Precious Little Talent was first performed at the Bedlam Theatre, Edinburgh, on 6 August 2009, as part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, with the following cast:

SAM

Simon Ginty

JOEY

Emma Hiddleston

GEORGE

John McColl

Director

Ella Hickson

Technical Manager

Xander Macmillan

Stage Manager

Cat Hobart

Movement Director

Polly Bennett

Producer

Jess Winch for Tantrums Ltd

A revised full-length production transferred to the Trafalgar Studios, London, on 5 April 2011, with the following cast:

SAM

Anthony Welsh

JOEY

Olivia Hallinan

GEORGE

Ian Gelder

Director

James Dacre

Designer

Lucy Osborne

Lighting Designer

Mark Jonathan

Sound Designer

Emma Laxton

Producer

James Quaife for Tantrums Ltd

Characters

SAM, nineteen, American

JOEY, twenty-three, English

GEORGE, sixty-one, English, Joey’s father

The play takes place in

New York, December, 2008

New York, February, 2009

London, April, 2011

ACT ONE

One

Late night.

Christmas Eve, 2008.

A rooftop – New York City.

SAM (to audience). It’s Christmas Eve in the winter of two thousand eight and the night is cruel and beautiful and it feels like it’s the first time it’s ever been that way. I’m sitting on a rooftop, downtown New York City; in front of me midtown, pouring out into the night like a million luminous toothpicks, but right around me is black, black and death. I’m nineteen and I’ve got an erection, right tight into the front of my pants ’cos I can feel a woman’s breath on the left side of my neck. This nervous little breath, panting, just beneath my ear; the moisture in it licking at me in the dark night and I so desperately want to turn around and suck that in, so desperately – but I keep my hands on my thighs, just like this and I say ‘hey’.

JOEY. Hey.

SAM. What’s your name?

JOEY. Joey.

SAM. No shit, mine too!

JOEY. Really?

SAM. No, it’s Sam. I’m sorry – I don’t know why I just said that.

(To audience.) She laughs this funny little laugh and it sounds funny so I say –

You sound funny.

JOEY. I’m English.

SAM (to audience). She says, all like that, all ‘I’m English’, like that.

(To JOEY.) So you’re British, eh?

JOEY. No, I’m English. No one’s really British. People who say they’re British are just embarrassed about being English.

SAM. What about the Scots and the Irish?

JOEY. They’re Scottish and Irish.

SAM. And isn’t there Wales?

JOEY. Everyone sort of forgets about Wales.

SAM. Tough to be Welsh, eh?

JOEY. I guess.

Pause.

SAM. Politics makes for bad sex.

JOEY. What?

SAM. Um – sorry, it was something my dad always used to say – I – I don’t know why I – um… So… you’re up here for, um – a little air?

JOEY. Yep.

SAM (to audience). So I’m thinking ‘a little air’, like taking a turn on the veranda, like a midnight, moonlit stroll, like Audrey Hepburn at dawn before breakfast time at Tiffany’s; like this is the moment you might tell your kids that you met and she says –

JOEY. Hepburn.

SAM. Hepburn?

JOEY. Hepburn.

SAM. How did you do that?

JOEY. I just – how old are you, Sam?

SAM. How old are you?

JOEY. Twenty-three.

SAM. No freaking way – me too!

JOEY. Really?

SAM. No, absolutely not, I’m nineteen. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I – you can check my driver’s license if you want.

(To audience.) And she only fucking does! She slides these little British, English, fingers right into my back pocket, so as I can feel the bump of her ring dig in against my butt cheek – and then BAM; I stare her right in the face, eyeball to eyeball, and that little licky breath is all over my face and my lips, all warm and moist but I don’t flinch an inch… she has this pale skin and pink cheeks like she’s been out in the snow…

(To JOEY.) Your hand is in my pocket.

JOEY. It’s warm.