Remote E-Book

Stef Smith

• Herausgeber: Nick Hern Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: NHB Modern Plays
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 65

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

Antler steps out of her front door and throws her phone to the ground. She stamps on it. Then she climbs the tallest tree in the park. She doesn't want to be found, not by anyone. Over the course of one autumnal evening, seven teenagers' lives intertwine as they make their way through the park. And everything that seemed normal becomes extraordinary. A play about protest, power and protecting yourself, Stef Smith's Remote was commissioned as part of the 2015 National Theatre Connections Festival and proved enormously popular with youth theatres and college companies across the UK, returning for the 2023 Connections Festival.

Leseprobe

Stef Smith

REMOTE

NICK HERN BOOKS

London

www.nickhernbooks.co.uk

Contents

Title Page

National Theatre Connections

Thanks

Dedication

Characters

Remote

About the Author

Copyright and Performing Rights Information

Remote was commissioned as part of the 2015 National Theatre Connections Festival and premiered by youth theatres across the UK, including a performance at the National Theatre in July 2015.

Each year the National Theatre asks ten writers to create new plays to be performed by young theatre companies all over the country. From Scotland to Cornwall and Northern Ireland to Norfolk, Connections celebrates great new writing for the stage – and the energy, commitment and talent of young theatre-makers.

www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/connections

Thanks

I would like to thank Anthony Banks, Oliver Emanuel, Johnny McKnight, Gilly Roche, Ros & Simon, Davina Shah and all who make NT Connections possible.

With special thanks to Mari Binnie who ran the youth-theatre group I attended as a teenager. Youth theatre emboldened me and made me passionate about theatre, I’m forever thankful for her support and inspiration in those early years.

S.S.

For my parents

Characters

ANTLER, female

OIL, male

CRYSTAL, female

BLISTER, male

SKIN, female

FINN, female

DESK, either gender – he has currently been written as a male but if this character is played by a female, the production simply changes the gendered pronouns in the [square brackets] to female.

DASHED LINES (–), any gender/number of performers (minimum of two)

BLISTER’S CREW, they have no lines but should be represented on stage when Blister is in a scene – until they disband halfway through the play. If it is a small cast the representation of this group does not need to be naturalistic but it should give a similar sensation of an ominous group of young people.

The characters can be any age. The only suggestion is that Blister appears to be the oldest and Desk the youngest.

Notes for Production

The smallest number of performers this play could be performed with is nine. There is, however, no maximum number due to the use of a chorus.

The lines denoted with a dash (–) can be said by any performer.

Lines may also be altered, where appropriate, to suit the dialect of the performers. References to high school can also be changed to college, if needed.

This play can be set in any park. The staging can be simple or complex and is open to the interpretation of the group. There are no scenes, but rather this play is one long moment, one long breath, that flicks between the different characters.

Ultimately, the writer wishes for the group to imagine their own world within Remote.

–       

Lock

–Open–Handle–Door–Push–Step. One foot–Then the other–Onto the front step–She closes the door behind her–Fresh air hits her face–Smell of clouds and cold. All that autumn stuff–She pulls out her phone–Places it on the second step–Lifts up her foot and slams it down–Again–And again–And again–Screen. Buttons. Circuit board. Everywhere.–That little piece of plastic–Broken into smaller pieces of plastic–And her chest is suddenly free and full–And she stands for a momentANTLERGood riddance.–Good riddance she says.–And it’s one foot in front of the other–It sounds like an easy task–And most of the time it is–And it’s steps–No, not steps, strong strides–Strong strides forward, always facing forward–She pulls her hood up over her head–But it isn’t that cold–It’s more for like, an atmosphere–A mood–Determined.–Yeah, a mood best described as determined.ANTLERI’ve got somewhere I need to be. Simple as.–The park, mostly it’s the park she needs to be at–It’s only a few minutes’ walk from her home–Her parents’ home.–She used to come here often–When she was a kid–Swings and roundabouts. All that kid stuff.–Tarmac and iron–Faded painted–Mums with prams–Eight-year-olds with adventure in their blood–The rest of the world ahead of them–Tarmac and ironANTLERHuh. It looks the same as it ever did.–She steps into the park–Walking with purpose–Like she is listening to loud headphones–But she isn’t–Nothing is blocking those ears–Just those heavy thoughts sitting in between them–Swirling around her mind like a Magic Eight Ball–And in the middle of this park is a tree.–A big old rustic-looking one–Been there since always–Always been there–Got names carved into it–Chewing gum stuck to it–Holds the snow in the winter–Back when it used to snow–And she stops at the bottom. Looking up.–It’s been a long time since she looked at it–And for a moment she recognisesANTLERNature is pretty cool.–And with that thought, she takes one last look behind her–The park at eye level–And then she reaches for the nearest branch–Grabs it and begins her climb–Upwards, onwards.–Branch after branch–Heaving herself up it.–One foot then the otherANTLERThose gymnastic classes when I was six, are really paying off.–She climbs amongst the autumn leaves–Flakes of orange and brown–Falling like snowflakes–Like back when it used to snow–She finds a branch, solid and strong–She has never been good with heights–But then she has never been bad with them either.–Breathe hard–Breathe deep–Taller now.–The height of a second-floor window maybe–Maybe even third–No other trees about here, not any more.–This tree stands alone.–Surrounded by a world of cars and street lamps–Of tall buildings and people talking–Of coasts and cliffs–Surrounded by this country–A piece of land–And after all a piece of land is only a piece of land–And she shoutsANTLERMy name is Antler. And I will not be part of the world. Not this world. Not any more.–And so we cut to the other side of the park–A boy called Oil takes his phone out of his pocket–Three bars of reception–No new calls–He shuffles from foot to foot–Got new trainers for his birthday–They look pretty good but don’t fit quite right–Clicks contacts–Clicks callOILPick up.–His phone does a double ring–Goes to voicemail.OILHey, Antler, it’s Oil. Where you at? I got your weird text. What’s up with you? Where in the park are you? Why the park? Anyway. I’m out. Call me back.–Somewhere not far from here a girl knocks on her sister’s doorCRYSTALAntler– you in? I’m coming in.–But there is no one there. Not a note. Not a sign. Not a nothing.–Just a well-made bed and a weirdly tidy room–She pulls out her phone.–Compose new messageCRYSTALYo. Sis, exclamation mark. Mum says you’re to get washing-up liquid from the shop. You out, question mark. Crystal, kiss. Face with its tongue sticking out.–Checks her phone again. Nothing.–She grabs her jacket–Opens the front door–CrunchCRYSTALWhat was that?–Broken pieces of plastic–Smashed screen–Tiny pieces of circuit boardCRYSTALAntler’s phone.–