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Spend some time with Brutus and Wanda, the sado-masochistic lovers in John Patrick Shanleys appallingly entertaining Dirty Story, and youll start to realize that the politics shaping their relationship arent merely sexual. Mr. Shanley, a specialist in the combat zone where love and hate blur, has expanded his focus from the intimate to the international. This broadening of perspective has led him to create one of the liveliest, boldest andagainst the oddsfunniest studies ever of a subject that even hard-core satirists tend to approach on tiptoe... Before this animated satire shifts into straightforward allegory, Mr. Shanley insists that you get to know Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization as the dysfunctional couple next door.
BEN BRANTLEY, NEW YORK TIMES
In Sailors Song, Shanley has charmingly married Eugene ONeills seaside dramas to Fred and Gingerstyle movie romances, the dance sequences a stunning and inventive fit. Moving and funny, the dialogue is a rumination on life, love and death. And as the scene shifts from the waterfront and back, so does the dialogue shift between earthy humor and lyrical interludes, which are more the stuff common to philosophers than sea men. Sailors Song is a winning fantasia.
CURTAINUP
John Patrick Shanleys uproarious insult comedy Wheres My Money? is a modern ghost story where the terror and humor are located in the neuroses of dysfunctional relationships. But Shanley knows more than just how to make a howlingly funny joke: He carefully establishes a boiling situation and teases it out, escalating the tension with Hitchcockian skill, ending each scene with a theatrical jolt.
JASON ZINOMAN, TIMEOUT
Dirty Story
This play is dedicated to Professor Terence Patrick Moran, a tremendous enemy of bullshit.
Production History
Dirty Story was originally produced by the LAByrinth Theater Company (John Ortiz and Philip Seymour Hoffman, Co-Artistic Directors; Oliver Dow, Executive Director; Robin Kramer and John Gould Rubin, Producers; Stephanie Yankwitt, Associate Producer) in New York City, opening on February 18, 2003. It was directed by John Patrick Shanley; the set design was by Michelle Malavet, the lighting design was by Jeremy Morris, the sound design was by Elizabeth Rhodes, the costume design was by Mimi ODonnell and the stage manager was Mary E. Leach. The cast was as follows:
| BRUTUS | David Deblinger |
| WANDA | Florencia Lozano |
| FRANK | Chris McGarry |
| LAWRENCE/WATSON | Michael Puzzo |
Characters
Brutus
Wanda
Frank
Lawrence/Watson
Place
New York City.
Time
The present.
Act One
Scene 1
Music: Mongo Santamarias take on Watermelon Man. A park. Two outdoor chess tables. A trash can. A little bench, center. Brutus is drinking coffee, playing a game of chess alone. Across the way, another man, an aging English patrician, Lawrence, also plays chess alone; hes listening to music on a headset. Lawrence raises a sign which reads: FICTION. He lowers it. The music segues into street sounds. Wanda enters. Shes pulling a six-foot palm tree in a luggage carrier. She approaches Lawrence.
WANDA: Mister Chiappa? Brutus Chiappa?
LAWRENCE: I dont even want to be here.
WANDA: Im sure you dont.
LAWRENCE: I just want to go home.
WANDA: Im sure you do. But are you... (Brutus Chiappa?)
LAWRENCE (Overlapping): Please! I just want to go home to my chair, my dog, and my mother!
WANDA: Youre not Brutus Chiappa, are you?
LAWRENCE: No.
BRUTUS: Are you Wanda?
WANDA: Yes?
BRUTUS: I think you want me. Im Brutus.
WANDA: Oh. Hi. Im Wanda. (To Lawrence) Sorry.
LAWRENCE: I just want to go home. And Im going to go home in a little bit.
BRUTUS: Never mind him. He has nothing to do with anything.
WANDA: Brutus?
BRUTUS: Yes.
WANDA: Oh, Im sorry. Theres no picture on your book jackets.
BRUTUS: Its not worthy of further explanation.
WANDA: Nice to meet you.
BRUTUS: You have a large plant.
WANDA: Yeah, good buy on Sixth Avenue. Its all the real estate I can afford. Am I interrupting something?
BRUTUS: Nothing to be done about it.
WANDA: I could come back.
BRUTUS: Thats ridiculous.
WANDA: I just noticed youre playing a game of chess.
BRUTUS: Yeah.
WANDA (Indicating Lawrence): He is, too.
BRUTUS: I dont know that man. We just happen to be sharing a public space.
WANDA: Is it something people do now? Play chess alone? In proximity to other people playing chess alone?
BRUTUS: I dont know what people do. I can only speak for myself.
I like to play alone.
WANDA: It seems funny. I mean two people who want to play chess so close by each other. Seems silly theyre not in the same game.
BRUTUS: Simply because two people are physically near each other doesnt mean they should be friends.
WANDA: Chess isnt about friendship, its about combat.
BRUTUS: Even conflict requires common ground. Come on, sit down.
I dont like to look up at people.
WANDA: Oh, of course. Im sorry. Thank you. (Sits) I have been deeply affected by your poetry, your essays, your books for a long time now. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.
BRUTUS: I dont mind meeting. Ill go to meetings. Im willing to meet with anybody. Have you heard different or something?
WANDA: No. I just want to acknowledge that its an act of generosity to
take the time to give a graduate student the benefit of your experience.
BRUTUS
(Rummaging in a valise): You seem a little old to be a graduate
student. I was out of graduate school and established in the world by the time I was... How old are you?
WANDA: Im still quite young.
(Brutus pulls a manuscript out of his bag, gets up with his coffee.)
BRUTUS: By the time I was twenty-six. Here. (Hands her the manuscript and heads for the trash can)
WANDA: For some of us, being a student is a lifelong occupation.
BRUTUS: I have a nephew like that. His parents are suicidal. (Throws his coffee lid in the trash)
WANDA: I didnt mean I dont work. I pay my way.
BRUTUS: You dont get a little scholarship money or something?
A little subsidy?
WANDA: Some. Its based on merit.
BRUTUS: Youre a tomboy.
WANDA: What?
BRUTUS: All right, all right. I read your... What do you call it?
A homily? (Sits on the bench)
WANDA: A novel.
(He pours his coffee into the palm tree. She reacts.)
BRUTUS: It was wretched, it was ignominious, it was a shonda.
I lament that you wrote it. It takes seventeen trees to make one ton of paper. You might think about that the next time you consider writing.
WANDA: Oh, Im sorry if it wasnt good.
BRUTUS: It wasnt good.
