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The Human Body (NHB Modern Plays)

E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
96 Seiten
Englisch
Nick Hern Bookserschienen am07.03.2024
1948, Shropshire: the winter is freezing, austerity is biting and Iris Elcock, GP, socialist and Labour Party councillor, is working tirelessly to implement Nye Bevan's National Health Service Act and its revolutionary promise of free healthcare for all. At home she is a mother, and wife to a fellow GP, an ex-Navy man scarred by the war. But a chance meeting with George Blythe, a local boy who has made it to Hollywood, turns her quiet, certain world upside down. A story of political and private passions, Lucy Kirkwood's play The Human Body was first performed at the Donmar Warehouse, London, in 2024, directed by Michael Longhurst and Ann Yee, and starring Keeley Hawes and Jack Davenport. 'Kirkwood is the most rewarding dramatist of her generation' - Independent 'Kirkwood's script crackles with unspoken desires, disappointments, yearning and some fantastic humour... deftly weaves bigger politics with the politics of a marriage and affair' - Guardian 'Delicate and poignant... has its author's characteristic intelligence and wit, the dialogue crammed with texture and vivacity' - The Stage

Lucy Kirkwood is a British playwright and screenwriter whose plays include: The Human Body (Donmar Warehouse, London, 2024); Rapture (promoted as That Is Not Who I Am, Royal Court Theatre, London, 2022); The Welkin (National Theatre, London 2020); Mosquitoes (National Theatre, 2017); The Children (Royal Court Theatre, 2016); Chimerica (Almeida Theatre and West End, 2013; winner of the 2014 Olivier Award for Best New Play, the 2013 Evening Standard Best Play Award, the 2014 Critics' Circle Best New Play Award, and the Susan Smith Blackburn Award); NSFW (Royal Court, 2012); small hours (co-written with Ed Hime; Hampstead Theatre, 2011); Beauty and the Beast (with Katie Mitchell; National Theatre, 2010); Bloody Wimmin, as part of Women, Power and Politics (Tricycle Theatre, 2010); it felt empty when the heart went at first but it is alright now (Clean Break and Arcola Theatre, 2009; winner of the 2012 John?Whiting Award); Hedda (Gate Theatre, London, 2008); and Tinderbox (Bush Theatre, 2008). She won the inaugural Berwin Lee UK Playwrights Award in 2013.mehr
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Produkt

Klappentext1948, Shropshire: the winter is freezing, austerity is biting and Iris Elcock, GP, socialist and Labour Party councillor, is working tirelessly to implement Nye Bevan's National Health Service Act and its revolutionary promise of free healthcare for all. At home she is a mother, and wife to a fellow GP, an ex-Navy man scarred by the war. But a chance meeting with George Blythe, a local boy who has made it to Hollywood, turns her quiet, certain world upside down. A story of political and private passions, Lucy Kirkwood's play The Human Body was first performed at the Donmar Warehouse, London, in 2024, directed by Michael Longhurst and Ann Yee, and starring Keeley Hawes and Jack Davenport. 'Kirkwood is the most rewarding dramatist of her generation' - Independent 'Kirkwood's script crackles with unspoken desires, disappointments, yearning and some fantastic humour... deftly weaves bigger politics with the politics of a marriage and affair' - Guardian 'Delicate and poignant... has its author's characteristic intelligence and wit, the dialogue crammed with texture and vivacity' - The Stage

Lucy Kirkwood is a British playwright and screenwriter whose plays include: The Human Body (Donmar Warehouse, London, 2024); Rapture (promoted as That Is Not Who I Am, Royal Court Theatre, London, 2022); The Welkin (National Theatre, London 2020); Mosquitoes (National Theatre, 2017); The Children (Royal Court Theatre, 2016); Chimerica (Almeida Theatre and West End, 2013; winner of the 2014 Olivier Award for Best New Play, the 2013 Evening Standard Best Play Award, the 2014 Critics' Circle Best New Play Award, and the Susan Smith Blackburn Award); NSFW (Royal Court, 2012); small hours (co-written with Ed Hime; Hampstead Theatre, 2011); Beauty and the Beast (with Katie Mitchell; National Theatre, 2010); Bloody Wimmin, as part of Women, Power and Politics (Tricycle Theatre, 2010); it felt empty when the heart went at first but it is alright now (Clean Break and Arcola Theatre, 2009; winner of the 2012 John?Whiting Award); Hedda (Gate Theatre, London, 2008); and Tinderbox (Bush Theatre, 2008). She won the inaugural Berwin Lee UK Playwrights Award in 2013.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9781788507769
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Erscheinungsjahr2024
Erscheinungsdatum07.03.2024
Seiten96 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse1994 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.14066996
Rubriken
Genre9201

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe


ACT ONE

One

January 1948. The House of Commons ladies´ lavatory. As IRIS enters, HELEN is wearing a loud zebra-pattern coat and going through papers with GLADYS, her secretary.

IRIS (the coat). Where on earth did you ï¬nd that?

HELEN. Dickins and Jones. It´s marvellous, isn´t it? How did it go?

IRIS. I sounded a bloody fool, should never have let you talk me into it.

HELEN. Do you want to become an MP or not?

IRIS. Yes of course. / But -

HELEN. Well you must do these things if you want to reach the women´s vote -

IRIS. Helen, I´ve written ï¬ve articles in the past month alone to appeal to the women´s vote, / don´t -

Interrupting, HELEN turns to GLADYS.

HELEN. Gladys, do you read the Workers´ Weekly? Tribune? The New Statesman?

GLADYS. No, ma´am, I read Good Housekeeping, sign here please.

HELEN looks at IRIS - See? - and signs the papers GLADYS proffers.

IRIS. Are you on the ten o´clock? I thought we might go over the research on dentistry -

HELEN. No, I´m in the London flat tonight. Here, powder your nose before you go.

She hands IRIS a compact. Gives GLADYS a look. GLADYS understands, retreats.

IRIS. I - all right...

IRIS checks her face, powders her nose.

HELEN. You shouldn´t be so self-conscious. You´re very articulate, you know, if only you could stop being so clenched.

IRIS. Clenched?

HELEN. Yes. It makes it seem as if you´re trying to give us medicine we don´t want. When actually, Socialism is inevitable.

IRIS laughs, returns the compact to HELEN, who checks her own face.

The country voted for it didn´t they? It was all there in the manifesto, Labour is a Socialist party, and proud of it.´

IRIS. That was three years ago. The country isn´t drunk on victory any more, it´s poor and bored and tired and one day the window for change - real change I mean - will close. It´s already closing. Very soon it will be shut, and we shan´t be able to get it open again.

HELEN. What an intoxicating ray of sunshine you are. While we´re on our own. Don´t you think you´d better speak to Julian?

IRIS. What do you mean?

HELEN. You know what I mean.

IRIS laughs at her solemn face.

IRIS. Helen, I honestly do not have the foggiest idea.

And now HELEN is on the back foot.

HELEN. Iris, he´s been speaking out against the Health Service.

Pause. IRIS stares at HELEN, trying to conceal her horror.

My God. You really didn´t know, did you? Iris -

IRIS. I think. No, I. There must be a mistake, Julian and I are very much... he feels / as strongly as I do that -

HELEN. He´s put himself forward to represent the No´s at the BMA meeting.

A long pause, IRIS reels. HELEN takes out a letter. Hands it to IRIS.

This came across my desk. He´s sent it to at least a hundred consultants and GPs in the west of England.

IRIS (reading, sotto). No promises the minister may make in the press are worth a tinker´s cuss.´

HELEN. Yes, it´s rather fruity. Obviously something like this... looks rather bad for us. For you. If the press were to -

IRIS. No, of course. I´ll speak to him.

IRIS battles her rage and nausea. HELEN starts combing her hair.

HELEN. War´s made a lot of people change their minds on things. Don´t take it too badly. It isn´t personal.

IRIS. No, of course.

HELEN tuts, tosses her comb down, the teeth have snapped.

HELEN. Another one broken. I do think we could do better on combs, that´s my third this month. Come on.

She propels a shell-shocked IRIS out into the foyer.

I´ll telephone you in the morning, will you be at home?

IRIS. No, I have my clinic.

HELEN. All right, I´ll try you there.

GRAHAM HAWES MP (sixties) is waiting with a newspaper, HELEN waves to him. GLADYS comes forward with HELEN´s briefcase. She takes it, kisses IRIS and crosses to meet GRAHAM. They smile at each other, as they exit together.

GLADYS leans into IRIS, whispers:

GLADYS. He buys her clothes for her, you know.

IRIS gives her a look, won´t have Helen gossiped about.

IRIS. Well we know who to blame then, don´t we?

Two

The refreshment room at Paddington Station. IRIS picks up the public telephone, waits for the operator, as, in the background, an OFFICE GIRL approaches a man at a table. He is GEORGE BLYTHE (fifty-three). The OFFICE GIRL says a few shy words to him. He looks up, smiles, signs the paper she holds out. She rushes off, giddy.

IRIS. Bridgnorth six-two-seven-nine.

GEORGE goes back to his newspaper. IRIS does not notice, as her call is connected.

Hello, Julian? It´s me.

Split stage to JULIAN ELCOCK, at home in the Elcocks´ house. JULIAN (fifty-two) has a badly mangled foot and walks with a stick. There is also a metal plate in his head.

JULIAN. Hi, darling. Go all right? By the way, Shirley rang about the Whitsun holiday. Filey´s out but Blackpool might work.

IRIS. Lovely - darling, Helen told me something extraordinary, she said you´d gone over to the No´s.

Pause.

She showed me a letter you´ve been sending out, do you...?

Pause.

JULIAN. Yes, I´ve been meaning to speak to you about that.

IRIS. Meaning to - when?

JULIAN. This line´s awful, where are you?

Irritated, IRIS yanks at the phone cord. Behind her, GEORGE is leaving the refreshment room. He says something to the OFFICE GIRL on the way out and she screams with laughter.

IRIS. Only this is the ï¬rst I´ve heard of it, and the plebiscite is weeks away, so when exactly where you planning on telling me?

JULIAN. Well you see, this is it, I knew / you´d react hysterically -

IRIS. You do understand what this looks like for me? Sorry, hysterically´? I´ve been working on the Health bill for three years -

JULIAN. Well, I was a doctor for years before I even met you, / Iris, so -

IRIS. Yes, and what does that / have to -

JULIAN. It means the last time I checked, being married to you didn´t forbid me from having my own opinions.

A whistle, offstage.

IRIS. My train´s leaving. I´ll see you at home.

JULIAN. Iris -

IRIS hangs up, marches to the counter.

IRIS. Whiskey, please.

WAITRESS. We´ve only brandy.

IRIS. That´s ï¬ne.

The WAITRESS pours it, IRIS slides some coins to her, and drinks it off in one. A holler offstage, IRIS runs - in her haste she stumbles, turns her ankle, cries out.

WAITRESS. Are you all right, miss? Here, sit down -

IRIS. Thank you, I´m all right. I´m all right. I´m quite all right.

Offstage, the whistle blows again. IRIS limps out painfully.

Three

Train compartment. Night. Bitter cold. IRIS hobbles in, in pain. GEORGE is the only other occupant, head tipped back, eyes closed. A Greek newspaper on his lap. IRIS sits as far away as possible from him.

She eases off her shoe, rubs her ankle. Stretches her leg out and rests her foot on the seat opposite. Examines her tender ankle with a grimace.

She leans back and takes in GEORGE, asleep. He has a face anyone would want to gaze at, and this is what IRIS does. He is beautifully dressed. His whole being is an elegant cape over a great clumsy sadness.

He suddenly opens his eyes. IRIS is embarrassed to be caught staring, she looks away, coughs. She retracts her leg, embarrassed, eases her shoe on.

GEORGE. Excuse me, do you know if this is a stopping service?

He has an absolutely beautiful voice. Like yards of blue velvet. An Englishman who has grown more English in exile.

IRIS. Um, yes I believe it is.

GEORGE. If I freeze to death, throw me off at Bridgnorth, won´t you?

IRIS. Excuse me?

GEORGE. If I freeze to death, throw me off at Bridgnorth.

IRIS. Oh. Yes, that´s my stop too.

GEORGE. Even better. You can drag me home to Mother.

IRIS laughs, uncertain. He stares at her injured leg.

You´ve a ladder in your stocking.
...mehr

Autor

Lucy Kirkwood is a British playwright and screenwriter whose plays include: The Human Body (Donmar Warehouse, London, 2024); Rapture (promoted as That Is Not Who I Am, Royal Court Theatre, London, 2022); The Welkin (National Theatre, London 2020); Mosquitoes (National Theatre, 2017); The Children (Royal Court Theatre, 2016); Chimerica (Almeida Theatre and West End, 2013; winner of the 2014 Olivier Award for Best New Play, the 2013 Evening Standard Best Play Award, the 2014 Critics' Circle Best New Play Award, and the Susan Smith Blackburn Award); NSFW (Royal Court, 2012); small hours (co-written with Ed Hime; Hampstead Theatre, 2011); Beauty and the Beast (with Katie Mitchell; National Theatre, 2010); Bloody Wimmin, as part of Women, Power and Politics (Tricycle Theatre, 2010); it felt empty when the heart went at first but it is alright now (Clean Break and Arcola Theatre, 2009; winner of the 2012 John¿Whiting Award); Hedda (Gate Theatre, London, 2008); and Tinderbox (Bush Theatre, 2008).She won the inaugural Berwin Lee UK Playwrights Award in 2013.