Mike Mariano

mikemariano.com presents:

True Playwright Confessions

Years ago I read a very serious, short drama, which will remain nameless. The one-act depicted a struggling young couple in a weary, angry argument, exhausted by their impoverished situation.

At the end of the play, the husband leaves the apartment. Tempers have cooled, but it’s strongly implied that he will kill himself. The author ends here, but my sick imagination keeps going.

In my imagined production of the play, the play would linger on the wife. She sits alone on the couch, worried—then, unseen by her through the window, a body drops from the sky.

Whee! Goodbye implicit tragedy, hello explicit, laughable death! Deny it all you want, but the truth is: corpses are funny!

What’s even funnier? I went further, imagining the production crew required to simulate this suicide. A stagehand would perch on a ladder, holding the dummy, waiting for his cue from the stage manager.

“Body…go!”

WHUMP!

But the kicker? I cross paths with this playwright. Frequently. And every time I do, I hear the stage manager’s words and see the corpse in free fall.

My conversations so far with the author have been strictly small talk. I hope they stay that way.

mikemariano.com presents:

True Playwright Confessions

Fellow playwright/blogger Mac Rogers has returned to the subject of Harold Pinter. The last time he did so he followed it with a short play, You Look Really Hot, about two secretaries.

Mac’s play by itself is a twisted mindgame. One of the secretaries says something so brazen so matter-of-factly that it turns the other’s worldview (or at least office-view) upside down.

But in my mind, I can’t help but hear Mac’s pivotal lines spoken not by the secretary, but in the voice of Casey Kasem.

Casey Kasem Well let me ask you this: given the outfit that you’re wearing, how difficult would it be for him to get some of his fingers into your snatch?

(Pause.)

Monica I’m sorry, did you—

Casey Kasem … Specifically, with those clothes you have on, how difficult would it be for him to get two or three of his fingers into your nasty snatch?

How did I mentally cast Casey Kasem? Perhaps there’s something inviting about a reassuring radio voice dropping vulgarities? Or that he gets to count digits from two all the way up to number three? I don’t know.

So now that my confession has ruined You Look Really Hot for everyone, go see Mac’s current play, Hail Satan!