A Human Construct

 

 

In 1996, I wrote a play titled "Tale of the Scorpion”, a one-act comedy that was performed initially at the Toronto Fringe Theatre Festival. To great acclaim, I might add, to toot my own horn. It received very nice reviews and was even voted “People’s Choice Award”. I would like to say that this was because of my fantastically funny writing and great sense of theatre, (and, in fact, that’s partially true, toot toot) but it was mostly because of the ridiculously talented, funny cast that I managed to acquire to perform it.

It was a play based on the pulp novels of the 30’s, mostly in America, and the writers who created them. Writers who worked for a penny a word, for hours each day, on several stories at once. Sometimes even on four or five typewriters, set up so that once one of the stories went ‘cold’ they could move onto another, where they would continue, their fingers blistered, and finger-nails bloodied, late into the night.

In my story, one of those writers, hard up against impossible deadlines and completely exhausted, begins to fantasize about his characters and, one by one, they begin to show up in his apartment, carrying on with his story-lines as if the writer himself was a character. The president of the US for instance. When they reach a high point in their story and are at a loss as to what comes next, they simply stop, unable to continue. The writer character shrugs his shoulders, frustrated, apologizes and everybody leaves. Then he moves to another typewriter and a fresh set of characters comes in.

Some of these characters had names like Captain Tomorrow, L-7 Master of Disguise, The Black Angel and, of course, The Scorpion. These characters were, in pulp fashion, very arch, even iconic, and had to be portrayed that way. Fortunately, through my work in the comedy community in Toronto, I had access to a remarkable talent pool of fellow comedic actors.  And much to my pleasant surprise, everybody that I envisioned in any of these parts eagerly agreed to do it.  So, its little wonder that I ended up with a verifiable hit on my hands. 

A Human Construct (Cont'd)