Real and Phantom Pains: An Anthology of New Russian Drama. John Freedman

Real and Phantom Pains: An Anthology of New Russian Drama - John Freedman


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the less there are

      BLIZZARD: Love is destiny putting you to the test

      MANIAC: It’s destiny having a systems failure

      (The café. People are coming and going. Music plays against the sound of tinkling forks, plates, knives, glasses, cups and saucers. It smells of cinnamon, honey and hot apple cider.)

      BUSHY-TAIL: Are you married?

      VOLODYA: No.

      BUSHY-TAIL: Why not?

      VOLODYA: I had a girlfriend. She was a ballerina. I had really strong feelings for her. They still surface at times. Like a time bomb or something. We used to meet in corridors and dark corners, there was never anything official about it like I would have liked. She always denied it all and she begged me never to tell anyone about us. “If you tell anybody, I’ll kill you,” she used to say. That’s the kind of girl she was

      (Through the big window the six are seen leaving their office and going out onto the street. One breathes in the fresh air, another lights a cigarette and stands looking around with satisfaction. SNOWSTORM forgot something and goes back inside. Everyone waits. The girls are beautiful and flirtatious and they look towards the window of the café. Snowstorm returns with a yellow suitcase. Everyone waves their arms in different directions; they can’t come to a consensus about where to go. Big snowflakes fall on them all. Someone is cold, others are not. Someone goes back in for a hat or a scarf. Others fumble as they put on gloves or mittens, taking them off, dropping them, picking them up as they cross the street while others catch up with them. One tries to hold another’s hand, but the hand is pulled back before it can be clasped. Someone pulls up a collar or a hood; someone puts on glasses. They laugh.)

      And then this guy shows up in a white Lexus. Makes a ton of money a month, all real cool-like. A DJ or something. Talk about being outgunned. I tried to make her see sense, tell her it was just a fling, but people don’t hear anything at moments like that. So she packed up her bags and she was gone. I even wanted to marry her. But it turned out she didn’t love me.

      BUSHY-TAIL: Why not?

      VOLODYA: I don’t know. Probably because she was afraid of ruining her reputation.

      BUSHY-TAIL: What’s that supposed to mean?

      (The six enter the café, which is packed and noisy. They shake snow off their coats as they remove them. It seems they are endlessly taking things off, coats, scarves, hats, gloves, mittens, until they finally get down to their beautiful, bared shoulders, bare midriffs and thighs. They take seats, read the menu, someone walks by, someone else recognizes someone and waves, someone moves in front of someone, somebody makes room for somebody else who couldn’t find a seat, somebody scoots over, others bring a chair, while others move over to a table by the window and people exchange seats. Someone recognizes SNOWFLAKE and BLIZZARD and points a finger at them. Someone opens his mouth...)

      MANIAC: When you start looking for things in love, there’s nothing left to find

      BLIZZARD: What’s dangerous is sudden moves

      LENOCHKA: Why?

      MANIAC: Because then the search is expanded. And there’s a whole universe out there. Whatever you want to find is out there to be found.

      BLIZZARD: It all happens suddenly. You don’t have time to think. Any person with brains figures that out sooner or later

      LENOCHKA: Love dies anyway

      ORANGINA: And so fast

      LENOCHKA: But why?

      MANIAC: Because whatever it is, it’s already been done

      LENOCHKA: Who?

      MANIAC: Who? Partners. Lovers. People. A human. One, two

      BLIZZARD: It all comes down to sex

      MANIAC: Is that before you know it’s love or after?

      SNOWFLAKE: And you’ve got to have education of some kind

      SNOWSTORM: At least elementary

      BLIZZARD: Basically it’s a very difficult thing, all these physical signs

      BUSHY-TAIL (Approaches with a notepad and pen): Whiskey? Tequila? Two whiskeys and one tequila? One? One whiskey and two tequilas? Gold or silver?

      MANIAC (To SNOWFLAKE): What’re you gonna have? To drink?

      LENOCHKA: If a woman takes the time to answer, then she’s already said “yes” to everything he has in mind. And that’s all there is to it. It’s horrible. There’s nothing more horrible than that. A random affair in the making.

      BLIZZARD: That’s what destroys our youth

      MANIAC: If only

      SNOWFLAKE: Carrot juice

      ORANGINA: And orange juice

      MANIAC: I suggest a compromise

      BUSHY-TAIL: A carrot-orange cocktail?

      MANIAC: And a salad of some kind

      BUSHY-TAIL: What kind?

      MANIAC: Herbs

      LENOCHKA: And herbal tea

      BLIZZARD: Green tea

      BUSHY-TAIL: With jasmine?

      SNOWFLAKE: And orange pekoe

      BLIZZARD: I need a vitamin boost

      SNOWFLAKE: And dessert

      ORANGINA: Make that two

      SNOWSTORM: I don’t know what I want

      BUSHY-TAIL: The fish plate’s good

      SNOWSTORM: I hate fish

      BUSHY-TAIL: It’s very good

      BLIZZARD (Takes BUSHY-TAIL by the hand): If it’s not will you have dinner with me?

      BUSHY-TAIL: Try it

      SNOWSTORM: I’ll chance it

      (VOLODYA puts on his coat and scarf, all the while keeping a close eye on BUSHY-TAIL, no matter where she goes. He casts a suspicious glance at BLIZZARD, waves to BUSHY-TAIL, pointing to his watch. She nods back at him, as if sharing with him something only they know. VOLODYA goes out into the snowstorm on the street. The café is filled with music, the television is tuned to BCH, on which the TV star SNOWFLAKE is seen reporting the news but without sound.)

      You’re a lot more elegant in real life than on screen

      SNOWFLAKE: The screen adds twelve pounds

      LENOCHKA: Really? I didn’t know that

      SNOWFLAKE: Do you like my eyebrows?

      ORANGINA (Taking SNOWFLAKE’s picture): Oh, yes

      LENOCHKA: I bought some new boots

      MANIAC: I want some just like that. Do they have big sizes?

      LENOCHKA: I’ll ask if you want

      ORANGINA (Smelling SNOWFLAKE): I just love the way you smell

      SNOWFLAKE (Her cell phone rings with the melody from “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg.” She doesn’t answer it): With his love he pours molten copper over my head

      MANIAC: If you aren’t part of the solution, you’re part of the problem

      BUSHY-TAIL: Here’s your fish plate

      BLIZZARD: Why don’t you join us?

      BUSHY-TAIL: You haven’t even tried it yet

      SNOWSTORM: The smell alone is making me sick to my stomach

      BLIZZARD: I love fish

      SNOWSTORM: What’s your name?

      MANIAC: Her name’s


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