Sunday, February 01, 2009

Going to See Revolutionary Road During the Superbowl: A Play in Three Acts

Prologue: An empty movie theatre. Four 50-something women enter the theatre as the lights dim for the feature presentation. Three of the women take their seats; the fourth women is overheard announcing to her friends that "she prefers to stand during the beginning of a movie."

Several previews are played, along with commercials, announcements urging the audience to shut off all electronic devices, etc. Eventually, the movie begins. The fourth women continues standing through the first 10 minutes of it.


Act One

[The scene is a mid-1950's upper-middle class suburb in Connecticut.]

Leonardo DiCaprio: My name is Frank Wheeler. I am named thusly because I speak in a frank fashion and, like the wheel on a car, I roll along day after day without a thought as to where I am going.

Kate Winslet: My name is April Wheeler. Like the month after which I am named, I represent growth and renewal. It would be a shame if my blossoming were to be cut short before my petals had a chance to bloom.

Leonardo DiCaprio: Although I am newly-married with a family, living in a pristine upper-middle class home and working my way up the corporate ladder, I feel my life is stifled and my dreams unrealized.

Kate Winslet: Let's give in to your long-time aspirations and move our family to Paris. We will buck the patriarchal socio-economic system of the mid-50's by making you the house husband while I, the woman, trot off to work each morning.

Leonardo DiCaprio: This drastic new lifestyle will truly put us on...a revolutionary road.

Act Two

Kathy Bates: I am Helen Givings. I am thus named because I am very giving. Although I am merely the realtor who sold Frank and April their idyllic mid-50's dream house many years ago, I will be forcing my way into the story quite often, usually at a point when our newlyweds are in emotional disarray, which occurs about every 4 minutes.

[To Frank and April] I would like to make a bizarre demand and insist upon bringing along my emotionally disabled son John Givings to your next dinner party. Although he was just released from a mental hospital and is given to frequent outbursts of screaming and derisive comments, I can't possibly see what could go wrong with having him attend a fancy-dress dinner in your home.

[We now see a dinner party at Frank and April's pristine pastel-colored dining room.]

John Givings: [To Frank and April] Because I am a social retard and therefore not hindered by the same social constraints as you, I am uniquely qualified to give voice to the churning discord of your counterfeit relationship. By definition, I am insane, but by the standards of your violent and unsettling marriage, I might actually be the most sensible character in the entire movie because I dare to speak the truth which you conveniently sweep under the carpet of your idyllic mid-50's upper-middle class home.

[Skip ahead 90 minutes.]

Leonardo DiCarpio: April's blossoming has been cut short before her petals had a chance to bloom!

Act Three

[Disco:Very is seen on the theatre floor, vomiting.]

THE END

[Curtain]

2 comments:

Rhumba Mary said...

You know, I had to step over you when I was leaving the theater which I have to tell you I really resented because you kept making all sorts of noises like a child with no attention span and then to vomit like you did, well, I thought to myself "If this little self absorbed cretin could at least produce emesis in reaction to this harsh and exacting film, well, there's at least something human about him." But for the most part I just thought "feh" and kept going.

Disco:Very said...

You are correct that this film is harsh and exacting, but certainly not in a good way. By the way, if you continue standing like that at the beginning of each movie you see, your knees will lock into place by the 2nd act. Sit down already, will you?