Jasper Jones

Based on the novel by Craig Silvey

Craig Silvey, Kate Mulvany

• Verlag: Currency Press
• Jahr: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781760620875
• Thema: Literature
• Thema: Drama

It's summer 1965 in a small, hot town in Western Australia. Overseas, war is raging in Vietnam, civil rights marchers are on the streets, and women's liberation is stirring, but at home in Corrigan Charlie Bucktin dreams of writing the great Australian novel.Charlie's fourteen and smart. But when sixteen-year-old, constantly in-trouble Jasper Jones appears at his window one night, Charlie's out of his depth. Jasper has stumbled upon a terrible crime in the scrub nearby, and he knows he's the first suspect. That goes with the colour of his skin. He needs every ounce of Charlie's bookish brain to help solve this awful mystery before the town turns on Jasper.Kate Mulvany's adaptation of Craig Silvey's award-winning novel is wise and beautiful. It features a cast of finely drawn teenagers and grown-ups, all searching for their own kind of truth. A coming-of-age story, Jasper Jones interweaves the lives of complex individuals all struggling to find happiness among the buried secrets of a small rural community.

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

The exact same image that started Act One.

The only sound is the cricking of summer cicadas.

From the louvred window of a sleep-out comes the glow of a kerosene lamp. Inside the room is CHARLIE Bucktin. Only this time, he isn’t reading a book.

He’s waiting.

Then …

A dark creeping figure makes its way deftly, silently toward the sleep-out.

CHARLIE does not see the figure.

A beat.

The figure looks around nervously, then raps lightly on the window.

CHARLIE turns, startled. Then looks to us.

CHARLIE: Jasper Jones has come to my window.

He hurriedly removes the slats and keeps talking as he climbs out.

Where have you been, Jasper? It’s been a whole week! I thought you were gone for good! I’ve been hiding inside for days pretending I’ve got the runs. Actually, I have got the runs. Might’ve been Mum’s turkey. My gut’s all twisted and jumpy. And every time one of those spotter planes flies over or a copper drives down the street I just need to poo. I can’t help it, but I—

He sees JASPER’s face in the moonlight. It is beaten badly.

What happened to your face?!

JASPER: Tell you later. Come on. We gotta go.

He starts to walk away hurriedly. CHARLIE follows.

CHARLIE: Where have you been?

JASPER: Around.

CHARLIE: Did you have a merry Christmas?

JASPER: Was it Christmas? Didn’t notice.

CHARLIE: They’ve been having patrols through Corrigan, Jasper. Every night. I don’t reckon it’s safe for us to be out like this.

JASPER: Most of the town is at the Sovereign, getting pissed. No patrols tonight, Charlie.

They walk on.

CHARLIE turns to us.

CHARLIE: Everything and nothing happened in the past week. Kids were heading back onto the street, trying out their new Christmas toys, but only till dusk. Parents were locking doors and looking at each other with suspicion. The Ashes were a draw—not even Dougie Walters could save it. Mum was still angry. Dad was still invisible. The city search crews had come and gone. Only locals could stand being in this town for longer than a few days. The latest round of draft letters were delivered and a few of the local teens were packing their bags to head off to Vietnam.

JASPER: Keep up, Charlie.

CHARLIE: [to us] At a meeting at the Miners’ Hall last night, Mrs Findlay, the publican’s wife, screamed at Jeffrey’s mum. Told her to go back to where she came from. Then she pulled out a big chunk of Mrs Lu’s hair. Apparently one of Mrs Findlay’s sons got drafted. Everyone rushed to her after it happened … but no-one helped Mrs Lu.

They arrive at Mad Jack’s place.

The peaches hang from the tree.

JASPER glares at the house.

JASPER: I’ll get you, you bastard.

They walk on.

CHARLIE: Are you still sure it was him, Jasper?

JASPER: Think about it, Charlie. For years he’s bin comin’ out that door and callin’ my name, whenever I’ve walked past. ‘Jasper! Jasper!’ And he’s seen Laura too. Seen me with her. But starting from that night one week ago, I haven...