Misterman

Enda Walsh

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2014
• Print ISBN: 9781848422636
• eBook ISBN: 9781780011790
• Topic: Literatura
• Subtopic: Arte dramático británico

A virtuosic study of one man's descent into religious mania in small-town Ireland.

Inishfree might seem like a quaint Irish town, but fierce evangelist Thomas Magill knows better. He knows that jovial Dwain Flynn is a miserable drunk, that Timmy O'Leary enslaves his lovely mother, and that sweet Mrs Cleary is a blasphemous flirt. It is down to Thomas, with God on his shoulder, to save this sinful place. But the townsfolk are not listening, an angel is misbehaving and a barking dog will not be silenced. Just how far will Thomas go in his quest for salvation?

Enda Walsh's Misterman was first performed by the author in a Corcadorca Theatre Company production at the Granary Theatre in Cork in April 1999, directed by Pat Kiernan.

A revised version was produced by Landmark Productions and Galway Arts Festival, and performed at the Black Box Theatre, Galway, as part of the Galway Arts Festival, in July 2011.

This edition of the revised play was published alongside the production at the National Theatre, London, in 2012, directed by the playwright, starring Cillian Murphy.

Pre-show and we’re looking at an abandoned depot / dilapidated factory. The space immediately feels inhabitable and dangerous with electrical cables everywhere. And yet dotted about it are small tiny ‘stages’, pristine in comparison to the surrounding debris. It suggests that someone is trying to live and has lived here for some time.

The lights go down and fade back up.

A thirty-three-year-old man is standing in the space facing us, out of breath and sweating. This is THOMAS. He has a small sliced pan under his arm. He stands upright and opens his hand. He’s holding a chicken’s egg. It’s a little dirty. He must have taken it from a chicken coop.

A dog can be heard barking outside the space. THOMAS looks towards it.

Suddenly Doris Day can be heard singing ‘Everybody Loves a Lover’. THOMAS turns, startled. He walks quickly towards a tape recorder and picks it up. He hits the stop button, but nothing. He unplugs it from the back but the song continues. He takes out the batteries but there’s no stopping Doris. He places it down on the ground like it was a bomb. He must try to ignore it. This is most unusual.

The song continues as he walks into the kitchen space he’s made for himself, where he has a gas stove. He breaks the egg into a little saucepan, adds some margarine and leaves it there on a low heat. This bloody song.

He walks to a small basin with water and soap. He vigorously washes his face and hands.

When he finishes this, he leaves there, and walks back and stands looking over the wayward tape recorder and Doris. He’s got an idea.

He walks quickly to the back of the space, bends down and picks up something. He walks back towards the tape recorder holding a hammer. He smashes it down on the tape recorder. The song skips back to the very start and remains intact.

THOMAS petulantly screams with frustration.

He covers his ears but can still hear it. He has some tissue in his hands. He tears it up and shoves it in his ears. It’s no good. He takes off his jumper and wraps it around his head, covering his ears. Still no good.

He smells the egg cooking and returns to it fast. He turns up the heat and vigorously scrambles it. He empties it onto a slice of bread on a plate, and places it on a table.

But still this bloody song continues. He’s got another idea. He disappears momentarily to a small room at the very back of the space. Sounds of pots and pans crashing to the floor.

When he returns out of the room, he’s taped two dirty teddy bears over his ears. Perfect.

Happy now, he walks back to the tape recorder and stands over it.

It suddenly stops. Fuck it.

He rips off his teddy-bear mufflers and walks up some stairs that lead to a crumbling platform. Up there he sits behind a table with two reel-to-reels on it.

THOMAS. Hello, everyone!

He turns on both machines and gets to work.

We hear the voice of Simple Eamon Moran.

SIMPLE EAMON MORAN. Aren’t ya talkin’ to me any more? Why’d you run away from me garage…? No need for it.

THOMAS fast-forwards it and stops it.

… and will ya be goin’ to the dance in the school hall tonight, Starsky?

THOMAS fast-forwards it and stops it. We hear the voice of Dwain Flynn.

DWAIN FLYNN (screams). Are you recordin’ this? Once more for the record? You’re not fuckin’ wanted…!

He fast-forwards the tape again and stops.

And don’t ever stand there!

THOMAS stops the tape. Stands and looks to a spot beneath the platform. He impersonates Dwain.

THOMAS. ‘And don’t ever stand there!’

He spits.

Good!

He sits and fast-forwards the tape. He stops and plays it. We hear the voice of Mrs O’Donnell.

MRS O’DONNELL. … and maybe it’s best you went home.

THOMAS. Yes!

He’s found what he’s looking for. THOMAS rewinds the tape and stops. We hear more of Mrs O’Donnell.

MRS O’DONNELL. You’ve taken things too far. Jesus, look at your face – there’s still blood – you need help, Thomas. Don’t be goin’ inside the hall. Maybe it’s best you went home, love.

THOMAS stops both machines and stands up. He pauses and looks down at them momentarily.

He places the chair in a definite position. He then takes a tape recorder in a canvas sling and puts it over his shoulder, securing it to his belt like a holster.

Carefully he places a cassette tape in the machine. He pats it gently.

Quick now and THOMAS comes back down the stairs.

He walks over to a loudspeaker on the wall and takes the microphone.

He covers his eyes and…

Blackout.

In the darkness, THOMAS is heard, his whisper amplified.

THOMAS. It all began from a Nothing. This loud crashing all began as a whisper… but a whisper that was from God, from Him, from the Lord our Master… and that whisper grew and grew and became this growling and soon a thundering and a roaring that was never heard in the Nothing before. And out of the noise came a voice, the great voice of the Lord and He said, ‘Let there be light’… and on the Nothing a light shone. And what was the first light like?

Lights slowly come up on all the small playing areas dotted about the space.

The light made the Nothing a Something which the Lord called Night and light was called Day. And He made the Earth and separated dry from wet to make the land and the sea, and He made vegetation and fruit and trees and covered the land in all colour and shone a bright yellow star to make the trees and plants grow. And then a universe of smaller stars and other planets He set turning in the speckled light. And animals of all kinds and shapes they ran about the Earth and swam in the lovely blue seas that as a child I too would swim in. And God made us, Daddy told me. Man and Woman in his likeness to keep watch on what He had made. To be watching. To be always watching. To be good.

THOMAS is fully lit now, his hands lowered from his eyes as he talks into a microphone.

But Man and Woman’s soul was not like God’s soul because it was good and evil. And evil it grew. It grew like that very first whisper but a whisper now of crying and suffering and it grew and is growing. And I’m watching… because more people fill the Earth and only some little good and some little happiness is found. Because Man has forgotten God’s words He gave us in Eden… and His son, we crucified Him, we killed Him for offering us kind redemption and just carry on and on and on and sin has become our religion, greed our communion and Evil… Evil is our God.

He looks upwards.

(Whispers up.) Everything is not good, Daddy.

A pause.

He looks up at a light-blue suit hanging from chain that stretches all the way to the ceiling.

He then looks at his watch.

Four, three, two, one. Mammy!

He turns on the reel-to-reel on the table. Mammy is heard from it.

MAMMY. A scrambled egg is awful, Thomas? You used to take them boiled. What’s the matter, my best boy in Ireland?

THOMAS. Tom...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Original Production
• Characters
• Misterman
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information