The Messiah

2018 edition

Patrick Barlow

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781848428072
• eBook ISBN: 9781788501293
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

The funniest and most magical Nativity you will ever see.

A travelling troupe of two actors and an opera singer arrive by donkey to masterfully, movingly and miraculously enact the greatest story ever told.

The absurdly talented Maurice Rose, the alarmingly unpredictable Ronald Bream RAC, and the distinguished diva Mrs Leonora Fflyte play a cast of thousands in a Christmas comedy that conjures up the sublime, the ridiculous and the truly angelic.

Patrick Barlow's The Messiah was first performed to universal acclaim by the National Theatre of Brent in 1983, and revived at the Bush Theatre, London, in 2000. This new version, with additional material by Julian Hough, Jude Kelly and John Ramm, was published alongside a major touring production in 2018, starring Hugh Dennis, John Marquez and Lesley Garrett, which was seen at venues around the country including Birmingham Repertory Theatre and The Other Palace, London.

ACT ONE

Stage – general

A circular (revolving) stage. Three tall classical columns and broken shorter columns surround it. Behind the columns, midnight-blue drapes with gold stars. By the stage-right column an elegant and plush dining-room chair.

Music: Handel – ‘Hallelujah’.

Enter MAURICE ROSE and RONALD BREAM through the midnight-blue drapes. They stand imposingly centre-stage. The music plays. And plays. RONALD looks alarmed. MAURICE signals offstage to turn it off.

Music cuts abruptly.

MAURICE. Picture – if you will – in as it were the mind’s eye – the lone figure of a –

RONALD (sotto). I haven’t got the chair.

MAURICE. What?

RONALD (sotto). I haven’t got the chair.

MAURICE (sotto). Then get the chair, Ronald.

RONALD turns towards MRS F’s chair.

That’s Mrs F’s chair! Chair, Ronald!

RONALD exits hurriedly. MAURICE looks awkwardly at the audience. A huge clattering offstage. RONALD returns, limping slightly. He carries a fold-up chair. Opens it, pinches his finger. Positions it. MAURICE continues.

– in as it were the mind’s eye – the lone figure of a man. Entirely alone in the great vastness of the desert.

RONALD stands on the chair.

Lights change.

Desert – night

MAURICE. See! How he stands! His brilliant black eyes restlessly roving the face of the universe searching into the depths of the heavens for the sign that he is looking for.

RONALD’s eyes restlessly rove.

Upon his head he wears a crown, a moon upon its left side, a sun upon its right; about his shoulders a jewel-encrusted cloak; a silken robe of aquamarine girds his loins.

RONALD mimes awkwardly.

About his wrists, bracelets in the shape of sand-snakes; a mighty jewel hangs heavy upon his index finger.

RONALD sticks out a middle finger.

Index finger!

RONALD sticks out index finger.

He is an Wise Man from the Orient. He is a thousand years old.

RONALD plays very old.

He knows the secrets of the earth, he has heard the music of the spheres and has gazed upon the etheric web of his own astral body.

RONALD awkwardly puts his hands over his crotch.

He stands now, as he has stood night after night, eyes fixed upon the stars, entirely motionless.

MAURICE stands motionless for twenty-five seconds.

RONALD waits awkwardly. His legs start to tremble. He looks panicked.

Suddenly – a light appears in the sky. A new light. A star – hitherto unseen through the history of stars. ‘It is the sign I been looking for,’ he mutters beneath his breath as he –

RONALD (mutters). It is the sign I been looking for!

MAURICE. – as he leaps upon his milk-white dromedary –

RONALD leaps on to his imaginary dromedary.

– and grasps the silken reins. The proud beast rises proudly up –

RONALD and the dromedary rise up.

– and bears him across the Syrian dunes towards the glinting golden minarets of his far distant palace.

RONALD (à la Lawrence of Arabia). Hut-hut! Hut-hut! Hut-hut!

RONALD gallops round the stage and exits. Immediately re-enters. He gallops to the chair and shoots offstage with it.

Another clattering.

Stage – general

MAURICE. Thank you. But now some introductions –

RONALD re-enters, limping.

I am Maurice Bromsgrove Rose, the Founder and Artistic Director of the Maurice Rose Players and very much the maison d’être, if you will, of the company’s artistic policies.

Hello.

And this is my associate and – Full Acting Company Ronald Bream –

Nods to RONALD.

RONALD. Yes. Thank you. I am Ronald Ricardo Bream and I am more than pleased and dishonoured to be here to be tonight acting tonight here with the Maurice Rose Players.

MAURICE (sotto). Hello.

RONALD (to him). Hello.

MAURICE. No – (Say hello to audience.) Hello.

RONALD (to audience). Hello.

MAURICE. And now it is our honour and privilege to introduce to you our special guest star here this evening. Singing some of the greatest arias from the Handel Messiah and many other Messiahs also, please welcome Mrs Leonora Fflyte.

Fanfare.

They turn to the blue drapes which swish open. A light comes up. Nothing happens.

RONALD. She’s not there, Maurice!

MAURICE. I can see that, Ronald.

MAURICE signals. The tabs close.

Mrs Leonora Fflyte.

Repeat fanfare.

The blue drapes swish open again. Still nothing happens.

RONALD. She’s not there again, Maurice!

MAURICE. Thank you, Ronald.

MAURICE signals. The tabs close.

Just go and get her, please.

RONALD. I can’t do that, Maurice. It’s like a labyrinth back there!

MAURICE (laughing with the audience). It’s only ‘backstage’, Ronald!!

RONALD (shouting off). Mrs F!!

MAURICE. Ronald!!

(To audience.) Dear oh dear! Not very ‘used to the theatre’, are you, Ronald?

(Laughing.) So – ladies and gentlemen – whilst we ‘await the appearance’ of our special guest star here this evening – Mrs Leonora Fflyte –

RONALD. Mrs F.

MAURICE. Mrs – F – let us now without further or ‘much’ ado –

MAURICE laughs knowingly. RONALD laughs too. No idea what he’s laughing at.

– begin the telling of our ancient and ne’er to be forgot tale of tales here this evening. Thank you, Ronald.

(Sotto.) Thank you, Maurice.

RONALD. You’re Maurice.

MAURICE. No. Thank you, Maurice!

RONALD. Ah yes! Thank you, ‘Maur...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Foreword
• Original Production
• Acknowledgements
• Dedication
• Characters
• The Messiah
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information