Belarus Free Theatre: Staging a Revolution

New Plays From Eastern Europe

Belarus Free Theatre

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781786820815
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: European Drama
• Index: Literature

The International Contest of Contemporary Drama (ICCD) was set up by Belarus Free Theatre to encourage new writing and to promote Belarusian cultural identity on an international stage with the participation of artists across Europe. The contest will be held underground in Belarus, hidden from the authorities, and simultaneously in London, and means that Belarusian playwrights, who remain isolated in their own country because of the state policy on internet censorship and media control, and are banned from performing can be recognized for their work internationally, and have the opportunity to show their work free from state oppression. This publication is dedicated to promoting the works of the winning playwrights. This collection contains:
Herman, Franz and Gregor by Julia Tupikina
DIPROSOPUS: A Story in Two Faces by Lyudmila Zaytseva
ONYX by Maxim Dosko
Same Thing BY OLGA PRUSAK
The Time Wardrobe or The New Adventures of D'Artagnan by Yuri Leonidovich Harin
The Women and the Sniper by Tatiana Kitsenko

THE TIME WARDROBE OR THE NEW ADVENTURES OF D’ARTAGNAN

A PLAY FOR SECONDARY SCHOOL STUDENTS.

BY YURI HARIN

Characters

LYUBA

A modern day schoolgirl.

GOGA

Lyuba’s brother.

MOTHER

Lyuba and Goga’s mother.

FATHER

Lyuba and Goga’s father.

DIMA

Lyuba’s classmate.

D’ARTAGNAN

His Majesty’s Musketeer.

CARDINAL MAZARIN.

DUCHESS OF MONTPENSIER.

1ST STRANGER.

2ND STRANGER.

Act 1

An ordinary room in a modern flat. A door CSR leads to the main rooms of the flat, another door CSL leads to the secondary rooms. There is a large wardrobe CS. LYUBA sits at a table by a computer, her arms and head resting on the table. She is sleeping.

LYUBA and GOGA’s MOTHER enters through the right door.

MOTHER: All night spent on the computer. Again! (Shakes LYUBA’s shoulders waking her up.) Come on, wake up! Wake up!

LYUBA: (Waking up with difficulty, stretching and yawning.) What kind of people are you if can’t let a person sleep!

MOTHER: Happy birthday, sleepy head! (Kisses LYUBA.)

LYUBA: Cheers. Ah, what a dream you scared off! D’you really have to wake someone up so early?

MOTHER: So early? You better look at the clock. As Lermontov wrote: ‘It’s noon already. Ismail is fading. The sun is blazing high…’

LYUBA: And a hippo struggles to lose weight, but it’s even harder to wake up… (Gets up, stretches and yawns.) Gosh, I’m really hungry! I’d better learn to eat with my left hand.

MOTHER: What for?

LYUBA: So I can stay at the computer and keep typing with my right one. (Heads for the door.) I wonder what’s for breakfast?

MOTHER: Breakfast is over, and lunch hasn’t started yet.

LYUBA: (Stopping at the door, turning to MOTHER, in surprised voice.) What d’you mean – hasn’t started yet?

MOTHER: Simple. No lunch until you clean your room.

LYUBA: Sticking to principles, are we?

MOTHER: Yes, principles. Look, what a mess your room is in. When did you clean it last? Huh? Probably the day we moved in?

LYUBA: Honestly, I don’t get it – why are you always on my case?

MOTHER: Honestly, I cannot even understand your slang!

LYUBA: Well then just don’t listen.

MOTHER: (Waving her hand at Lyuba.) Ah, what’s the point in talking to you… No matter how much you feed a wolf…

LYUBA: It still won’t give you milk or lay eggs.

MOTHER: OK. I’ll make you a deal: you clean up your room and I’ll make you something to eat.

LYUBA: Or maybe I can do it later? Like, tomorrow, deal?

MOTHER: Tomorrow! The magic word ‘tomorrow’. Tomorrow I’ll clean up, tomorrow I’ll behave well, tomorrow I’ll start a new life… And tomorrow you’ll still do it ‘tomorrow’. And on and on. Enough of your tomorrows! Either you start tidying your room right now or I’ll tell your father and he will turn off that damn internet of yours. We should take that computer away altogether, before it takes over your whole life.

LYUBA: Exactly. Especially when there is no life.

MOTHER: That’s it – it’s time to end this once and for all. Your father and I have decided…

LYUBA: (Ironically.) That’s just adorable – they decided something!

MOTHER: Yes, we decided.

LYUBA: You know, it’s better to gift a poor orphan with money, and then maybe he’ll listen to your advice.

FATHER: (Entering the room through the door on the right.) Who is a poor orphan here?

LYUBA: Who do you think?

FATHER: Well, happy birthday to the orphan then.

LYUBA: Thanks… And what about gifts?

FATHER: For starters, I have a poem to give you. Listen up!

Torn boots,

Tattered sheepskin coat,

With a cat fur collar

And bleached jeans.

Three guesses who that is?

LYUBA: That’s me, a poor orphan with no fashionable gear.

FATHER: Well, for your information – it’s a punk. Which, judging by your appearance and hairstyle, you’ve almost become.

LYUBA: Why not? I’ll take the chain from my bike, pinch a collar from the neighbour’s dog, dye my hair green…

FATHER: Just like Vrubel!

LYUBA: What’s a Vrubel?

FATHER: Hah, you are thick! He was an artist. He was the first to dye his hair green.

MOTHER: What for?

FATHER: To stand out from the crowd. And now there is a whole crowd of green-heads everywhere. And everyone thinks that he stands out from the rest. Ridiculous! If they were a bit wiser it’s what’s INSIDE their heads that makes someone stand out, not what’s ON it.

MOTHER: That’s right – if they were smart. By the way, Lyuba, at least brush your hair.

FATHER: Agreed. You look like you fell off a wagon head-first.

LYUBA: You don’t like my hairdo? It’s trendy. It’s hip.

MOTHER: You’re happy to look like anything, except a human being!

LYUBA: Human beings, you mean those who are from the family...