The Open House (TCG Edition)

Will Eno

• Publisher: Theatre Communications Group
• Year: 2015
• Print ISBN: 9781559364980
• eBook ISBN: 9781559368155
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Drama
• Index: Literature

“Mr. Eno has established himself as one of the most vital, distinctive voices in the American theater over the past decade. Once encountered, his style is not likely to be forgotten: Wryly humorous and deeply engaged in the odd kinks and quirks of language and its fuzzy relationship to meaning, his plays are also infused with a haunted awareness of, and a sorrowful compassion for, the fundamental solitude of existence.” –New York Times

“An anarchic and deliciously clever play.” –Huffington Post

This wildly funny and subversive take on the archetypal family drama is dense with authentic feeling and pain and it ultimately evolves into something haunted and mysterious and grand, even hopeful. The Open House won a Drama Desk Award, the 2014 Obie Award for Playwriting and the 2014 Lucille Lortel Award for Outstanding Play. It was on the Top Ten Plays of 2014 lists of TIME magazine, Time Out New York and the NY Daily News.

Will Eno is the author of The Realistic Joneses and Thom Pain (based on nothing) , which was a Pulitzer Prize finalist. Other works include Middletown, The Flu Season, Tragedy: a tragedy, Intermission and Gnit. He is a Residency Five Fellow at Signature Theatre in New York. His many awards include the PEN/Laura Pels Award, the Horton Foote Prize and the first-ever Marian Seldes/Garson Kanin Fellowship by the Theater Hall of Fame.

Lights up on Mother, Father, Daughter, Son and Uncle.

Father is in a wheelchair and has a blanket over his legs. He is reading a newspaper.

MOTHER: Well, I’ll just say it again, it’s wonderful having you all here.

(Pause. A dog barks, offstage.)

FATHER: Would someone let the dog in.

SON: I’ll get her.

(Son exits through the door, closes it. Calls out something that sounds like a dog’s name. From offstage, muffled:)

Vrallen!

(He whistles and claps.)

DAUGHTER: Does anyone want anything? Coffee or anything?

MOTHER: I should be offering you a cup of coffee.

DAUGHTER (Brief pause): So, is there some?

SON (From offstage, muffled): Hey girl!

DAUGHTER: Is there any already made?

MOTHER: Your father and I stopped drinking it. There might be some tea, though.

DAUGHTER: That’s all right. Do you have any herbal tea?

MOTHER: I can take a look.

(Son jiggles the door handle, from outside, knocks quietly a couple times. This is a household where the door is always locked. Uncle opens the door for Son. He reenters.)

FATHER (Looking at Son): Sorry—all I see is a human being.

SON: She’s gone. The dog’s gone.

DAUGHTER: She was just there.

FATHER: Did you close the door?

SON: Yeah.

MOTHER: Is she under the porch?

FATHER: I’m supposed to be resting.

SON: No, I looked under there.

FATHER: I’m not supposed to get upset.

DAUGHTER (To Father): We can find the dog without you getting upset.

FATHER (Getting upset): And how is that?

MOTHER: Well, we’re just going to have to—

FATHER (Interrupting): Just going to have to, what? Oh, I’d love to hear how that ends.

MOTHER: We’ll find the dog. It’s not the end of the world.

FATHER: Who said anything about the . . . my God. Doesn’t anyone in this family . . . And so now I guess she just upped and magically . . . I can’t breathe. God . . . Can somebody please— (Daughter moves to him)

DAUGHTER: Are you all right?

FATHER (Regains his composure, returns to his newspaper): I’m okay. If anyone cares.

DAUGHTER: I came right to your side.

MOTHER: I didn’t think you wanted anyone to embarrass you.

DAUGHTER: I asked right away if you were all right.

FATHER: Yes, we all heard you say that. Let’s move on. (To Son) Now, what were you going on about?

SON (Normally): I just said, “She’s gone.”

MOTHER: Okay but you don’t have to get angry.

SON: Why do you think I’m— I went out there and looked and then I came back in.

FATHER: I forgive you, Son.

SON: For what?

FATHER: Let me get back to this, okay? (Disappears behind the newspaper)

MOTHER: She seemed fine the other day.

FATHER (From behind the newspaper): She’s a very smart dog.

MOTHER: We could probably start without her. Listen to me: “start without her.” Like she’s a stenographer or something.

FATHER: Start what?

MOTHER: But she’s family, you know? She should be here. (To Father) I didn’t mean to say “start.”

UNCLE (Brief general pause): She’ll come back.

FATHER: Well, hello there. What’s the matter—cat let go of your tongue? (Brief pause) What’s the matter—cat got your tongue?

UNCLE: I was, no, I was trying to say something positive.

FATHER: Just try to keep your tongue away from the cat, okay?

UNCLE: Okay. All you had to do was ask.

MOTHER: We don’t have a cat. (Very brief pause) Although, there was a time this whole place was a zoo. Remember? You all brought home every little wounded thing and asked if we could keep it. (To Daughter) You were so cute with that rabbit that got hit by the car. You carried it around the house and said, “It’s hurt, just like me.” It was like an animal hospital around here.

DAUGHTER: I wasn’t trying to be cute.

MOTHER: No, I know.

FATHER: A zoo or an animal hospital? Because you said both.

UNCLE: I remember thinking all those animals might contribute to a, or, just, I thought it would give the kids a good sense of animals.

FATHER: How many times do I have to ask you to never think about this family?

UNCLE (Very brief pause): This is actually the first I’m hearing of it.

FATHER (Sounding sincere): Oh, sorry—I thought I’d asked you about that.

MOTHER: She turned up in a snowstorm. A little puppy on the doorstep in the snow.

DAUGHTER (To Father): Do you remember that?

FATHER: One of the happiest days of my life. (To Son) What are you looking at?

UNCLE: Lot of good memories bundled up in that animal. S...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Production History
• Characters
• The Open House
• Production Notes From the Playwright
• About the Author