LADIES IN LINGERIE (3f, 4 m - character ages 35 to 55)
The actors are mysteriously dying in a small theatre in Nyack, New York just as resident playwright Sal Fatone is trying to salvage an otherwise dismal season of the Bridgeview Players. Among his problems, a stingy producer/ theatre owner, diva actresses and one pompous out of town equity actor. Who's killing all the actors? It's up to Sal to find out!
What the critics said.
"A mystery / comedy with plenty of laughs. "Noises Off" meets "Death Trap!" Joe Franklin - Bloomberg Radio.
IPEX Theatrical Artists
p: 646-355-8050
e: info@ipexartists.com
PRODUCTION HISTORY
First Avenue Playhouse NJ 2007
SAMPLE DIALOUGE:
Ladies in Lingerie was first performed at the First Avenue Playhouse in Atlantic Highlands,)
New Jersey in August, 2006.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
(In order of appearance)
Sal Fatone……………………………………………………………….Joe Simonelli
George Engels…………………………………………………………..Tim Kelsey
Paula Paterno……………………………………………………………Noelle Martinez
Detective Collins………………………………………………………..Rick Makin
Holly Stokes…………………………………………………………….Donna Jeanne
Ronnie Rosewald……………………………………………………….Mary Lawrence
Eugene Fitzrobbins……………………………………………………..Stephen Hirsekorn
Cab Driver………………………………………………………………
BEHIND THE SCENES
Executive Producer……………………………………………………..First Ave. Playhouse
Director………………………………………………………………….Joe Simonelli
Stage manager…………………………………………………………..Grace Emley
Lights/Sound/props…………………………………………………….Michelle Pello
SETTING
A small amateur theatre in New York State
ACT 1
Scene 1 A morning in early summer
Scene 2 Two weeks later
ACT 2
Scene 1 Later that night
Scene 2 A few hours later
ACT 1
Scene 1
Setting: A small amateur theatre in a small Hamlet of New York, North of Manhattan. The stage is divided 1/3 stage right as the theatre office and the 2/3rds remaining as the theatre space. A small stage (raised platform) sits against the wall stage left. Back center is a doorway leading to the basement above which hangs a sign reading ‘restrooms downstairs’ The main entrance to the theater is double doors back left. On back wall between the main entrance and the basement/restroom entrance is a picture wall where headshots of all the resident actors hang. Some folding chairs are in theatre section facing the false stage as where audience would sit. Back right (inside office) is a door leading to the prop room. There is a second door marked restroom next to it.The office portion of the set has one large desk facing the audience and one smaller desk facing the stage within a stage. The office contains all the standard accoutrements befitting a theatrical office including a file cabinet, telephones, etc.
The office portion of the stage is separated from the main portion of the stage by a single door frame that rests against back wall. Next to the door frame is a closed tri fold wall separator.
At rise: Phone rings Sal Fatone (late forties), enters from prop room. Occasional banging on pipes can be heard off stage.
SAL
(yelling from prop closet)
Where the hell is my gorilla suit?
(Enters from closet)
George, are you hear yet?
(answers phone on Main desk)
Hello, Bridgeview Players Theatre….huh, the show starts at 8 pm….no just one show…there is no next showing, this is live theatre, …yes, actors actually on stage.. I think you want the Fairview Cinema Superplex, they’re across the bridge on the mainland. Yes, that’s right, we’re the little theatre on the little Island in the middle of the little lake near the reservoir.….yes,I said live theatre..I don’t know how they remember all the lines, photographic memory. Sure, have a nice day.
(He hangs up the phone and crosses into the main theatre by opening the door)
It’s hot as hell in here and I have to wear a gorilla suit in the show.
(He goes to thermostat near the picture wall and lowers the temperature, then goes through door again and sits at the large desk and starts searching through the rolodex)
Where is it. …Garage doors, Geiger counters, German storm troopers, male and female? I’m keeping this one (he puts it in his pocket) aha, here it is Gorilla suits.
(Pulls out card and dials the phone)
Hello Sol? …Sy? Sal, from the theatre. What are you getting for gorilla suit rentals these days? What? That’s outrageous! For another fifty bucks I could rent my own Gorilla! I don’t care if you’re having a special on cowardly lion costumes, I need a gorilla suit. What/ No, a flying monkey suit is not gonna cut it. I need a gorilla suit! No, I don’t need a man eating plant that sings either. Goodbye Sy.
(He hangs up phone and begins typing on a laptop as the banging on pipes gets louder offstage. He stops typing, goes through door to theatre opens door and yells down the basement stairs)
Pete, will you keep it down, I’m trying to write up here.
(He closes the door and crosses towards office then turns around and opens basement door again)
And let me know if you see a gorilla suit lying around down there.
(he crosses back into office and resumes typing)
(to himself as he types)
Julie walks past mannequin and examines negligee. Looking around to see if anyone is watching, she…wait (he stops typing) she doesn’t walk past the mannequin she walks towards it. (continues to type) Julie walks towards mannequin as phone on counter rings.
(Phone on office desk rings and he stares at it)
Cool, life imitates art.
(he answers phone)
Hello Bridgeveiw Players…(playfully) Hey, hotstuff! Yeah, I just got back last night. L.A. was fine. Sure, I made some nice connections. One real nice one on the Santa Monica pier last Saturday night. All right, calm down, you asked didn’t you?….yes, auditions are this Tuesday night….don’t I always write a part just for you Ronnie baby? You’re not still married, are you doll?....I didn’t ask if you were happily married baby. Of course you can try out for the lead…you’re chances are beautiful baby, if it was up to me you’d have the part! I said if it was up to me, but George is the producer, he has final say on casting, you know that. Doesn’t matter that I’m the playwright, I’m also the director, light designer, set builder, part time office help and janitor and where has that gotten me? Hold on a sec babe, I have another call coming in, (he pushes button on phone) Hello, Bridgeveiw players…Hey hot stuff…that’s right, auditions are Tuesday…of course, don’t I always write a part for you Rita baby? Absolutely, you’d be perfect for the lead.
(Sal’s cell phone rings)
Hold on a sec doll, that’s my cell phone.
(he picks up cell phone)
Sal Fatone, playwright extraordinaire….Hey…sexy….right, Tuesday at seven! Do I think you’re right for the lead?! What do you think baby?...Look, I’m on two other lines, can I call you back? Later sexy (He growls at her in cellphone then hangs up and hits button on desk phone) Hey Ronnie baby, can I call you back? What?..oh..of course, I meant Rita baby can I call you back? Who’s Ronnie? Ronnie’s is my cat, I always get you two confused, yeah, you both have those Siamese eyes that I love. Yeah, I know I’m an asshole, you’re not the first to tell me…but I’m a damn lovable asshole. Later.
(He pushes button on phone)
Ronnie baby, is that you? …who was on the other line?...My cat….What are you getting so jealous for, you’re married remember. I didn’t ask if you were happily married…and stop bringing the subject up, you’re making me and every divorce lawyer in town nervous…..so what else is new besides your marital status?... No, I didn’t hear. Really, Frank Sanders? How about that? One of the best amateur actors around and he’s gone in a flash. How did he die? Accidental drowning? Fell out of a rowboat trying to reel in a big one. Seems kind of strange to me.. Everyone knew he couldn’t swim. What would possess him to go fishing by himself on a stormy summer night? Yes, (Mock sincerity) the local theatre community has lost a true acting legend in Frank Sanders. Okay hot stuff, I’ll see you at auditions.
(he hangs up phone and resumes typing as banging on pipes again gets louder)
(talks as he types) “She walks towards the mannequin as phone on counter rings.”
(Phone on desk rings again)
This is getting bizarre.
(He answers phone)
Bridgeview players. Yes, we are performing a comedy Saturday night. What’s it about? I think it’s about an hour and a half not including intermission….Oh, what’s the play about, the plot…oh, you know, the usual community theatre madcap door slammer. Limited plot, mistaken identity, infidelity, there’s a middle aged actress running around in her underwear. Yeah, it does sound like fun. But wait, you think that sounds like fun, just wait until next month when I premiere my new comedy! Is it better? You be the judge. It’s got a limited plot, mistaken identity, infidelity and three middle aged actresses running around in their underwear…Yeah, I knew you’d like it! What’s that? Shakespeare? No, he’s not in the play. Oh, are we doing any Shakespeare? Only if we run out of royalty money like every other theatre. Come to think of it, it may be sooner than you think… Directions to the theatre? Sure. Where you coming from? Jersey? What exit? Okay, you take the Garden State Parkway over the state line and get off at 287 North. Then follow signs to the Tappan Zee Bridge. No, don’t go over that bridge. Get off at exit twelve before the bridge then hang a left…(Banging on pipes gets louder) Hold on a sec..
(He yells) hey Pete, can you keep it down, I’m on the phone. (back to phone) You still there, where was I, right, exit twelve. You hang a left at the exit ramp then go about five miles and make a right at the donut shop. Now you go about another mile and you cross a small bridge over a tiny river….no not a tiny bridge over a small river, a small bridge over a tiny river. You go another mile and you make a left at the shell station next to the Chinese restaurant, yeah the food’s pretty good. Then you’ll come to another bridge that leads to an island in the middle of the lake. Hence the name, Bridge view players. What? If our parking lot is full go back across the bridge and park at the Shell station and walk back across the bridge. They don’t mind as long as you buy some gas or Chinese food.
Yes, I imagine the Chinese food probably would give you gas. Okay, see you then.
(George Engels enters through main entrance carrying mail and a squirrel trap. He is a short, older gentleman. He stops at thermostat and raises the temperature then enters the office through the door .)
SAL
Hey George, have you seen my gorilla suit?
GEORGE
Yeah, I was cold last night so I wore it to bed. What kind of way is that to greet someone when they walk in the door in the morning?
(He sets squirrel trap down)
SAL
Sorry, good morning Georgie. Only it’s almost lunchtime?
GEORGE
Sue me, I slept late.
SAL
You hear about Frank Sanders?
GEORGE
Yeah, I can’t believe it. Fell out of the rowboat out on the lake. Everyone knew he couldn’t swim.
SAL
What do you mean ‘the’ rowboat.
GEORGE
I bought a few rowboats last week. I’ve been renting them out during the day.
SAL
What for?
GEORGE
I run a seventy seat community theatre on an island. I’ve got to do something to bring some extra revenue in during the day.
SAL
You’ve got the Puppett theatre during the day. Roland Romano Marionettes.
GEORGE
Not any more. (He starts to test the squirrel cage)
SAL
Roland left?
GEORGE
That’s right, ran off with one of the lead actors in the Touring show of Romeo and Juliet that was in town two days after you left for L.A.
SAL
Who’d he run off with, Romeo or Juliet?
GEORGE
The man played with wooden puppets for a living, take a guess.
SAL
Well I guess once you get used to working with hard wood.
GEORGE
Last I heard they were setting up a small theatre in Asbury Park.
SAL
Did he leave the puppets behind? Maybe I can learn how to work them.
GEORGE
Yeah, as if you didn’t have enough on your plate. And by the way, you’re back one day and you’re doing it again.
SAL
Doing what again?
GEORGE
Sitting in my chair. That’s what. How many times do I have to tell you to sit in that chair. ( he indicates the small desk) This is my chair. That is your chair. I am the Executive director, you are the playwright. What does that say. (he points to a desk sign but Sal picks up a piece of paper next to it.)
SAL
(reading paper) “Don’t forget to pay the electric bill”
GEORGE
Not that sign. This sign. (he holds it up) Executive director! Executive Director! My desk, my sign, my chair.
SAL
Your Napoleonic complex.
(Sal gets up and sits at his own desk as George sits at his and picks up a yellow legal pad.)
GEORGE
Did you write down the messages on the pad like I asked?
SAL
Of course.
GEORGE
I didn’t know you were Egyptian?
SAL
I’m not, I’m Italian.
GEORGE
Well your hand writing looks like hieroglyphics! How can I read this?! Is it shorthand or something?
SAL
What are you talking about?
GEORGE
(pointing to pad) What’s that phone number?
SAL
Two nine three, two six seven. Two.
GEORGE
That’s a seven? Your two’s and your seven’s look the same! What’s that number?
(points at another number on pad)
SAL
Four nine five, six zero eight seven.
GEORGE
You see. On this number you crossed your seven and on the other you didn’t. why is that?
SAL
(Looks at pad) Gee your right. Look at that.
GEORGE
Yeah, look at that. Would you please try to write a little more legibly? I keep returning phone calls to wrong numbers. Yesterday I got a massage parlor by mistake. Three Asian women are coming to the play next Saturday. Add it to the reservations, will you? The name is Chan.
SAL
See how everything works out for the best.
GEORGE
Did anyone else call whom you didn’t write down?
SAL
Yeah, Ronnie Rosewald called about auditions for my next play.
GEORGE
I hope you didn’t promise her a part?
SAL
Would I do that Georgie?
GEORGE
Of course you would. You always do. You promise a part in your play to every actress in town and then, when you can’t deliver, they get pissed off at you.
SAL
They get over it.
GEORGE
They do huh? I could make a fortune selling dart boards with your picture on it to every actress in town. And probably a few other women.
SAL
I love the way you are always trying to raise money for the theatre.
GEORGE
I’m not kidding around here Sal, Ronnie Roswald couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag.
SAL
Let’s hear what the paper bag has to say first. Besides, it doesn’t matter if she can’t act. The part calls for her to play an actress who can’t act. It’s brilliant. I’ll cast a lousy actress to play a lousy actress.
GEORGE
Wait a minute. I thought it takes a good actress to play a lousy actress?
SAL
Absolutely not. By your reasoning it would take a lousy actress to play a good actress.
GEORGE
Gee, I never thought of it that way. I will never understand this business.
SAL
Then why’d you become a producer.
GEORGE
Because I married an actress and she needed some place to act.
SAL
Good answer.
GEORGE
By the way, do you have a part for her?
SAL
Sorry, not in this play.
GEORGE
Why not.
SAL
She’s too good.
GEORGE
Well I don’t know why you insist on casting Ronnie. She’s married. You don’t stand a chance with her.
SAL
What do you mean? Sixty percent of marriages now end in divorce. I’ll wait her out.
GEORGE
Would you stop trying to ‘boff’ every actress that walks through the door.
SAL
You take all the fun out of being a playwright.
GEORGE
I have to, I’m a producer. You think it’s easy dealing with actors? I’m always the bad guy while you playwrights get all the glory. Somebody has to make the tough decisions around here or the show doesn’t go on.
SAL
You better start by paying that electric bill. And while you’re at it are you ever going to build a real wall between the office and the main theatre instead of this tri-fold.? People are starting to notice
GEORGE
Real walls cost money. Besides, I put that door up didn’t I.
SAL
That door frame was left over from the last show.
GEORGE
It takes money to build walls. Money to pay the electric bill. And money to run a theatre.
SAL
What about that grant you just got?
GEORGE
I’m saving it in a slush fund.
SAL
For what?
GEORGE
Since you started working here, paternity suits and jealous husbands.
(He picks up the utility bill) Look at this bill. It’s outrageous. I had to lower the air conditioner again when I walked in.
SAL
You mean raise it. If you lower it, you make it colder.
GEORGE
You know what I mean. I’ve got a board of directors to answer to. You think this theatre runs on a lick and a promise? The current play is selling like crap and we’ve only got one weekend left! How are the bookings for Friday Night?
SAL
We’ve got six people.
GEORGE
(sarcastic) Great, I can fund my retirement now. …anybody else call?
SAL
Just a guy looking for directions for Saturday night?
GEORGE
Good. How many tickets did he want?
SAL
None. He wanted directions to the Chinese Restaurant in town.
GEORGE
So why didn’t he call the Chinese Restaurant?
SAL
You know how busy they get. Sometimes you can’t get through on the phone.
GEORGE
(to himself) Why do I ask?
SAL
Don’t worry Georgie, maybe he’ll call the Chinese restaurant next time he needs directions to the theatre.
GEORGE
How is it I haven’t killed you yet?
SAL
You haven’t rented me a leaky rowboat yet.
GEORGE
Is Pete downstairs working on the furnace?
SAL
Yeah, he was making a lot of noise so I told him to keep it down.
GEORGE
I don’t even know why I bother fixing anything with the way business is.
SAL
You need to bring in some daytime children’s theatre to supplement this place.
GEORGE
I told you the puppets are gone.
SAL
So get live actors. Here’s how it works. You cast a lot of kids in the shows. Then the parents, grand parents and cousins all show up. I can help you cast it.
GEORGE
You just want to flirt with the stage mothers.
SAL
Stop stating the obvious.
GEORGE
(Rises and starts to set up squirrel trap)
Nah, it would be too hard to get actors during the day. We’re just going to have to figure out another way to make money around here.
SAL
I’d tell you to stop paying the actors but we don’t pay them as it is.
GEORGE
With my luck they’ll form an amateur actors union.
SAL
So what’s with the trap?
GEORGE
During rehearsal one of the actresses’ said they saw a squirrel run in here last night.
SAL
And you didn’t charge him admission? You’re slipping Georgie.
GEORGE
This trap better work. Ticket sales are bad enough. All we need is a squirrel running across the stage during the middle of a performance.
SAL
Might be an improvement. People love animal acts.
GEORGE
Do you realize the gravity of the situation? I am going to have to close this theatre down if we don’t start selling some tickets! Listen, the phones aren’t even ringing.
SAL
Oh, you want the phone to ring Georgie? Why didn’t you tell me.
(He returns to the large desk and resumes typing)
“Julie walks past the mannequin as the phone on the counter rings”.
(He stares at silent phone on the desk)
GEORGE
What the hell are you doing?
SAL
Just watch the phone.
GEORGE
I knew you were on your way to insanity but I think the train finally pulled into the station.
SAL
Wait, I know what’s wrong.
(He starts retyping)
“Julie walks towards the mannequin as the phone on the counter rings”
(The phone on the desk rings)
What did I tell you!
GEORGE
Coincidence.
SAL
(answers phone) Bridge view players…..Hey, hot stuff.
GEORGE
There he goes again. How is it both your kneecaps are still intact?
SAL
Chicken for dinner tonight? Forget that, I’m taking you out to an expensive restaurant then a night of ballroom dancing. Hold on a sec babe…
GEORGE
Who’s that?
SAL
Your girlfriend. She can’t tell our voices apart. You want to take her for French or Italian tonight?
GEORGE
Chinese. And you’re gonna be waiting on us cause you’re going to need a job after I fire you. Now gimmee that phone.
SAL
Just as well, how can I work for a guy with no sense of humor.
(He hands George the phone)
GEORGE
Hey babe…. Yeah, he’s just being an idiot again. Yeah, chicken’s fine hon. See you then.
(He hangs up phone)
I wish you would stop doing that.
SAL
Why. I almost got you laid tonight.
GEORGIE
Stick to business Sal. Would you please? I’m begging you.
SAL
Does this mean I’m un-fired already?
GEORGE
Yes. Yes. Now start getting to work around here or I’m going to close this theatre down and move it to Florida.
SAL
What’s so good about Florida?
GEORGE
You’re not there.
SAL
Hey, that’s a funny line. I’ve got to write that one down.
(He picks up a pad and starts writing)
GEORGE
Start writing down a way to sell tickets.
SAL
Not to worry George. My play next month is going to sell this place out every performance.
GEORGE
“The Cosmetic Girl” is going to sell out. How can you tell?
SAL
Because I am changing the title of the play to…wait for it… ‘Ladies in Lingerie!’
GEORGE
What kind of title is that? The play is about a girl who sells cosmetics in a department store.
SAL
Georgie, Georgie. How many times have you told me that titles sell. You put up ‘Richard the Third’. You maybe sell have the house. You advertise ‘Ladies in Lingerie.’ You sell out the run!
GEORGE
I hate when you’re right. Boy, what does that say about our society?
SAL
It says you’re producing amateur theatre in the suburbs.
GEORGE
But ‘Ladies in Lingerie?’ That title is misleading. Men will show up expecting to see a strip tease act.
SAL
So we throw some middle aged actresses in lingerie. The audience will love it. And so will the actresses. Why do you think they do community theatre in the first place?
GEORGE
But it’s common pandering. What happened to your artistic integrity?
SAL
It went out the door with my last alimony check. Look George, I write plays to hopefully make money and get rich, not win a Pulitzer prize.
(Paula Paterno enters from main door)
PAULA
(calls out)
Anyone here?
GEORGE
(calls out)
In the office.
PAULA
Hi guys.
GEORGE
Hello Ms. Paterno.
SAL
(smarmy)
Hey Paula, hot stuff!
PAULA
Save it Sal, I won’t go out with you.
SAL
Too bad, there’s a nice part in my next play for you.
PAULA
(now interested)
Really? So what are you doing Friday night?
GEORGE
(to self) Unbelievable. (Adamantly to Paula) He’s working here Friday night.
SAL
Come to the show Friday night. We’ll go out after.
GEORGE
Hey Paula, would you come to see a play called “Ladies in Lingerie?”
PAULA
Sure. Why not?
GEORGE
Don’t you find the title demeaning and sexist?
PAULA
Did Sal write it?
GEORGE
Yes.
PAULA
You left out misogynistic.
GEORGE
But why would a woman come to see it?
PAULA
(To Sal) He’s so naïve.
SAL
Tell me about it.
PAULA
Not only will women come to see it, they will drag along their husbands and boyfriends.
GEORGE
I still don’t see why?
SAL
You better spell it out for him.
PAULA
Look, say your boyfriend or husband hasn’t given you a little action for a while. You bring him to this play and he sees scantily clad women prancing around on stage and what do you think he’s going to want to do when he gets you home after the show?
GEORGE
Watch soft core porn on cable?
PAULA
With my luck, yes.
GEORGE
Oh, wait a minute…you mean….
SAL
So now what do you think?
GEORGE
I think I’m bringing my girlfriend opening night.
PAULA
Unless Sal casts her in the show…..Nah, she’s too good.
GEORGE
But I’ve read the play and there is no scene that has women wearing lingerie.
SAL
Relax, will you. I’ll do a quick re-write. It’s set in a department store, I’ll add in a dream sequence.
GEORGE
Dream sequence? How do you do that?
SAL
With lighting. Bring down the white lights and bring up the blue lights. Now follow me Georgie…Julie the cosmetologist dreams of being a lingerie model. She notices the store mannequins dressed in lingerie and suddenly four or five other actresses…
GEORGE
It’s a small stage.
SAL
….two or three other actresses come out of the wings wearing lingerie. Julie goes off for a quick change and re-joins them onstage!
PAULA
(getting enthusiastic)
Yeah, I can see it now….then she gets signed to a big modeling contract, moves to Park Avenue, and gets her big acting break. Hey, you can add in a musical number.
SAL
Great idea Paula!
GEORGE
A musical number?
SAL
Sure. I’ve written musicals before. Is our piano player out of re-hab yet?
GEORGE
You’re going to re-write now? Auditions are next week.
SAL
It’s no big deal Georgie. You know I’m a quick study. You’ve seen me crank out plays in one weekend….(he takes the stage) I can see it now. Scantily clad actresses strutting down the runway…
GEORGE
What runway?
PAULA
Don’t interrupt him, he’s on a roll.
SAL
The department store manager comes out from the wings singing. (he sings in an up-beat swing tempo) They are Ladies, in Lingerie, they are struttin, they’re stuff today…
GEORGE
Okay, I’ve heard enough! And I don’t like it.
PAULA
Oh Sal, you’ve got to let me be the lead in your musical!
SAL
I’ll give you a private audition Friday night at my place after the show.
GEORGE
You’ll do nothing of the kind. She auditions next Tuesday night like everyone else. All the homosexual playwrights in this city and I wind up with a straight one. And a letch at that.
PAULA
We call them ‘man whores’ now George.
GEORGE
And now you want to turn the play into a musical? How many have you written?
SAL
Two.
GEORGE
And now you’re writing a third? I take back what I said. Maybe you are gay.
PAULA
No I don’t think so. But if he is he’s a great actor.
GEORGE
Well we know that’s not the case.
SAL
I am a great actor and I am not gay!
GEORGE
Really? How many revivals of “The Pajama game” have there been?
SAL
Let’s see, the original opened in May, 1954 at the Shubert theatre and ran for one thousand sixty three performances not counting pre-views. It was produced by Hal Prince, directed by George Abbot and choreographed by Bob Fosse. It starred Edie Foy Jr and Gwen Verdon, wait a minute not Gwen Verdon, it was Janis Paige. The first revival was in nineteen seventy three at the Lunt Fontaine and the last revival was in February two thousand and six at The American Airlines theatre. Do you want the out of town tours?
GEORGE
(to Paula) He’s gay.
PAULA
Oh yeah.
SAL
Sure, make fun both of you…but when I’m a big hit on Broadway…