I am currently finishing off the scripts that I’ve written for my two primary theatre classes to perform.
I thought I’d share the stories with you because I am running low on blogging fodder at the moment, so instead of bitching about having to write reports and attending
conseils de classe that are sucking my will to live, this is what I’ve got for you today.
For the littlest ones it’s a light-hearted little tale called the
Pirates of the Côte D’Azur.
It’s about a mean, selfish Captain and his spoilt, nasty daughter who treat the other pirates on this ship badly.
The start of the play is basically an extended version of the much beloved Theatre Game
“Captain’s Coming”. The kids love it and watching them run from “Port” to “Starboard” and “scrubbing the deck” is endlessly entertaining. At least I hope so.
One day the pirates spot some treasure, which they manage to haul up onto their ship and they celebrate their good fortune and make suggestions on what they could spend it on (they don’t seem to understand that pirates probably
wouldn’t want an iPhone4, or a Wii – you can’t get decent method actors anymore).
However, unbeknownst to our pirate friends, lurking below the waters is a group of beautiful mermaids! And by mermaids, I actually mean “sirens” because the girls all demanded costumes that included tails if they were 'mermaids', so I explained that they were creatures
like mermaids, but without tails, who were magical. Yep. That works.
Anyway, the treasure belongs to the mermaids and they are
pissed that the stinky pirates have stolen their treasure, so they sneak onto the boat and do their magical mermaid/siren dance (which bears a lot of resemblance to
Single Ladies truth be told. I'm working with a limited repertoire) and all the pirates fall instantly asleep, allowing the crafty mermaids to retrieve their treasure.
The next day, when the mean, old Captain discovers that the treasure is missing, he is furious. He thinks one of the pirates is hiding it and makes them run all over the ship trying to find it, until the poor pirates are completely exhausted. (This is usually their favourite bit because they all get to fall down groaning. F.Y.I 5 year old boys love to fall down. So much. I could give them a whole lesson of just falling down and they’d by happy as pigs in poo) The mermaids have been watching all along, and they feel bad because the captain is
so darn mean, so they use their magic again to create a big storm which knocks the Captain – and amazingly
only the Captain – overboard. The pirates are happy and the mermaids decide to share the treasure with them. And they all live happily ever after.
One of my pirates asked if they could marry the mermaids. I said that they
could, but that the mermaids have to live under the sea, despite what Disney movies tell you, so it might not work. I thought he was going to get all star-crossed lovers on me, but he said that it was ok – he only wanted to marry her for her share of the treasure.
Classy.
And CURTAIN!
Arr me hearties, yo ho.
The second play, for my slightly older class is
The Haunted House. Yeah - heaps original title, I know.
The story is pretty standard fare: a family’s car breaks down; they’re stuck with no phone reception so they search for help. They find a large, spooky looking mansion
“Count Dracula’s House” and make their way inside. Once inside they run into various groups.
First up it’s my “Spooky Scary Skeletons” who give the family quite a fright, but then treat them to a poem and various jokes:
Q: Who won the skeleton beauty contest?
A:
No body
Q: What do skeletons say before they begin dining?
A:
Bone appétit!
And my personal favourite:
Q: Who was the most famous French skeleton?
A: Napoleon
bone-apart
They don’t understand the jokes, but I’ve assured them they’re funny and that their parents will laugh.
C’mon – Napoleon
Bone-apart?? – that shit’s funny.
After this it’s a bunch of deranged, starving zombies groaning “brains” who close in on our intrepid family – only to “tag” the mother and declare her “it” for the game of “brains tag” they’re playing. The family politely decline.
Onwards they go, and in the next room they come upon a gaggle of witches
“Double, double boil and troubling” their way through a foul recipe – which the family think must be an evil spell, but instead is just what’s for dinner. They are offered some “soup” but they claim fullness, and leave the witches, commenting that they would never make it on Top Chef.
Finally they greet the master of the house, Count Dracula himself, who tells them off for wandering around his house uninvited, then helps them call for someone to come pick up their car. I wanted to have him start counting things out, when the family try to give him the phone number à la Count Von Count from
Sesame Street, but decided against it. I also wanted to give him pet bats named Grisha, Misha, Sasha, and Tatiana but I was definitely the only one who found this funny. I am trying to coach my boy playing Dracula in speaking with a Russian accent, but given that my Russian is limited to Vodka brands and lines from the film
“Anastasia” we aren’t getting that far. This play will (hopefully) end with all my characters joining in for a
Thriller dance.
So that’s where we’re at.
Thoughts?
I’ll try to remember to take some photos when we actually perform (
Pirates is in 4 weeks! Cripes!)
It’s
such hard work getting 20 kids to focus on one scene – and forget working with small groups. No way José. But it’s so much fun – and the children are so freaking excited.
Between these plays and my poem, I'll be surprised if I'm not up for the Man Booker next week.
This stuff is quality.
........ and now I’ve got quotes from
Anastasia stuck in my head ....
Just wishing I could do the job for you, sir. I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA! And then a OUU-WA! And I'd kick her, sir.
.....
You know, you really should watch your blood pressure. My nephew Izzy just keeled over mid-mango. Stress, it's a killer, sir. And he was a fruit bat. No meat. No blood even.
