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    Funeral Parlor (Audition Sides)

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    sachnish123
    This document provides audition sides for a play featuring a conversation at a funeral between a widow named Susan and a man named Marcus. Marcus offers odd and inappropriate condolences to Susan, making her increasingly uncomfortable by bringing up the deceased's last words and noises, suggesting she keen or sing, and making other strange comments. Susan politely but firmly tries to end their interaction so she can greet other mourners.

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    Funeral Parlor (Audition Sides)

    Uploaded by

    sachnish123
    94 views3 pages
    This document provides audition sides for a play featuring a conversation at a funeral between a widow named Susan and a man named Marcus. Marcus offers odd and inappropriate condolences to Susan, making her increasingly uncomfortable by bringing up the deceased's last words and noises, suggesting she keen or sing, and making other strange comments. Susan politely but firmly tries to end their interaction so she can greet other mourners.

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    This document provides audition sides for a play featuring a conversation at a funeral between a widow named Susan and a man named Marcus. Marcus offers odd and inappropriate condolences to Susan, making her increasingly uncomfortable by bringing up the deceased's last words and noises, suggesting she keen or sing, and making other strange comments. Susan politely but firmly tries to end their interaction so she can greet other mourners.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Download as pdf or txt
    94 views3 pages

    Funeral Parlor (Audition Sides)

    Uploaded by

    sachnish123
    This document provides audition sides for a play featuring a conversation at a funeral between a widow named Susan and a man named Marcus. Marcus offers odd and inappropriate condolences to Susan, making her increasingly uncomfortable by bringing up the deceased's last words and noises, suggesting she keen or sing, and making other strange comments. Susan politely but firmly tries to end their interaction so she can greet other mourners.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
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    Download as pdf or txt
    of 3

    HI-DESERT CULTURAL CENTER

    BOX OFFICE 760.366.3777


    61231 HWY 62 | P.O. BOX 128
    JOSHUA TREE, CA 92252
    www.hidesertculturalcenter.com
    [email protected]

    AUDITION SIDES FOR CHRISTOPHER DURANG’S

    FUNERAL PARLOR
    2007-2008 SEASON

    PAGES 142-144

    Interior: A Funeral Parlor. Quiet, grave (sorry) setting. Perhaps a bit


    of casket shows. Certainly lots of flowers. Hushed atmosphere.
    Susan, the mourning widow, is dressed in black, with pearls. She
    is sedate, proper, formal. A few people are in line, offering their
    condolences, shaking her hand. She acknowledges them with a
    little nod and little smile, and a whispered "Thank you, "As we
    begin, at the end of the line to see Susan is a man named
    Marcus. Marcus is dressed in a nice suit, but it's kind of a light
    color and his tie and shirt are kind of flowery, not really right
    for a funeral, but maybe he had to come straight from work
    (or Hawaii). Otherwise he looks appropriate enough. The
    person before Marcus makes quiet sounds of condolences, and
    leaves. Marcus reaches Susan. He is sincere and genuine, it's
    just that he's, well, odd.

    MARCUS: Susan, I'm so sorry. My deepest condolences.


    SUSAN: Yes, thank you...(??) (She doesn't know who Marcus is.)
    MARCUS: Marcus.
    SUSAN: (Still doesn't know him, but is gracious.) Yes, Marcus.
    Thank you for coming.
    MARCUS: We'll all miss him terribly. .
    SUSAN: Yes. It's a great loss.
    MARCUS: We'll all miss him.
    SUSAN: Yes.
    MARCUS: You must feel terrible.
    SUSAN: Well...I don't feel good. It was a terrible shock.
    MARCUS: Death is always a shock. You're sitting home doing
    nothing, and then suddenly death goes "Boo!", and
    somebody falls down dead.
    SUSAN: Yes. (Looks around, hopes someone else will come over.)
    MARCUS: What were his last words? Were they "Boo"?

    1
    SUSAN: What? "Boo"? No. He didn't really have any last words.
    MARCUS: Did he make any last noises?
    SUSAN: Noises? What?
    MARCUS: Guttural sorts of noises? Or high-pitched-
    shrieking ones? (Makes high-pitched sounds.) Eeeeeeeek!
    Eeeeeeeeeek! Awooooga! Awoooooga!
    SUSAN: Just noises, I don't know. They were lower than that.
    Don't do that anymore.
    MARCUS: (Sympathetically.) Oh, Susan, you poor, poor thing.
    (Turns to someone who's gotten in line behind him.) I
    wouldn't wait if I were you, I'm going to be a while. (The
    person in line looks surprised but goes away; Susan looks
    alarmed)
    MARCUS: All alone in the house now. Alone in the kitchen.
    Alone in the dining room. Alone in the living room—
    living room, that's a mocking phrase now, isn't it? Alone,
    alone, alone. All alone. Alone, alone, alone.
    SUSAN: Please don't go on.
    MARCUS: Yes, but you have to mourn, Susan, to mourn. I always
    thought the Irish were right to do all that keening. Do you
    want to keen, Susan?
    SUSAN: Not really. Thank you anyway.
    MARCUS: How about singing a Negro spiritual?
    SUSAN: I don't th i n k so. (Looks about madly for people.)
    MARCUS: (Sings.) Swing low, sweet chariot, Comin' for to carry
    me home...
    SUSAN: Thank you for coming. .
    MARCUS: Don't you want to sing?
    SUSAN: I don't want to keen or sing. I'm an Episcopalian. I'll
    cry quietly in my room later this evening. Now I must
    attend to the other mourners.
    MARCUS: Susan, you're avoiding the sadness, 1 can't let you do that.
    SUSAN: Please, please let me do that. It's been a terrible day.
    I have to bury my husband.
    MARCUS: Is he in the casket? It's a closed casket, he's not actually in
    some other room, propped up in some stuffed chair or other,
    waiting there to startle someone, is he?
    SUSAN: Certainly not. Thank you so much for coming.
    MARCUS: That would give someone quite a fright. They'd be
    standing by this chair making conversation and then realize
    they were talking to him, only he was stark, stone dead!
    Ahahahahaha, that would be 3 good one!
    SUSAN: Yes, very good. (Calls.) Oh, David! (No luck.)
    MARCUS: I'm going to miss him too, you know.
    SUSAN: Ah, how nice. Or rather, how sad. Well, time heals
    everything.

    2
    MARCUS: You're not the only one with sorrow written on your
    forehead.
    SUSAN: What?
    MARCUS: I should say not. (Shows his forehead, previously covered
    with bangs; it has "sorrow" written on it.) Magic marker. Doesn't
    wash off. We're going to miss hi m on the commuter train.
    We used to exchange morning pleasantries. "Nice
    morning," or "Cold enough for you?" or "The t r ai n seems
    to be on time today for a change."
    SUSAN: I see. Excuse me. I thi nk the mortician is signaling me.
    MARCUS: You know, your husband was the only person on that
    whole damn train who was even wi lli ng to speak to me.
    SUSAN: (Very much at a loss.) How interesting.
    MARCUS: The other people would get panic in their eyes if I even
    started to walk in their direction, and they'd move away, or
    pretend to be sleeping. But they didn't fool me, I'm no dope,
    You can't sleep standing up!
    SUSAN: (Trying to make small talk.) Well, if you're tired enough
    maybe you can.
    MARCUS: Your husband, though, was always very friendly to me. Not
    like my father. Nowadays my father won't even return my phone
    calls, 1 went to a seance and everything.
    SUSAN: What?
    MARCUS: Well he's dead, but I have this medium friend who gave
    me this special 800 number that lets you call the dead. Maybe
    you'd like the number to try to reach your husband on the
    other side.
    SUSAN: I don't think so. Well, que sera, sera. Ah me. La dee dah,
    "Well, t h an k you so much for coming.
    MARCUS: (Warmly.) Well, you're welcome. I just feel so terrible
    about y our husband being gone, an d I don't know what
    I'm going to do on the train in the morning.
    SUSAN: Yes. Well—why don't you read a book?

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