DIRECTOR: Stop! Who are you talking to?

WOMAN: (embarrassed) To… to my lover.

DIRECTOR: Who’s lying dead in the coffin?

WOMAN: But he dumped me. I’m not about to call him “dear friend.”

DIRECTOR: (wearily) He didn’t dump you, he left you. Left you for a higher life, an eternal life, where you’ll be reunited with him one day. That’s how you categorize the image you’re constructing. And you mustn’t yell “I’m not going to cry.” On the contrary, you’re crying bitter tears… I’m sensing that your thoughts are still at your party. Sit down, learn your lines properly, and think about your role. And have some coffee, to sober you up a bit. (nodding to CONSULTANT sitting demurely in the corner) That girl will pour you a cup.

WOMAN: (with a wary glance at CONSULTANT) No, why bother her? I can go on just fine like this.

DIRECTOR: You’ve been told to sit down. In the meantime, I’ll work with the other actor. (to MAN) Take it away.

MAN: (goes to the center of the stage, stops, unfolds the paper with his lines; a pause) Should I portray sorrow too?

DIRECTOR: (sarcastically) No, unbridled joy. (fiercely) You’re standing over a coffin, damn it! Does this really need an explanation?

MAN: I get it. (portraying sorrow) Dear friend!

DIRECTOR: Stop! We’ve already had “dear friend.” Couldn’t you start with something different, for a change? At least “unforgettable friend”? Are you both delivering the same speech?

MAN: Sorry, I took her lines by mistake. (goes to the row of chairs, picks up the sheet with his lines, and returns to his place; another pause) Tell me, will I be speaking from a podium tomorrow or just standing?

DIRECTOR: There’s no podium near the coffin. So there’ll be nowhere to hide your cheat sheet.

MAN: Then I’ll have to learn my speech by heart?

DIRECTOR: You haven’t learned it yet?

MAN: I’m more used to reading from a script, you see. People of our standing aren’t allowed to improvise.

DIRECTOR: You’ll have to do it without your cheat sheet this one time.

MAN: I could get confused.

DIRECTOR: So long as you don’t get very confused, that’s no big deal. It’s even better, in fact. You’re sort of agitated, depressed by what’s just happened, the words aren’t coming easy.

MAN: I get it. (searches through the sheets of paper for his place and gets ready to start)

DIRECTOR: Don’t forget to look mournful.

MAN: (assuming a mournful look) Dear friend!

DIRECTOR: (exploding) Again with the “dear friend”? Are you jerking me around?

MAN: Sorry, that was a reflex. I’m a little flustered.

DIRECTOR: Very well. Start again.

MAN adopts a mournful pose and opens his mouth, but just then CONSULTANT’s phone rings.

CONSULTANT: Hello! Yes. Good. Is everything ready? When? In about an hour? Check again, Colonel. To make sure it all goes off without a hitch.

DIRECTOR: (fiercely) I thought I ordered everyone to turn off their phones. Why didn’t you do as I said?

CONSULTANT: I’m not authorized to turn off my phone. Especially on a day like this.

DIRECTOR: And I don’t care what you’re authorized to do. Here, the only important thing is the rehearsal. (pounds his fist on the table and glares at everyone) If anyone else’s phone rings, I… (to MAN) Continue.

MAN: (instead of starting his speech, starts rummaging through his pockets) Sorry…

DIRECTOR: (through clenched teeth) What now?

MAN: I can’t find my glasses.

DIRECTOR: To hell with your glasses! Tomorrow you’ll have no glasses and no script either. Speak, say something! Imagine yourself on a platform in the middle of a spacious square. An open coffin stands before you, the orchestra has fallen silent, the guard is motionless, dozens of television cameras are pointed at you, the whole country is watching you, waiting to hear what you’re going to say. Will you be rummaging around in your pockets then?

MAN: But I haven’t learned the speech yet.

DIRECTOR: I know you haven’t learned it. But for now don’t think about what to say, just how to say it.

CONSULTANT: (from her corner) The “what” is important too.

DIRECTOR: (threateningly) Nobody asked you.

MAN: And how must it be said?

DIRECTOR: Sincerely, with feeling. Your words should come from your very heart… Remember in Faust? “Let apes and children praise your art, if their admiration’s to your taste, But you’ll never speak from heart to heart, unless it rises up from your heart’s space.” Got it? Well! Off you go!

MAN: (reading from the paper in his hand) Dear brother!..

DIRECTOR: Don’t look at the paper but at the camera, right at the camera!

MAN: But there’s no camera.

DIRECTOR: Here, in rehearsal, I’ll play the role of the camera. And tomorrow, during the show, think of it the other way, that the camera’s your director. It’s me, your best friend. Looking into the camera’s eye – directly into the lens, that is – address it as if it were a living person. Keep this in mind: that way you’ll be looking into the eyes of millions of people, and they’ll be looking at you. Clear? Off you go!

MAN: (staring intently at DIRECTOR) Dear brother!..

DIRECTOR: Stop! You’re looking at the camera, and that’s good, but you’ve forgotten to portray grief.

MAN: It’s difficult to remember everything at once – my face, and the camera, and the words, and the grief. I’m afraid of losing the thread.

DIRECTOR: To hell with the words, then! Words are the least of your worries. If you can’t remember, don’t. Words aren’t important in the modern theater. The main thing is to express emotion.

CONSULTANT: (from her corner) All the same, it seems to me that the words are important too.

DIRECTOR: (to CONSULTANT) Should I kick you out now or wait for you to pipe up again? (to MAN) Continue. Your face should be sad but at the same time serene, inspiring energy and optimism. Yes, your best friend has left you too soon, but he will always stay with you, in your heart. He will not be forgotten. His work will never die. And you will be the one to carry it on. So, start over! Sobs constrict your throat…

MAN: (in a strangled voice, while unsuccessfully trying to create a mixture of sadness, energy, and optimism on his face) Dear brother!

DIRECTOR: What are you muttering there?

MAN: This sobbing’s making my throat tight.

DIRECTOR: So it’s tight, but you still have to speak clearly.

MAN: (in his own voice) All this is very difficult. How can anybody portray sorrow and optimism at once? This isn’t going anywhere.

DIRECTOR: (furious) It isn’t going anywhere because you don’t know how to put in the work, and you don’t even want to. I’m afraid I’m only wasting my precious time with you.

MAN: (unexpectedly gruff and arrogant) You forget yourself, my dear sir. Please watch your tone. Yes, we have no acting talent. What of it? We don’t have to. We’re busy with more important things. Politicians should never be actors.

DIRECTOR: You’re wrong. It’s actors who should never be politicians. A good politician ought to be an actor, though. But so be it. If I ever find the time, I’ll give you some private lessons. Provided you make it worth my while, needless to say. In the meantime, go run your lines in front of a mirror and learn the words.

MAN: (tightly wound now) You’re being way too familiar, and it’s unacceptable – do you hear me? We’re not floozies in vaudeville or wherever you normally do your thing, but upstanding, respected people. Conduct yourself accordingly.

DIRECTOR: Theater 101: the director is all, and the rest, whoever they may be, are nobody and nothing, empty suits, clothes hangers, dolls, and puppets. Is that clear?

MAN: And I say again: we will not tolerate being taunted just because we’re having trouble with one thing or another!

DIRECTOR: (mocking) “With one thing or another”… Such modesty! “One thing or another”! (ferociously.) You’re having trouble with everything! Do you hear? Everything! (thinks for a moment) This is what I’m going to do. Tomorrow I’m going to put a sniper in the window of the building closest to the square. And if you haven’t learned your lines, as soon as you make the first mistake, the rifle will make bang-bang. I’ll have the second coffin all ready. And your partner will double up on her speech over the twin graves. (to WOMAN) Won’t you?

WOMAN: With pleasure.

DIRECTOR: That will, I assure you, be one awe-inspiring show. It’s a pity that you won’t be there to enjoy it.

MAN: Your little jokes are stupid and out of place.

DIRECTOR: But I’m not joking at all. There’s less than twenty-four hours left before we thoroughly disgrace ourselves, so stop talking and buckle down at last. Every show demands hard work and preparation, and ours especially. It involves countless hordes of people, and we’re down to the wire.

CONSULTANT: You seem nervous. Afraid you aren’t going to make it?

DIRECTOR: I’m never afraid of anything. It’ll all be ready in time. I’ve staged spectacles on streets, and on squares, and in stadiums, and in swimming pools… And everything always went like clockwork. This is my profession. I work like a horse, but I demand the same attitude to the work from everyone else.

MAN: I’m not against work, but I do require respect. I’m not some whippersnapper – I’m a big deal. A very big deal.

DIRECTOR: And I require respect too. In your free time, away from rehearsals, by all means run the government or the country, I couldn’t care less. But here I’m directing this production, and you’re only actors in it and have to do what you’re told.

MAN: So stick to your business, but don’t forget who you are and who I am.

DIRECTOR: I’m not forgetting that you’re our prime minister, our fearless leader. Although the male lead in the seediest provincial theater would play that part in tomorrow’s performance far better than you. And you, in turn, don’t forget that I’m the one who forged your image when you were being groomed for the prime minister spot. I’m the one who taught you how to walk, talk, dress, carry yourself, so that you’d look every bit like a serious, intelligent, upstanding person. But now we’re in rehearsal, not at some government meeting. And in rehearsal, everyone obeys just one person. Namely, the director. And that director is me.

MAN: Permit me to…

DIRECTOR: (cutting MAN off) And I make so bold as to observe that when a minister is removed from his post, he becomes nobody, the “former,” the “ex” whatever. But no one will take my calling from me. I was, am, and will remain a top-flight professional.

MAN: But that doesn’t give you the right…

DIRECTOR: (cutting him off again) Wait, I haven’t finished yet. If you make a mess of tomorrow’s nationwide broadcast, it’ll be your mess, of course. Unfortunately, though, it will be mine too. You’ll probably be fired, but I’ll survive it. No one’ll fire me. Still, I value my reputation as the country’s best director, and I don’t want to lose it because of you. And I won’t let either of you go until you deliver your speeches the way you should. This is, first of all, in your own interests. How come you aren’t understanding that?

MAN: (less confident) I just wanted to say that I don’t like the way you rehearse.

DIRECTOR: Directing’s part of my job description, so leave that to me. If you let all the professionals do what they do the way they want to, as they know best, our country would have changed to the good long ago. But you interfere with everything and spoil everything. (pointing to WOMAN) Take your fellow member of the government as your example. She’s sitting quietly and not trying to stretch the rehearsal out with pointless bickering. (to WOMAN) Because you’re a minister, an elected representative, or something like that too, aren’t you?

WOMAN: What of it?

DIRECTOR: Nothing. So what are you running there?

WOMAN: What ministry would they give to a woman? Only what is considered the most unimportant, third-rate – health care, education, culture…

DIRECTOR: And which of those ministries do you head up?

WOMAN: Me…? (racking her brains) It’s… You know… Education, I think… Or no – Culture. I always get them mixed up. (to MAN) Do you remember? At present I’m Minister of what – Education or Culture?

MAN: (sullenly) Agriculture.

WOMAN: Right! For some reason I was thinking Culture.

MAN: You were head of Culture last time around.

WOMAN: Why didn’t you remind me before? At yesterday’s meeting, I kept saying that our main aim is to develop culture.

MAN: No big deal. They probably thought you were pushing them to improve crop cultivation or something.

CONSULTANT: Sorry to interfere, but the rehearsal’s fallen off the radar. Isn’t it time we got back to it?

DIRECTOR: My dear girl, it’s obvious that you don’t understand a thing about the theater. All rehearsals mainly consist of unnecessary chit-chat and people at each other’s throats. Without conflict, no show is ever born. But I wasn’t just wool-gathering. I’m feeling that tomorrow’s performance is missing something. Something that pops… It’s all boring, mundane. There’s nothing spectacular about it… It’s how anyone would do it… I need to come up with something – a discovery, a hook, a gimmick, a ploy… (thinks for a moment) Maybe our esteemed prime minister will ravish this fine figure of a woman on live TV.

WOMAN: Me?!

DIRECTOR: Who else?

MAN: You’re out of your mind!

WOMAN: What’s the big whoop? I don’t mind.

MAN: Neither do I, but why do it when the cameras are rolling?

DIRECTOR: For the scandal.

MAN: Why?

DIRECTOR: What d’you mean “why”? There can be no success without a scandal. Who’s interested in watching a funeral? It’s all pretty dreary, so been-there, done-that. I did instruct the designer to zhuzh it up as much as possible, and make it more festive and cheerful – but a funeral’s a funeral. Always the same thing – glum faces, phony eulogies… The viewers will click over, to a football game or their favorite soap. But if there’s a scandal, they’ll talk about it, interest will skyrocket, people will insist on reruns. My stagings always involve a scandal. The rest doesn’t interest me, or the viewers.

CONSULTANT: But what does physical violation have to do with a funeral?

DIRECTOR: Nothing. That’s the trick of it. One time I set up a welcome ceremony for a foreign leader, and do you know what I came up with? Naked girls with an obscene tattoo on their breasts came running out to meet him at the airport. That bit of film got airtime on every station worldwide.

MAN: And what did the foreign dignitary say?

DIRECTOR: He was very pleased. The girls were just what the doctor ordered, and he became a household name all over the world. And before that, no one had even heard of him. That’s how a success is made. And when I was directing an orchid festival in Singapore…

CONSULTANT: Sorry to interfere again, but this isn’t a stroll down memory lane.