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For Miriam
Contents
PRODUCTION CREDITS
The Real Thing was originally produced in London on 16 November 1982 at the Strand Theatre, directed by Peter Wood.
The cast was as follows:
| Max Charlotte Henry Annie Billy Debbie Brodie | Jeremy Clyde Polly Adams Roger Rees Felicity Kendal Michael Thomas Suzanna Hamilton Ian Oliver |
The play was subsequently produced in 1983 at the Baxter Theatre in Cape Town, South Africa, directed by Nikolas Simmonds for Pieter Toerien Productions, in association with Michael Codron, starring Tim Plewman, Gillian Garlick, Richard Haines, Fiona Ramsay, André Jacobs, Ashleigh Sendin, and Ian Roberts.
This production was also staged at the André Huguenet Theatre on 5 August 1983.
The Real Thing opened in New York on 5 January 1984 at the Plymouth Theatre.
The cast was as follows:
| Max Charlotte Henry Annie Billy Debbie Brodie | Kenneth Welsh Christine Baranski Jeremy Irons Glenn Close Peter Gallagher Cynthia Nixon Vyto Ruginis |
Produced by Emanuel Azenberg
Directed by Mike Nichols
Designed by Tony Walton
Lighting by Tharon Musser
A revival of The Real Thing, produced at the Donmar Warehouse, opened in London on 27 May 1999 and moved to the Albery Theatre on 13 January 2000. The Donmar Warehouse revival of The Real Thing opened in New York on 17 April 2000 at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre with the following cast:
| Max Charlotte Henry Annie Billy Debbie Brodie | Nigel Lindsay Sarah Woodward Stephen Dillane Jennifer Ehle Oscar Pearce Charlotte Parry Joshua Henderson |
Produced by Anita Waxman, Elizabeth Williams, Ron Kastner, and Miramax Films
Associate producers: ACT Productions and Randall Wreghitt
Directed by David Leveaux
Scenic design and costumes by Vicki Mortimer
Lighting by Mark Henderson and David Weiner
Sound by John Leonard
CHARACTERS
(in order of appearance)
Max, 40-ish
Charlotte, 35-ish
Henry, 40-ish
Annie, 30-ish
Billy, 22-ish
Debbie, 17
Brodie, 25
ACT ONE
SCENE I
MAX and CHARLOTTE.
Max doesn’t have to be physically impressive, but you wouldn’t want him for an enemy. Charlotte doesn’t have to be especially attractive, but you instantly want her for a friend.
Living-room. Architect’s drawing board, perhaps. A partly open door leads to an unseen hall and an unseen front door. One or two other doors to other rooms.
Max is alone, sitting in a comfortable chair, with a glass of wine and an open bottle to hand. He is using a pack of playing cards to build a pyramidical, tiered viaduct on the coffee table in front of him. He is about to add a pair of playing cards (leaning against each other to hold each other up), and the pyramid is going well. Beyond the door to the hall, the front door is heard being opened with a key. The light from there changes as the unseen front door is opened.
Max does not react to the opening of the door, which is more behind him than in front of him.
MAX Don’t slam—
The front door slams, not violently. The viaduct of cards collapses.
(Superfluously, philosophically) … the door.
Charlotte, in the hall, wearing a topcoat, looks round the door just long enough to say two words and disappears again.
CHARLOTTE It’s me.
Max leaves the cards where they have fallen. He takes a drink from the glass. He doesn’t look up at all. Charlotte, without the topcoat, comes back into the room carrying a small suitcase and a plastic duty-free airport bag. She puts the case down and comes up behind Max’s chair and kisses the top of his head.
CHARLOTTE Hello.
MAX Hello, lover.
CHARLOTTE That’s nice. You used to call me lover.
She drops the airport bag on his lap and returns towards the suitcase.
MAX Oh, it’s you. I thought it was my lover. (He doesn’t look at his present. He puts the bag on the floor by his chair.) Where is it you’ve been?
The question surprises her. She is deflected from picking up her suitcase—presumably to take it into the bedroom—and the case remains where it is.
CHARLOTTE Well, Switzerland, of course. Weren’t you listening?
Max finally looks at her.
MAX You look well. Done you good.
CHARLOTTE What, since yesterday?
MAX
