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WOMAN: (holding the paper with her lines) Dear Alexander!.. (to DIRECTOR) Alexander – who’s that?
DIRECTOR: The person you’re burying, obviously.
WOMAN: Was his name Alexander?
DIRECTOR: Probably. You ought to know.
CONSULTANT: (with barely concealed irritation) Yes, his name’s Alexander. Do you really not remember?
WOMAN: How’m I supposed to know? I’d never heard of any Alexander before he blew the whistle on our real estate and oil deals.
CONSULTANT: (gruffly) My dear, when you speak, your words should be better than silence. The director doesn’t need to know the details of your private life.
WOMAN: What did I say that was so wrong? We’re among friends here.
CONSULTANT: (decisively) Come with me. You need a splash of cold water. And a change of clothes, into something more decent.
WOMAN: But what about the rehearsal?
CONSULTANT: The director will work with our esteemed premier in the meantime.
DIRECTOR: Who put you in charge, to be bossing people around and interfering with my work?
CONSULTANT: I’m not interfering, I’m helping. (to WOMAN, in a commanding tone) Let’s go.
WOMAN makes for the door, but CONSULTANT stops her.
Hold on. Give me your purse for a minute. (takes WOMAN’s purse, removes a bottle of brandy, and puts it on the shelf) Now we can go.
CONSULTANT and WOMAN exit.
DIRECTOR: (to MAN) So. I’ll have to work just with you for now. The principal task of tomorrow’s show is high ratings, is that clear? That’s the spirit in which the show must be framed.
MAN: I completely agree with that as far as my personal approval numbers are concerned. But not that woman’s numbers. She shouldn’t have been allowed to take part in the performance at all.
DIRECTOR: I don’t quite understand who you’re talking about. The consultant?
MAN: No, that… lady minister. I don’t want to say anything bad about her, but you can see for yourself that she’s a complete airhead.
DIRECTOR: An actress needs talent, not brains. You’re not good with her as an actress?
MAN: I’m not good with her as a politician.
DIRECTOR: What’s wrong with her?
MAN: The fact that there’s been too much of her recently. She’s sticking her nose in everywhere, giving interviews to everyone, sounding off on every issue. And d’you know why? You won’t believe it: she has her sights set on my job.
DIRECTOR: She has?!
MAN: Of course. Why are you surprised? Don’t you know that the more mediocre a person is, the more overblown his ambitions are?
DIRECTOR: Why did you bring her into your government?
MAN: You think I’m the one who brought her in? Unfortunately, not everything depends on me… Besides, there are various political considerations…
DIRECTOR: What considerations could there be, other than the wheeling and dealing?
MAN: Decorum and political calculation require a minimum of two or three women in the government. And preferably not old battleaxes, but the kind that can be shown on TV. So I had to bring her in. Besides, the others were even worse.
DIRECTOR: And you don’t take smarts and fitness for the job into account?
MAN: What do smarts have to do with it? You can’t see that on TV. You know the old joke “Is it better to be stupid or bald?” The answer is “Stupid. It’s not so noticeable.” So broads like that shine on screen, while others do their work for them.
DIRECTOR: That’s all well and good, but what do you want from me? My business isn’t with the government, it’s with this rehearsal. I can’t kick her out. She’s written into my contract. The viewers want to see not only a coffin and glum faces, but also a trendy hairstyle, an elegant suit, a slender waist, legs all the way up to there, and the rest of it. It’ll liven up the spectacle. Everybody’ll be talking about it. Plus, there has to be a woman crying bitter tears at a staged funeral. She comes off as more sincere, more emotional than a man. Women are believed to be more driven by feeling than by reason. They tug harder at the viewer’s heartstrings.
MAN: (gloomy) So the long and the short of it is that all eyes will be on her, and only her.
DIRECTOR: Very well. I’ll try to balance that out.
MAN: Isn’t there some way of getting by without her?
DIRECTOR: I’ve already told you no. Anyway, it’s too late.
MAN: But at least show her as little as you can. Or film it so that she seems even more of a birdbrain, if that’s possible. You can do that. Or cut her out of the shot altogether.
DIRECTOR: You’d best mind your own business and leave my work to me.
WOMAN returns. She has sobered up a little and has even had time to change into a dark, well-tailored suit appropriate for a funeral.
MAN: (cheerfully) Our beauty’s back! We could hardly wait.
WOMAN: I know. That’s why I made it snappy.
DIRECTOR: (in a low tone, to MAN) And you turn out not to be such a bad actor after all.
MAN: (cheerfully) Let’s pull together now, the three of us, and get on with the job.
WOMAN: (to MAN) The consultant’s asking you to step out for a moment. She wants to talk to you.
DIRECTOR: She can wait. We have better things to do than chat. Let’s get down to business.
MAN: (hastily) No, no, I’ll go… I won’t be long. (exits)
WOMAN: Did you see that? He ran to her like an obedient little puppy dog. (with contempt) And they call him a prime minister!
DIRECTOR: But really, why do the two of you kowtow to an assistant?
WOMAN: You can’t guess?
DIRECTOR: I haven’t thought too much about it.
WOMAN: And I suggest that you don’t think much about it going forward either.
DIRECTOR: I don’t intend to. OK, let’s go over your monologue again.
WOMAN: Very well. Although I must confess, I’m tired of it. Where did we stop?
DIRECTOR: We haven’t started yet, if you ask me.
WOMAN stands before the “camera” and is about to say something, but doesn’t utter a word.
What? Still don’t know your part? (prompting) Dear friend!
WOMAN: Dear friend! (glances around, lowers her voice, and speaks in a different tone) Dear friend, while there’s no one else here, I’d like to speak with you.
DIRECTOR: (puzzled) What about?
WOMAN: First, even though I’m a blonde, I’m not as birdbrained as you think.
DIRECTOR: So you say.
WOMAN: You don’t believe it?
DIRECTOR: I do.
WOMAN: If I hadn’t pretended to be a ding-dong, they wouldn’t have brought me into the government. I’d’ve been passed over if I came off as brainy. They’re afraid of competition.
DIRECTOR: Is that all you wanted to tell me?
WOMAN: No.
DIRECTOR: What else?
WOMAN: So, when you were rehearsing with the prime minister, you said that all the cameras at the ceremony will be directed at him.
DIRECTOR: Well?
WOMAN: Why on him and not on me?
DIRECTOR: And why on you and not on him?
WOMAN: Because I’m a woman.
DIRECTOR: And he’s the prime minister.
WOMAN: I thought your answer would be that he’s a man. So believe me, he’s not a man.
DIRECTOR: We’ll not be filming him as a man, though, but as the prime minister.
WOMAN: And what kind of prime minister is he?
DIRECTOR: Who is he, then?
WOMAN: A doll, a puppet, a head honcho in name only, an empty suit. Put in that position for show, as a figurehead, as good TV. But all his work is done by his three senior staffers.
DIRECTOR: For tomorrow’s production, that doesn’t matter at all. More important are his noble head with its graying locks and his velvety baritone. And I’m not authorized to deny him the right to speak.
WOMAN: But can it be done so that only my speech will be broadcast?
DIRECTOR: And what am I to do with his performance?
WOMAN: Drown it out.
DIRECTOR: Drown it out? How?
WOMAN: Well, for example, have a squadron of heavy bombers fly over the square during his speech.
DIRECTOR: That’s a gutsy idea, but I don’t think it’ll quite come off.
WOMAN: Still, I’m asking you to point all the cameras at me and no one else.
DIRECTOR: Why do you need that?
WOMAN: Because I want to be prime minister.
DIRECTOR: You?!
WOMAN: Why not?
DIRECTOR: Hmm… You’re a woman. You’ll find it harder to deliver the goods.
WOMAN: Even in backward countries – England or India, for example – women have been leading governments for ages. Why can’t I?
DIRECTOR: Do you think you’ll do better work than he does?
WOMAN: Why work? I’ll have the same three senior staffers.
DIRECTOR: But you couldn’t even handle Culture.
WOMAN: Who told you I couldn’t? You bet I could! It was very simple. They taught me to talk up the importance of culture and cut down on the money allocated to it. That’s all. And that poor apology for a prime minister doesn’t even know how to put two words together. Do you know why I agreed to let him ravish me?
DIRECTOR: I can guess.
WOMAN: No you can’t. First, he wouldn’t be able to.
DIRECTOR: How do you know that?
WOMAN: (pointedly) I know. Second, he’d be fired immediately afterward, and my approval rating, vice versa, would immediately take off. And then… Who knows?..
