THE PILLOWMAN
Copyright © 2003, Martin McDonagh
All Rights Reserved
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SPECIAL NOTE
Anyone receiving permission to produce THE PILLOWMAN is required to give credit to the Author as sole and exclusive Author of the Play on the title page of all programs distributed in connection with performances of the Play and in all instances in which the title of the Play appears for purposes of advertising, publicizing or otherwise exploiting the Play and/or a production thereof. The name of the Author must appear on a separate line, in which no other name appears, immediately beneath the title and in size of type equal to 50% of the size of the largest, most prominent letter used for the title of the Play. No person, firm or entity may receive credit larger or more prominent than that accorded the Author. The following acknowledgments must appear on the title page in all programs distributed in connection with performances of the Play:
THE PILLOWMAN was first presented by the National Theatre at the Cottesloe, London, directed by John Crowley, on November 13, 2003.
The production was subsequently produced on Broadway by the National Theatre, Robert Boyett Theatricals LLC and RMJF Inc. in association with Boyett Ostar, Robert Fox, Arielle Tepper, Stephanie P. McClelland, Debra Black, Dede Harris / Morton Swinsky / Roy Furman / Jon Avnet in association with Joyce Schweickert, opening at the Booth Theatre, New York City, on April 10, 2005.
THE PILLOWMAN was originally produced by the National Theatre at the Cottesloe in London, England, opening on November 13, 2003. It was directed by John Crowley; the set and costume design were by Scott Pask; the lighting design was by Hugh Vanstone; the sound design was by Paul Arditti; and the original music was by Paddy Cunneen. The cast was as follows:
TUPOLSKI.................Jim Broadbent
KATURIAN.................David Tennant
ARIEL.........................Nigel Lindsay
MICHAL.....................Adam Godley
MOTHER...................Victoria Pembroke
FATHER....................Mike Sherman
THE PILLOWMAN was originally produced in the United States on Broadway at the Booth Theatre in New York City, opening on April 10, 2005. It was produced by the National Theatre, Robert Boyett Theatricals LLC and RMJF Inc. in association with Boyett Ostar, Robert Fox, Arielle Tepper, Stephanie P. McClelland, Debra Black, Dede Harris / Morton Swinsky / Roy Furman / Jon Avnet in association with Joyce Schweickert. It was directed by John Crowley; the set and costume design were by Scott Pask; the lighting design was by Brian MacDevitt; the sound design was by Paul Arditti; and the original music was by Paddy Cunneen. The cast was as follows:
TUPOLSKI................Jeff Goldblum
KATURIAN................Billy Crudup
ARIEL........................Željko Ivanek
MICHAL....................Michael Stuhlbarg
MOTHER..................Virginia Louise Smith
FATHER...................Ted Köch
BOY...........................Jesse Shane Bronstein
GIRL..........................Madeleine Martin
MAN..........................Rick Holmes
CHARACTERS
TUPOLSKI
KATURIAN
ARIEL
MICHAL
MOTHER
FATHER
BOY
GIRL
THE PILLOWMAN
ACT ONE
Scene 1
Police interrogation room. Katurian sitting at table, centre, blindfolded. Tupolski and Ariel enter and sit opposite him, Tupolski with a box file containing a large sheaf of papers.
TUPOLSKI. Mister Katurian, this is Detective Ariel, I'm Detective Tupolski ... Who left that on you?
KATURIAN. What? (Tupolski takes the blindfold off.)
TUPOLSKI. Who left this on you?
KATURIAN. Um, the man.
TUPOLSKI. Why didn't you take it off? It just looks stupid.
KATURIAN. I didn't think I was supposed to.
TUPOLSKI. It just looks stupid.
KATURIAN. (Pause.) Yes.
TUPOLSKI. (Pause.) Like I was saying, this is Detective Ariel and I'm Detective Tupolski.
KATURIAN. Well, the main thing I want to say is, I have complete respect for you and for what you do and I'm glad to help you in any way I can. I have complete respect.
TUPOLSKI. Well, that's good to hear.
KATURIAN. I'm not like some of these ... you know?
TUPOLSKI. Some of these what? I don't know?
KATURIAN. Some of these types of people who have no respect for the police. I have never been in trouble with the police in my life. In my life. And I ...
ARIEL. Never been in trouble until now, you mean.
KATURIAN. Hah?
ARIEL. Repeating myself... You have never been in trouble with the police until now. You mean.
KATURIAN. I'm in trouble with the police now?
ARIEL. What else are you doing here?
KATURIAN. I'm helping you with your enquiries, I thought.
ARIEL. So we're friends of yours, like we've took you here like this is a social visit like we're friends of yours?
KATURIAN. You're not friends of mine, no ...
ARIEL. You have had your rights read. You've been took out of your home. You've had a fucking blindfold on. Do you think we do this to our good fucking friends?
KATURIAN. We're not friends, no. But by the same token, I hope we're not enemies.
ARIEL. (Pause.) I am going to hit you so hard in the fucking head.
KATURIAN. (Pause.) Hah?
ARIEL. Am I mumbling? Tupolski, am I mumbling?
TUPOLSKI. No, you're not mumbling. You're quite clear.
ARIEL. I didn't think I was mumbling.
KATURIAN. You don't ... I will answer everything you want me to. You don't have to ...
ARIEL. "You will answer everything we want you to." There was never a question, "You will answer everything we want you to." There was a question, "How much are you going to make us fuck you up in the meantime?" was what the question was.
KATURIAN. I am going to try not to make you fuck me up at all because the reason is I will answer everything.
TUPO
LSKI. Well, that's a start, isn't it? (Eyeing Katurian, Ariel idles to a side wall, smokes a cigarette.) Why do you suspect we have brought you here? You must suspect some reason.
ARIEL. Look, why don't we just start torturing him and cut out all this shit?
KATURIAN. What...?
TUPOLSKI. Who's the Number One on this case, Ariel, me or you? (Pause.) Thank you. Don't listen to him. Anyway, so why do you suspect we have brought you here?
KATURIAN. I've been racking my brains, but I can't think.
TUPOLSKI. You've been racking your brains but you can't think?
KATURIAN. No.
TUPOLSKI. Well, yes or no?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. Huh?
KATURIAN. Because I've never done anything. I've never done any anti-police thing, I've never done any anti-state thing ...
TUPOLSKI. You've been racking your brains but you can't think of a single reason we might have brought you here?
KATURIAN. I can think of a reason, or, not a reason but a thing I assume there must be a linkage, although I can't sec how there can be a linkage.
TUPOLSKI. The linkage of what? Of what to what? Or, of what to what?
KATURIAN. What? Just, only the thing of how you took my stories away too when you took me, and that you have them there, is the only thing.
TUPOLSKI. And that I have them where? Have you been reading the papers I've got in front of me?
KATURIAN. I haven't been reading...
TUPOLSKI. Papers which, for all you know, may have been some immensely classified, very very secret thing.
KATURIAN. My eyes caught the titles, just glancing.
TUPOLSKI. Oh, like your peripheral vision?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. But, hang on, for it to be your peripheral vision, you'd have to be turned around this way ... (Tupolski turns sideways on, glancing down at papers.) See, like this way. Like sidewards, like this way ...
KATURIAN. I meant...
TUPOLSKI. See? Like this way. Like sidewards.
KATURIAN. I meant my peripheral vision at the bottom of my eyes.
TUPOLSKI. Ohh, the peripheral vision at the bottom of your eyes.
KATURIAN. I don't know if there's a word for that.
TUPOLSKI. There isn't. (Pause.) Why would there be a linkage, your stories, you being taken here? It isn't a crime, you write a story.
KATURIAN. That's what I thought.
TUPOLSKI. Given certain restrictions ...
KATURIAN. Of course.
TUPOLSKI. The security of the state, the security of the general whatever-you-call-it. I wouldn't even call them restrictions.
KATURIAN. I wouldn't call them restrictions.
TUPOLSKI. I would call them guidelines.
KATURIAN. Guidelines, yes.
TUPOLSKI. Given certain guidelines, the security of the whatever, it isn't a crime, you write a story.
KATURIAN. That's what I thought. That's the whole thing.
TUPOLSKI. What's the whole thing?
KATURIAN. I mean, I agree. You read these things, these "stories," supposedly, "The police are all this," "The government is all this." All these political... what would you call 'em? "The government should be doing this." Please. Fuck off. You know what I say? I say if you've got a political axe to grind, if you've got a political what-do-ya-call-it, go write a fucking essay, I will know where I stand. I say keep your left-wing this, keep your right-wing that and tell me a fucking story! You know? A great man once said, "The first duty of a storyteller is to tell a story," and I believe in that wholeheartedly, "The first duty of a storyteller is to tell a story." Or was it "The only duty of a storyteller is to tell a story"? Yeah, it might have been "The only duty of a storyteller is to tell a story." I can't remember, but anyway, that's what I do, I tell stories. No axe to grind, no anything to grind. No social anything whatsoever. And that's why, I can't see, if that's why you've brought me in here, I can't see what the reason would be, unless something political came in by accident, or something that seemed political came in, in which case show me where it is. Show me where the bastard is. I'll take it straight out. Fucking burn it. You know? (Pause. Tupolski stares straight at him.) You know what I mean?
TUPOLSKI. I have to fill this form out now. It's a form in case anything bad happens to you in custody. (Pause.) We've got a mistake here with your name, I think. Your surname is Katurian, yes?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. Sec, we've got your first name as Katurian.
KATURIAN. My first name is Katurian.
TUPOLSKI. (Pause.) Your first name is Katurian?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. And your second name is Katurian?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. Your name is Katurian Katurian?
KATURIAN. My parents were funny people.
TUPOLSKI. Hm. Middle initial?
KATURIAN. K. (Tupolski looks at him. Katurian nods, shrugs.)
TUPOLSKI. Your name is Katurian Katurian Katurian?
KATURIAN. Like I said, my parents were funny people.
TUPOLSKI. Mm. For "funny" I guess read "stupid fucking idiots."
KATURIAN. I'm not disagreeing.
TUPOLSKI. Your address is Kamenice 4443?
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. Which you share with...?
KATURIAN. My brother. Michal.
TUPOLSKI. Ah, Michal. At least it's not fucking "Katurian"!
ARIEL. He's backward, your brother, yeah?
KATURIAN. He's not backward, no. He's slow to get things sometimes.
ARIEL. He's slow to get things. Okay.
TUPOLSKI. Next of kin?
KATURIAN. Michal. My next of kin?
TUPOLSKI. Just formalities, Katurian. You know what I mean? (Pause.) Place of work.
KATURIAN. The Kamenice abattoir.
ARIEL. This writer.
KATURIAN. It's not so bad.
TUPOLSKI. You like your work there?
KATURIAN. No, but it's not so bad.
ARIEL. Cutting up animals.
KATURIAN. I don't cut stuff. I just clear stuff.
ARIEL. Oh, you don't cut stuff. You just clear stuff.
KATURIAN. Yes.
ARIEL. I see.
KATURIAN. I just clear it.
ARIEL. You just clear it. You don't cut it.
KATURIAN. Yes.
ARIEL. I see. (Pause. Tupolski puts his pen down, then tears the form he has been filling in in two.)
TUPOLSKI. That wasn't a form in case anything bad happens to you in custody. I was just mucking around.
KATURIAN. What was it?
TUPOLSKI. It was a piece of paper I was about to tear in two. (Tupolski flips through the sheaf of stories till he finds the one he is looking for.) Here we are, "The Little Apple Men."
KATURIAN. What about it? (Ariel idles hack to table, sits, stubs cigarette out, as Tupolski familiarises himself with the story.) It's not one of my best. (Pause.) It's pretty good, though.
TUPOLSKI. This is a story, it starts off, there is a little girl, and her father treats her badly ...
KATURIAN. He slaps her around and that. He's a ...
TUPOLSKI. You seem to have a lot of st... He's a what?
KATURIAN. What?
TUPOLSKI. The father.
ARIEL. "He's a ... something, you said.
TUPOLSKI. He represents something, does he?
KATURIAN. He represents a bad father. He is a bad father. How do you mean, "represents"?
TUPOLSKI. He is a bad father.
KATURIAN. Yes. He slaps the little girl around.
TUPOLSKI. This is why he is a bad father.
KATURIAN. Yes.
TUPOLSKI. What else does he do to the little girl, "he is a bad father"?
KATURIAN. All the story says, I think, is the father treats the little girl badly. You can draw your own conclusions.
ARIEL. Oh, we can draw our own conclusions, now, can we?
KATURIAN. Hah?
> ARIEL. You're telling us we can draw our own conclusions now, are you?!
KATURIAN. No! Yes!
ARIEL. We know we can draw our own fucking conclusions!
KATURIAN. I know.
ARIEL. Hah?
KATURIAN. I know.
ARIEL. Fucking ... hah?! (Ariel gets up and paces.)
TUPOLSKI. Ariel's getting a bit aggrieved because "We can draw our own conclusions" is, sort of, our job. (Pause.) And the first conclusion we are drawing is exactly how many stories have you got "a little girl is treated badly," or "a little boy is treated badly"?
KATURIAN. A few. A few.
ARIEL. "A few." I'll say a fucking few. The first fucking twenty we picked up was "a little girl is fucked over in this way, or a little boy is fucked over in this way"...!
KATURIAN. But that isn't saying anything, I'm not trying to say anything ...
ARIEL. You're not what?
KATURIAN. What?
ARIEL. Not what?
KATURIAN. What, are you trying to say that I'm trying to say that the children represent something?
ARIEL. "I am trying to say"...?
KATURIAN. That the children represent The People, or something?
ARIEL. (Approaching.) "I am trying to say." He's putting words into my fucking mouth now, "I am trying to say," let alone draw our own fucking conclusions ...
KATURIAN. No...!
ARIEL. We can't even speak now, this fucking man says! Put your fucking hands down...! (Ariel pulls Katurian off his chair by the hair, kneels across him and gouges into his face. Tupolski looks at this, sighs.)
TUPOLSKI. Any time you're ready, Ariel? (Ariel stops, breathing heavily, goes back to his seat. To Katurian:) Retake your seat, please. (In pain, Katurian does so.) Oh, I almost forgot to mention ... I'm the good cop, he's the bad cop. (Pause.) So, back to literature. The father, as we have established, treats the little girl badly, and one day the girl gets some apples and carves some little men out of these apples, all little fingers, little eyes, little toes, and she gives them to her father but she says to him they're not to be eaten, they're to be kept as a memento of when his only little daughter was young, and naturally the pig of a father swallows a bunch of these applemen whole, just to spire her, and they have razor blades in them, and he dies in agony.