CUTTING EDGES

SURREAL-ABSURD PLAY

BY SEAN X. QUINN

“FOR THOSE WHO HEAR THE VOICES

BEYOND HUMAN WORD.”
SYNOPSIS:

Stemming from the otherworldly universe of theatrical disturbance,

CUTTING EDGES explores a land of shadows and madness. A SILHOUETTE is
noted to connote the shadowy figure which is society, and thus it’s
presence is often gloomy and meaningless. It is followed by a GROUP of
six other silhouettes, who transform, bio-morph and landscape the setting
of the SILHOUETTE, who hears the voices of these members throughout each
scene.

They toy with his mind, eventually leading him to a schizophrenic state
of murderous mentality, and ultimately form a sense of inescapable
torture. The violent and rabid actions of the SILHOUETTE can be seen as
a build up of anxiety, and draws out the most ragged qualities of him.
Thus a human element to this apparition is given, and leads to his final
death.

While be absurdly driven, and quite often humorous in the first act, the
play is meant to represent the struggles of mental illness, and how those
who are victims of it are prone to erratic and horrifying behaviors.

CHARACTERS:

SILHOUETTE – male

GROUP of SILHOUETTES
double as BUSHES and TIBETAN BOWL PLAYERS

six members – mixture of male and female are allowed.

COSTUME:

All should be dressed in black morph suits, but the face should be able
to be uncovered occasionally. Use of blood-packs or substitues may be
explored for the onstage violence; this may also be implied, but for the
absurdity, it should be explored intimately.
ACT ONE
SCENE ONE: Blunted Blades

A clearing in the early evening. Sounds of birds

and other creates call. A silhouette of a moderately
built man enters.

SILHOUETTE: All is quiet, but still awake…

It scampers across the clearing, unseen by the

naked eye. He lingers…

SILHOUETTE: Eye stay shut, but still they fake.

From behind, four more silhouettes protrude,

standing upright and alert. A trumpet call.
The silhouette stands guilty, hands raised
above head.

SILHOUETTE: Who goes there?

GROUP OF SILHOUETTES: Who goes there?

SILHOUETTE: Be it that I am the guilty? Or is it you who is mistaken.

GROUP: Be it that we are the guilty? Or is it you who is mistaken?

The silhouette walks backwards cautiously. He

does not turn. The group move forward past him
in the same manner, however they walk forward.

GROUP: Stop!

All on stage halt.

SILHOUETTE: Why have we stopped?

GROUP: No reason…

Lights down, a flurry of hurried voices; bustling

and chattering, excitable laughter… Lights
return to show the silhouette surrounded by the
group. All remain still.

SILHOUETTE: But what is my crime?

GROUP: No crime, trial or verdict. Only humour.

They hurriedly disperse to their original

hiding spots, leaving the silhouette alone…
SILHOUETTE: Such peace can never be achieved in such a ragged place. The
trees themselves mock me with their looming trunks and twisted grins in
the branches. The sounds of the night echo around me in a sort of whisper,
but yet it is as though loud enough to be sitting inside my ear. The
sound of the sea is long lost, only the murmurs of the waves echo ‘round
the place, like ghosts of sirens upon rocks.

The lights flicker. A sound of thunder.

SILHOUETTE: I’d say that the sky is a-run with a mysterious force, one
of great demonic strength. In the open it isn’t safe for me to linger
any longer. Lest I wish to escape the toil of heaven’s torrid tears.

The group emerge again, crowding around the

silhouette. He stands and moves to exit, they
move with him; unnoticed. He turns, they remain
out of his sight.

As he reaches the edge of the stage.

GROUP: Stop!

SILHOUETTE: What be the crime now?

GROUP: No crime, trial or verdict. Only…

SILHOUETTE: Humour? In what universe is this hilarious.

GROUP: Every… and none…

SILHOUETTE: What do you…

GROUP: We don’t answer your questions, unless they have intelligent

answers.

Awkward Pause.

SILHOUETTE: So what questions do you answer?

GROUP: No answers! Only verdicts.

SILHOUETTE: But I thought you said…

GROUP: Intelligent answers for intelligent questions… is that not indeed

a…

SILHOUETTE: Verdict, yes. But, you said no verdict… only humour.

GROUP: No crime, trial or verdict. Only humour.

SILHOUETTE: Well, what do you judge this to be? Trial?!

GROUP: Only place for trial is the court. And yet, since we are…

SILHOUETTE: The court? What about judgement, what about justice, what
about… verdict. Here you are, a group of seemless savages, who claim to
have a courting of their own. Such infamous behaviour. Allow me to pass.

He goes to exit, they shuffle in front

of him.

SILHOUETTE: Oh will you just move!

GROUP: No crime, trial or verdict. Only humour…

SILHOUETTE: Will someone please tell me what is so…

GROUP: Humorous?

The group break into shrieking, almost

uncontrollable, absurd laughter. They fall
down and disappear into the stage as the
lights narrow over the silhouette.

SILHOUETTE: Humour? Of all the damned things… I suppose them aggravating

me could’ve caused some tolerable chuckles… but this…?

With a sullenly quizzical countenance, the

silhouette disappears into the darkness. The
groups laughter is heard at a distance,
a soundscape begins. Spatial and effectual,
evoking a displacement of time.

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SCENE TWO: Flickering Candles

A dark room. Many candles are lit around.

A single silhouette sits in the middle,
cross-legged and staring intently.

SILHOUETTE: (murmuring) Flicker, flicker, flicker, quicker. If you do

you’ll get a sticker. Under the bed, beneath your head, till you’re dead…

The group suddenly appear in a line behind,

each holding a long white candle. They
process to form a circle around the silhouette.

They chant softly and randomly; not in

unison.

GROUP: (non-unison) Flicker, flicker, flicker, quicker. If you do you’ll

get a sticker. Under the bed, beneath your head, till you’re dead.
 They continue this intensely.

SILHOUETTE: Over the hills and far beyond, there was a fog across the
pond, and in the night there came a flame, yes every night it’was the
same. Flickered it did like a feather, no matter the time nor matter the
weather, in flittered and flew, until the wind blew, and then soon the
lake would return to blue…

There is a gradual crescendo in the chanting,

the silhouette moves towards the front
standing and staring intently.

SILHOUETTE: That burning ember spurred with light, and did too distil
the dark of night. Further and further I waded in, until the air was
murky and thin. I could not see, it was lost, and at my sanity there was
a cost. I now do wander into the fog, wading until I find a log. Caution
taken to the field, for such story of a weapon weild-ed by the introvert
of all, who’s arms are long, but his back small. The fog shall lift and
when I turn my back, that is his cue… to attack.

There is a screeching of metal, a flash of

light, and an introvert appears from sight…

The group chatter in fright, and disappear

into the night. Blackout. Only the silhouette
remains, panting in angst.

A hand reaches across his face, and takes him

to another place…

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SCENE THREE: Frozen Apples

The clearing, and apple tree. The silhouette

enters cautiously. The group stand at the
back concealed by bushes.

SILHOUETTE: The day is clearer than what it was, and from time to time
a painless breeze fills the plains. But never is it too slow a day to
eat the rich flesh of an apple.

He reaches forward, grasping an apple.

He goes to bite it, but a bush moves.

SILHOUETTE: How on earth does one get peace in this wretched place.

Throws apple on the ground, it rolls.

One of the bushes rushes forward, stops,
cautiously grabs the apple, and then
retracts quickly.
SILHOUETTE: I know you’re there…

BUSHES: But do you?

SILHOUETTE: Yes… I have eyes and ears. Come forth and state what I am
on trial for!

The bushes rush to form a circle around

the silhouette.

BUSHES: No crime, trial or verdict. Only humour!

SILHOUETTE: *groan*

BUSHES: Why do you groan? You should be glad that you are not being
scrutinised.

SILHOUETTE: But I am…

BUSHES: Oh?

SILHOUETTE: By you!

The bushes shrink back in offense. Then

they move forward cautiously. The silhouette
leers them, and they shrink back again.

SILHOUETTE: Go on! Get out of here, and leave me to my apple-eating.

BUSHES: But you can’t, you shan’t, you… wan’t???

SILHOUETTE: Since when did you make the rules?

BUSHES: No rules! No crime, no trial, no verdict and no… rules!

SILHOUETTE: Gosh, now you’re just making stuff up!

Gasps in offense. The bushels drop back

in sadness. Comedic whimpering begins and
the bushes begin to shake with sobbing.
The silhouette appears to be guilty.

SILHOUETTE: Oh… there, there, don’t be sad. I am just a little vexed by

your incessant interruptions.

The bushes sob louder, and shrink down

with disappointment. The silhouette
awkwardly approaches the nearest, attempting
to comfort it. It shrugs him off.

SILHOUETTE: May I ask… what is it you want with me?

 The bushes shudder, turning to face the
silhouette.

BUSHES: Well, we want to just… keep you in line, that’s all. We don’t
like it when people step out of line.

SILHOUETTE: But, I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m fine alone.

BUSHES: But you ask too many questions. We find this as a window of
opportunity for our own… entertainment.

SILHOUETTE: Your own…? entertainment?

The bushes shirk the comment with

a sense of sheepishness.

SILHOUETTE: You mean pestering me, is a form of entertainment?

One of the bushes makes a nodding gesture.

The silhouette is gobsmacked. He walks to
the tree and takes an apple. He bites it,
and then spits it on the ground. The bushes
shrink back, frightened.

SILHOUETTE: If you want to control me, then do it! But I will not abide
this manipulation!

He throws the apple amongst the bushes. One

reaches forward and takes it as the
silhouette exits.

The bushes cluster together as the light

narrows over them. They shake with cold,
as the light dims to almost nothing. The
silhouette can be seen in the background,
wandering slowly, aimlessly, as though blind.
Soon, the lights blackout, and the music
begins.

Segue

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TABELEAUX – The Golden Apples

GROUP alone

----------------------------------------------------------------------
SCENE FOUR: Command of the Wind

A distant gale, the group enters, veiled

by black opaque cloths. They wander in an
aimless fashion, clutching foreachother.

The eventually form a semi-circle, and

circulate at a snail’s pace. The silhouette
enters holding a candle from before. He
stands inside the circle, and the group
halt, no matter their position.

SILHOUETTE: I will lead you all through the wind. I shall help you
through the torrents of the sea, and I can hold off anything but fire
and spears. I am?

GROUP: Boat, on the sea, rocking, rocking, gently.

SILHOUETTE: Rocking? Rocking? Rocking away into the waves?

GROUP: Yes… away into the waves.

SILHOUETTE: Cross oceans, not only waves.

The silhouette reaches into his pocket,

revealing a blunted knife. It still shines
in the dull light. The gale grows closer.

SILHOUETTE: And let that ocean be born.

He turns to each member of the group;

(the numbers indicate the group member
who is killed). They fall, choking on
their breath.

SILHOUETTE: ○1 The blood of men shall form this body of liquid. ○

2 Only
then shall the justice ○3 of my own shall be formed. ○
4 ○
5 ○
6

He steps forward, holding the knife high.

SILHOUETTE: I am the one who hold the hand of justice, and the will of
it shall be done.

He then stabs himself and falls down.

A pool of blood flows from his chest.
The lights fall, the wind current dies
down to a dull roar. The stage dies…

SILHOUETTE: Hold… hold…

GROUP & SILHOUETTE: Hold… hold… (etc…)

 The stage lights die out… only
the motionless cast remains, and the
candle, flickers. A gust of wind
carries across the stage, blowing the
candle out, leaving it all… in darkness.

END ACT ONE

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INTERVAL

----------------------------------------------------------------------
ACT TWO
SCENE FIVE: Voices in the Water

The lights show on the six group

members. They stand over a table,
each with a moderately sized Tibetan
Sing Bowl. They raise them in sync,
and begin to play them1. This is a
constant force throughout the scene.

Enter a silhouette, carrying a large

hemispheric bowl of water. He is wearing
an animal-skull mask. He places the
bowl in the centre of the stage. He
crouches down, playing with the water,
creating splashing sound. A soundscape
of water droplets and bubbles is heard.

The silhouette is suddenly alerted.

SILHOUETTE: Who goes there? Is someone disturbing my presence again.

GROUP: (whispering) Hush… hush… (etc…)

SILHOUETTE: What voices do I hear, as I play my little games. A ghost?

A phantom of spectral forces? Shall I wander amongst the ways in which
you linger? Through corridors of supernatural deviousness as you purloin
my soul into oblivion. Will you not answer me?

GROUP: (whisper) Hush… Hush… shush… (etc…)

SILHOUETTE: Not one single moment do I get to reflect as I did once.

Reflect not only in mirrors but in thought. Can I not be rid of these
exterior forces once, and for all. I made one vow to them, that I would
live about their walls of treacherous obvility to the earth, but not to
hear the mutterings of the spectres from beyond… return to where you
belong; in the divine chambers of sorrow…

The water sounds grow more feverish

and present. The singing bowls continue
to ring throughout the stage. An occasional
clanging of the centre bowl occurs.

SILHOUETTE: Beyond all clatters of the monastery bells, I hear the voices
still…

GROUP: (whispering) Hush… Hush… HUSH!

1Tibetan Singing Bowls – these are played by softly gliding the beater around the rim
of the bowl. This will produce a high-pitched sound. At any point, the player may retake
– lift the beater off resonantly, and then begin to play again.
SILHOUETTE: Remove yourself! Or less so face my countenance! See me that
I am not higher than the powers from above.

GROUP: (less-of-a whisper) Hush! (etc…)

SILHOUETTE: I feel those fearful trees. The arms of branchlings covet

my bod, forcing me into shock and peril. I feel the blades of grass coil
themselves as the seasons echo into spring. The cold of the former land
has drenched them to form forests on the floor of the plains. I can see
them… in front of my eyes…

The group turn to face the silhouette,

still playing their bowls religiously
and form a circle around him. The
silhouette is writhing in pain, clutching
his head and lowering to the floor
in insanity.

SILHOUETTE: Let me not hear this ringing! Let me be! In escape I am

still met with this horror of sound-scapes that evoke memory… I wish to
be free of this audiological prison… let my ears rest! Let me rest! Let
me… rest… ugh… rest… less… ress… res-

He falls still, the blood coming out

of his chest as before. The group
return to their tables, placing down
the bowls and taking the tables from
sight. They move back to the stage,
and lie where they were after their
deaths before.

All is still, the soundscape dissipates

into a distant memory. The lights dim
down, and a dull gale is heard. Then,
a sound of the bowls can be heard.

ALL: Hush… hush… (etc…)

The voices evaporate into the darkness.

Blackout

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SCENE SIX: Miroirs

The clearing, a single sapling

with bright yellow leaves on it.
The stage has no trace of any previous
events, as though they have not
happened yet.

The back of the stage is now

covered with a row of mirrors,
and there are various bells standing
around the place.

In comes a silhouette, carrying

a knife, sharp and glimmering
in the light.

SILHOUETTE: Young leaves do cry for joy, t’is autumn they say. But lest
we see it as the starting, but not the reflection of a past being.

Enter two of the group, carrying

candles.

SILHOUETTE: Oh? A procession of enchanted beings. Ghosts of past and

present.

Enter another of the group, holding

an apple.

SILHOUETTE: But not to be mistaked with those who we haven’t seen. They
linger in the passages of books and rooms of houses we see freely. They
are a community of fleshless beings, moreover a sort of, undead sequence.

The rest enter, carrying blunted

knives. They join the others to form
a circle around the silhouette.
Sounds of water echo, and the sounds
of wind. There is a long silence,
of anticipation?

GROUP: Hush…

SILHOUETTE: What do you want now? Haven’t you been gone enough time to
know of my uncaring of your lives. I have returned here to affirm my
belated task.

He approaches the tree, and takes

a single leaf. A gust of wind crosses
the stage; the candles go out, and
the leaf blows away.
SILHOUETTE: Alas… only the best remain.

He knees in the centre of the

group, light narrowing over him.
The ones brandishing knives hold
fast, and then launch the blades
into him. He gasps with a latent
delight. He drops. The lights
reflect upon the group, who stare
intently out past the stage.

GROUP: Crime, trial and verdict. No humour!

A clattering of wind chimes. A

slashing sound, a ripping of
cloth. A sound of ethereal lust.
The group exit off to the sides,
and leaves the silhouette alone
amongst the sounds of the past,
present, and future.

The sound dissipates into echoes

and is lost in the acoustic of the
room.

A flash of lightning, the silhouette

us trudging off stage, covered in
blood, collapses from sight.

Blackout. Silence. Nothing…

THE END

CURTAIN

COMPLETED 18 – 09 – 2018

SEAN X. QUINN – CUTTING EDGES