BROADWAY: THE RIDE
A "Broadway Abridged" Script
By Gil Varod and Jennifer Jordan
SCENE: AN EMPTY STAGE.
LOOK DOWN
LOOK DOWN
OH, PRISON LIFE IS D--
SCENE: AN EMPTY STAGE.
...and you win the three human skulls, you peculiar rich man.
Auction Lot number 665, ladies and gentlemen. A creepy-ass
monkey playing the cymbals that was once a meaningless
weighted object in a Rock Opera that ran longer than CATS.
Can we start at fifteen francs?
Fifteen francs.
Fifteen francs going once, going twice...
And two bits.
You can't outbid yourself, sir.
But I'm the only bidder here. It makes a boring auction
otherwise.
Sold to the crazy old man, for fifteen francs and twenty five
American cents.
(to monkey)
A poem, by OLD MAN RAOUL:
Oh little monkeything, you are so weird.
Will you still be playing when the rest of us are dead?
Do you think anyone knows what the heck is going on right
now? Or who the heck I am?
Oh little monkeything.
(bows)
Pathetic.
Now we're going to auction off a CHANDELIER! This relic of a
late 1980s Broadway musical was once considered an impressive
display of theatrical technology. Today, stupid
tourists still love it.
It is presented as LOT SIX-SIX-SIX,
WHICH IS THE DEVIL'S NUMBER!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
RISE, RISE,
DEVIL'S CHANDELIER!
(sounds like the name of
a bad horror film)
Oooooooh an object being moved by a pulley system OOOOOOOH!
SCENE: THE WORST OPERA THAT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE.
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Humongous cast, these are your new Opera Owners. They will
provide feeble ineffective "comic relief", as we BRITISH say.
Which, um, we're NOT.
I'm the lead. This annoys me, THE LEAD, for no reason
because I'm a "Prima Donna". That's Italian for "Freak".
I'm hungry.
THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA MUST HAVE DONE IT!
Come now, there's no such thing as Phantoms of Operas!
Oh no, there is. You have to pay him twenty thousand francs
a month, and from time to time he will kill a chorus member.
Also he may or may not be the guy who composes every single
one of the operas we put on.
Did I forget to mention that?
(skedaddles)
He drops a very very light backdrop. He glues a French Franc
to the floor and nobody can pick it up. He puts Saran Wrap
on the toilets.
He switches the salt and pepper shakers--my Coq au Vin was
WAAYYYY too peppery.
I CAN'T POSSIBLY WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS! AND I'M NOT
THE LEAD ANYMORE!
That's fine, we'll have the understudy do it.
it is a new opera. there is no understudy.
we only have understudies for revivals.
That makes zero sense.
Christine Die, Eh? could sing the part. She's got a tew-tah.
A what?
A tew-tah.
This is why you're only a dancer.
Who teaches you, Christine?
(hiding behind wardrobe)
That's it Christine, fling your arms out!
(in hideous Sarah Brightman
wig)
Like this, disembodied voice that is giving me singing
lessons for free?
(dramatically jumping, then
hiding behind a couch)
Yes. Now remember this, never sing unless your arms are
flung out or you'll end up singing not good. Occasionally
you can hug yourself too, that's okay.
That Christine, she "always" has her head in the clouds. And
by "always", I mean "in this scene".
let her sing for you. she's awesome.
SCENE: CHRISTINE IS SINGING ONSTAGE IN THE REAL OPERA, AND
PROBABLY DOESN'T HAVE AN UNDERSTUDY EITHER.
Can it be, can it be Christine?
BRAVO!
What a change, you're really not a meanie.
The reviewers love her way more, because she's thinner!
Waaaah. I'm not the lead anymore.
christine, you did a great job for the disfigured man i
...
you didn't hear me say that.
as for you, dancers, you all did uniformly terribly.
everybody, rehearsal, now.
What? It's eleven forty five at night. That's ridiculous.
actors equity doesn't cover operas. or exist yet. now dance
in the background behind a scrim for the next ten minutes
without music while nobody in the audience even notices.
HEY. I don't know if you remember me, my name's Raoul, we
were friends when we were little. I was pretty foppish and
weak so you probably didn't notice me. Also something vague
about a scarf.
(barely noticing that this is
the first time she's seen him
since she was 14)
Also something about a little Latte.
So what have you been up to?
For eight to ten years? I went through puberty, still
rocking the "foppish and weak" thing...
So, you know, there was that. You look pretty today.
Father said, "When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the
Angel of Music to you". Well, father is dead, Raoul, and I
have been visited by the Angel of Music.
...hmm.
(off-stage)
OOOOGLY BOOGLY BOO!
Angel of Music?!?!?!? I installed a one-way mirror just like
you asked.
I know.... OH... I KNOW...
(drools)
Come, step directly through the mirror with me somehow!
Sure. I always step into small corridors that are filled
with smoke.
ONE OF MY MANY INEXPLICABLE MAGIC POWERS IS THE ABILITY TO
INSTALL AUTOMAGIC DOOR OPENERS LIKE THE KIND YOU FIND AT
PATHMARK!
Darn! And I probably would have gotten a kiss from her tonight.
(to audience)
Oh, you don't think so? Why you little-
SCENE: THE IMPOSSIBLY ELABORATE UNDERGROUND LAIR OF THE
PHANTOM
Phantom, where are we?
I'm not the Phantom, Christine, I'm the Phantom double.
Why do you exist?
What?
I didn't say anything.
REAL PHANTOM! Where are we?
This is the Phantom Of The Opera flume ride originally built
for Universal Studios. The Operahouse of France is trying to
put on a performance of a new work, but SOMETHING HAS GONE
HORRIBLY WRONG!
Wow!
(if you look in the mirror, he's
in the flume WITH YOU!)
Yeah, unfortunately the movie kinda tanked, so we took the
audio-animatronics and put them into the Broadway show. You
can hardly tell! can hardly tell! can hardly tell! can
hardly tell! can hardly tell! can hardly tell! can hardly
(smacks him in the side of the
head)
SING ONCE AGAIN FOR ME
MY CREPE SUZETTE!
Lemme just get comfortable here... take off my hat, my cape,
my shoes, put on my slippers, take off my mask--HA! GOTCHA!
...
Now sing for me!
SING FOR ME MY ANGEL OF MUSIC!
SING FOR ME!
DO IT!
DOOOOOO IT!
WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!
What song do you you want me to sing? Like a specific song?
I don't know, just choose one note and sing it over and over
again.
Okay.
(singing)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
(long, deep breath)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
(hyperventilates)
(in a twenty minute song that
goes like this:)
OOOOHHH DARKNESS, ANGEL MUSIC NIGHT,
MUSIC MUSIC DARKNESS ANGEL NIGHT,
LET YOUR FEAR GIVE IN TO MUSIC
LET YOUR MUSIC GIVE IN TO FEAR.
DARKNESS DARKNESS ANGEL MUSIC NIGHT
I AM YOUR ANGEL OF MUSIC
YOU ARE MY ANGEL OF MUSIC TOO
TOGETHER WE ARE DUAL ANGELS OF MUSICS.
(pacing back and forth awhile)
MUUUUUUUUUSSSSSIIIIIIIIIICSSSS
This is really endearing and not creepy at all!
Oh, so I wanted to show you this thing I made. It's a wax
figure of you, in a wedding dress.
(gesturing to it very
presentationally)
It's made to your exact dimensions. And I stole some sweat
off of your body while you were sleeping.
SO SHE SMELLS LIKE YOU TOO.
Ah.
(miming a completely
unintelligible song on the
organ)
THIS IS MY KINGDOM.
WHERE ALL MUST PAY HOMAGE TO MUSIC.
CAUSE MUSIC IS MAGIC.
LIKE THE FORCE.
I wonder what he looks like under the mask. I bet the best
way to find out is to just walk right up to him and pull it
off while he's fully awake.
OOOH! OH, YOU GOT ME!
YOU VIXEN! YOU HARLOT! YOU PANDORA! YOU DELILAH! YOU
PERSEPHONE! YOU OTHER LITERARY FIGURES I LOOKED UP ON THE
SHAKESPEARE INSULT GENERATOR!
Can I go home yet?
I finally feel for Christine's character!
SCENE: OFFICE OF BOTH OPERA OWNERS, WHERE EVERYBODY PRESUMES
RAOUL AND CHRISTINE ARE LOVERS EVEN THOUGH CHRISTINE
DISAPPEARED IMMEDIATELY AFTER THEY FIRST RE-MET.
THERE ARE SO MANY LETTERS!
SCENE: THE OTHER WORST OPERA THAT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN IN YOUR
LIFE.
I am cheating on my husband with a female dressed as a
pageboy!
I am playing a mute boy who OOPS.
Nineteenth century Frenchmen will watch anything!
Guuuuuuyyyyyyyssssssss...
(sobs ridiculously)
You didn't listen to my casting notes AT ALLLLLLLL.
Now I will casually mention bringing down the Chandelier even
though I won't decide to bring it down till the next scene.
THIS IS WAR!
(in a frog voice?)
Wait you have the power to do what now!
That's not all I can do! Check this out.
(froggily)
IT'S THE SARAN WRAP ALL OVER AGAIN!
I am NOT the lead anymore! PRIIIIMMMAAAA DOOOONNNAAAA!!!
Raoul, come quickly, we must go to the rooftop at night,
because maybe Phantoms are afraid of rooftops at night.
There is no such thing as a Phantom. Or maybe there is. I
can't decide.
Isn't it blissfully coincidental that the Phantom uses the
same "Angel of Music" terminology that my dead Dad used to?
His intimate knowledge of your childhood concerns me. How
about I propose to you without a ring right now.
C'mere, hugs!
Raoul:
Say you'll love me every waking moment,
Say you need me with you now and always,
Say you'll shelter me, and shower me with kisses,
Say you'll get me pain au chocolat at 3 AM if I want you to,
Say you'll draw me baths of the finest champagne,
and go to ridiculous lengths to appease me when I become a
cantankerous freak every fourth week of the month.
Raoul,
that's all I ask
of you.
Also do you love me enough to sing real high?
*I* love you enough to sing real high.
Oh, not even my +11 power to make statues float in mid-air
could turn your love to me.
(sobs endlessly: a master class
in terrible acting)
That's it! It's WAR.... AGAIN!
BACK AT THE OPERA, WHERE A MAN HAS DIED IN FRONT OF AN ENTIRE
HOUSE FULL OF PEOPLE BUT THEY'RE GOING TO GO AHEAD WITH A
PERFORMANCE ANYWAY.
Oooohhh---
Look out everyone it's falling!
MOVE OUT OF THE WAY WE'RE LOSING TIME I'M THE LEAD AGAIN
Quick, it's falling entirely of its own accord in a way that
is completely unnatural to the basic laws of physics!
Get out of the way it's SPEEDING TOWARDS US.
SCENE: A FANCY MASQUERADE BALL.
Yeah I'm perfectly fine.
I obviously don't understand what a masquerade is.
FLASH OF MAUVE, SPLASH OF PUCE
FOOL AND KING, GHOUL AND GOOSE
CURL OF LIP, SWIRL OF GOWN
EYE OF GOLD, FACE OF CLOWN
ACE OF BASS, COLDPLAY
PINK FLOYD, JOHNNY RAY
WALTER WINCHELL SOUTH PACIFIC JOE DIMAGGIO.
It's me!
Oh God it's the Phantom! I can tell by his voice, even
though a major plot point will later hinge on not
recognizing his voice!
(not wearing a mask cause he's
a wuss)
He's in plain sight: nobody attempt to kill him.
I wrote you an Opera! I am delivering it in this very
grandiose fashion. Why do you balk at paying me money when I
write Operas for you? A synth-loving monstrosity's gotta
eat, you know.
So in summation: vaguely threatening things! And then--
Oh man, this again.
SCENE: OFFICE OF BOTH OPERA OWNERS.
AGH MORE LETTERS!
WHAT THE HECK. I'm the lead again.
This is asinine, and it's probably your fault, Christine.
The creepy lady in black, however, is entirely uninvolved.
What? There was a guy in a Masque of the Red Death costume
in the last scene! Did you somehow miss that!
I DON'T CARE I'M A PRIMA DONNA HOW DID YOU MISS *THAT*.
What will we do! We are helpless in the face of this ghost!
Who isn't dead!
I just figured out why I'm in this plot!
To round out an thoroughly unexciting love triangle?
No--I'm here to suggest we kill the Phantom!
You're a horrible fiance.
Listen to me--we leave BOX FIVE open for him to sit in, and
we put you onstage as THE BAIT, and then we have dozens of
men aim guns at the stage.
You're a *really* horrible fiance.
Now I'm not the lead anymore? Wow, the casting department
here is terrible.
Christine, darling, dearest, it's not like I don't care, you
don't *have* to be a part of this, but EXTREME PRESSURE.
I refuse to be a part of this.
SCENE: OPERA REHEARSAL, WHERE CHRISTINE IS APPARENTLY PART OF
THIS.
SCENE: LAVISH ELABORATE GRAVEYARD.
Oh Daddy, you sent an angel of music for me, and I appreciate
it and all, but he's really creepy. But also, Hal Prince
tells me I might love him. But also he's creepy! I don't
know. Maybe a very long song in which I explore my feelings
will help.
(singing)
IF I JUST DREAMED
WISHING I COULD HEAR YOUR VOICE
DREAMING OF ALL THAT YOU DREAM
FIGHTING BACK TEARS
TEARS OF DREAMS
GIVE ME THE STRENGTH TO TRY
TO TRY DREAMS
AND WISHING
AND DREAMS MADE OF WISHES.
DREAMS?
WISHES.
(pause)
Nope, didn't help.
Oh Phantom, are you here to get me to love you by bringing my
father back from the dead?
Um, no, for whatever reason I didn't think to acquire that
superpower. So how about instead, you come closer, and I
will hypnotize you with the musical stylings of Andrew Lloyd
Webber...
That's a little presumptuous, don't you think?
Nooooo he's mesmerizing you with another power he just
discovered he had! Snap out of it you freak.
THIS IS WAR! STILL!
I will make my move using +2 Harmless Flares.
You can do what now?
Doesn't really matter, you keep shooting them to the side.
We're in front of you in case you haven't noticed.
Uh, hey, what's that over there on stage left? Maybe you
should go check it out.
Okay I'll go over and--
Wait you just want me to stand where the flares are going!
No, really, I dropped some french money over there, I need
you to get it for me....
Capital F in French, Phantom.
Hey have you considered using your magic Jedi powers to make
your face less vomit-inducing?
You don't understand my powers at all. Plastic surgery is
*nothing* like causing a person to suddenly speak in a
froglike voice; it's *hard*!
Ah, impotent rage!
SCENE: THE OTHER OTHER WORST OPERA THAT YOU HAVE EVER SEEN IN
YOUR LIFE.
Are the doors secure? Is everybody locked in? Are all the
gunmen ready? Can everybody in the opera audience hear me
now as I painfully give away my plan?
If you have any other comments, just keep shouting them
across the boxes during the middle of the performance.
(disguised as the Fat Italian
Stereotype)
I am the ALLURING lover Don Juan, and I am covered head-to
toe in black for some reason.
Which means that I write shows that makes about as much sense
as an Andrew Lloyd Webber Rock Opera.
I have no idea it's you, Phantom, even though you're not fat
at all, and as a singer I should be able to recognize that
your voice is much more breathy and growly and much less fake
Italian-accenty.
Now, it's time to take all those vaguely suggestive metaphors
I've been singing about, and turn them into REALLY DISGUSTING
LITERAL DESCRIPTIONS OF LOVE-MAKING.
I'm going to run away! No wait I'll stay. No I'll run away.
No I'll stay and pull your mask off in front of every rich
person in Paris!
Oh shoot him already for Chrissakes!
What? That's ridicul... WHY DO I NOT CARRY A GUN?
SCENE: IN FRONT OF THE CURTAIN.
Where are we?
we're at the point of the show where we just ran out of
budget for scenery.
with seven minutes left to the show, i should tell you that
the phantom was born a disfigured genius.
So he has the ability to do random acts of pure MAGIC?
selectively. unless you count nooses as magic, then all the
time.
Thanks for the last minute exposition!
what the heck is my point in this musi
SCENE: SPLASH MOUNTAIN
Okay Christine, this is it, our final confrontation! You
have to make up your mind, or else, well, let's say a certain
person has access to flaming bags of dog doody.
(to self)
Gotta keep my hand at eye level,
Gotta keep my hand at eye level,
Gotta keep my hand at eye level,
Gotta...
(waving)
Oh hi Christine! How are AAAGHHHH.
(to CHRISTINE)
He was bound to love you when he heard your voice.
Whereas me, I loved you because you're skinny.
(to RAOUL)
WHY SHOULD I MAKE HER PAY FOR THE SINS THAT ARE YOURS?
What the heck are you talking about, Phants?
Christine: you choose me and he lives! You don't choose me
and I'll push the red button on my modified garage door
opener and he'll hang! Either way I get what I want!
It's all about me! ME ME ME ME ME! EVERYBODY DOES WHATEVER
I SAY!
I don't love you.
Is it because of my face?
(sobs uncontrollably like a
consumptive baby)
Oh Christine, this face which taints our love!
I don't dislike you because of your vomit-inducing face;
I dislike you for whole BUNCHES of reasons!
You sing under pitch.
You cry like a pathetic little emo kid. You killed two
people THAT I KNOW ABOUT. You pretty much have nothing going
for you.
Also have you been using my wax figure....?
Oh man, Raoul's gonna kill me....
NOW GO! GO NOW! BOTH OF YOU TAKE THE AWESOMEBOAT AND GO
NOW! DO IT! DOOOO IT! JUST GO!...
Oh you're both already gone.
Wait!
Nevermind.
Phantom...
No forget it.
Um... I... Er...
OH GOD YOU'RE A CRUEL LITTLE PERSON AREN'T YOU.
I just wanted to see how ugly you were one last time.
Very.
Okay, that's all I had.
Will we ever see each other again?
Oh God I hope not!
Incidentally, in 1907, I will be doing a one-off performance
of a new opera at Coney Island under the suggestion of a
mysterious Maestro. SO DON'T BE THERE, okay?
That seems incredibly improbable. I hope I don't show up.
That would bring the cataclysmic events of 10 years prior at
the Paris Opera crashing back into all of our lives!
You'd think that after going through all this now, I
wouldn't sing for a mysterious anything, nevermind Maestro.
(is really happening, for real,
isn't it.)
(wow.)
I TRIED TO DESTROY TEH SCORE BUTS HE WROTE ANOTHER ONE I DIDZ
THE BEST I COULD... I CAN HAZ CHEEZEBURGER?
It's okay, you're a good pussy.
What?!?
ARE YOU STILL HERE?!?!?!
(sitting on Phantom Throne)
Where's my cuddly blanket. Living in a flume ride sucks.
(to audience)
THIS IS WHAT HE WORE.
LOL! LOL! LOL! That is SOOOOOOOOOOO Funny! I gonna mail it to everybody I know knows about POTO!
ReplyDeletePhantomNeverDies
PS: And for the last time: LOL! :D