 I am an idiot. At least that's what I've been told. So it must be true. I came to the theater a long time ago. I don't remember why. I suppose I loved it even back then. It's hard to imagine. Now, so many years have passed, so many performances, so many curtain calls, so many forgettable reviews. Well, I stand still in the theater, or at least it's so with me. I sit here, or I stand here. I make my exits and entrances. And you come and see. Whatever play I happen to be playing in at that particular time, whatever role. You see me, but you don't know me. So you see me as a collection of roles, good men, bad men, complicated men, men up to their ears in trouble, dramatic conflicts. Well, I play tragedy, and I play comedy. I've often played the buffoon, the butt of all the dope. Well, that's the theater for you. A range of different parts and different characters. But who am I? Yes, who struts and frets upon the stage for his hour, and then is seen no more. Yes, indeed, I am an idiot. I suppose you think I leave here when I'm done with a particular role or a particular show. No, I never leave here. You leave here, yes. You go home to your comfortable homes and your comfortable lives. What do I do? Well, I can't stay here. Right here and I wait for another role, another show, another audience. Because without you I'm nothing. I have no purpose, no existence. I must be seen. I must be heard. So to exist I must be witnessed. Yes, it's sort of like the old Illinois tree falling in the forest. If it falls and there's no one there to hear it, doesn't it make a sound? Well, I know the answer. It doesn't. It just falls like a tree falling in a silent movie. Like that. And I'm like that. If I perform on this stage and you're not here to see me, well, nothing really happens. I might as well not be here. So why did I come to the theater in the first place? That's a very good question. One I don't have a very good answer for, unfortunately. Well, there was something to do and I got sufficient praise for the work I did. It inspired me to come back and try again to be in another show. And then another. And then before I do it, it becomes my life. The only reason to be alive, to be up here and have white lights, my greasy face in that moment of pure hell, pure fear, pure electricity. As I step out on the stage. And so after all these years, I've become a prisoner of the stage. Now I haunt it like a ghost. I cannot leave. Because I don't know what it feels like to want anymore. Incredible, isn't it? Not to know what wanting feels like. No, that's true. I mean, it's all my feelings. This is an inexpressible aching feeling to realize. And to know that extraordinary fear, extraordinary excitement that the actor knows so well. I suppose you think it's easy to be up here talking to you like this. Like, it's just another day at work. Punching the clock, doing what comes naturally. Well, what is it? No, it's work. It's hard work. Learning lines and slaving away at things like character, motivation, addiction, articulation, movement, blocking. Oh, it's awful. So what do I do with my hands? And you know, it's always the same old, same old problems, same old, you know, and you never get used to it. No, because every night is different. Every play is different. Every theater is different. And you, every audience is different, too. I'm always the same. But you're always different. And because you are, well, I must be different, too. That's a hard paradox, eh? I'm not sure I really understand it, even now. But then again, I don't understand anything anymore. Ah, ages withered me, Hanson. Custom has stailed my infinite variety, and I'm not fresh anymore. Not new. But, sir, you know, I do it, though. Or I try to do it. Why? Well, because I'm an idiot. Mr. Horn, your dinner. Ah, my helpers. My keepers. Oh, good day to you. Good evening. Good evening, Mr. Horn. I trust we are well tonight. Oh, well, well, well. Would you like your food and tear by your chair? Oh, that would be very nice. Is there anything else you'd like? No, no. You may go. Very well, Mr. Horn. We'll come back for the dishes when you're done. Ah, very well. A top top for now. Some potatoes? Oh, that's good. A little, uh, beer, perhaps? I can't tell for sure. Oh, Hanson, peas. Oh, I can't stand peas. Oh, but they're good for me. And it's always nice to have your meals provided for you. Yes, yes, yes. Oh, let's see. Where was I now? I keep, I get shocked at you. Oh, oh, yeah, oh, we're acting. I see you there. Oh, I'll forget, sir. I could go on and on about that. That's my favorite subject. Well, my only subject really is this darkened cabin here. You know, I haven't seen the light of day for years now. For all I know, it's always dark out there. The sun never shines. Perhaps the world has been relieved of all its beauty by now. There's no trees anymore. No flowers. Just the vast, purplish gray wasteland out there. But what does that matter to me? I'm an actor. It's always like, you know, it always could be. You know, we can have a set to depict any kind of a scene we want. A z-shore, a garden, a library, a city street, an office. That's all the same to me. And one step is just as real as another. You see, I live in an illusion. An illusion, that's real. I suppose you're wondering what I'm doing sitting out here eating my supper. I suppose it is rather odd, isn't it? But you know, I've been here so long and I've forgotten what looks odd and what looks normal. It all looks normal to me right now. But anyway, while I'm sitting here eating like this, because it says so right in the script. Yeah, I'm nearly doing what's written in the script. Here, here, here. I'll show you. It's right in here. I don't know what it is. What's that thing on there? I think it was maybe page five or so. Oh yes, right here. Yeah, page five. He sits and eats his supper. That's me. That he is me. I'm supposed to eat my supper and so I am. And the very good supper it is too. Oh yum, yum. I wish you could all eat it with me. I wish I could have my two young friends back there to make meals for all of you. We could all have our dinner together. Well, but we can't. You know, first of all, there are far too many of you out there. I don't think they have enough food to go around. The other reason, the other reason is they don't think you exist. They don't see you like I do. They think I'm crazy. And I am in their eyes. Who knows? Maybe in everybody's eyes. Maybe you think I'm crazy too. Well, maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am an idiot. So what's wrong with that? What's wrong with a little idiocy, eh? I mean, you know, a world without idiocy is a world without sanity, too. Why don't I just stop and think about it? I mean, if we were all sane, we wouldn't know what idiocy was. No, we wouldn't, you know, because we're all sane. So I am an idiot and proud of it. What are they doing that? That's not water. That's horse pit. Oh, yes. Let's see. Where was I? Oh, yes, the theater. The theater, yes, acting. I love the theater. Oh, yes. You know, the costumes and the bright lights and hush on opening nights. Oh, what a thrill. What a sensation, yes. I remember a long time ago, a beautiful young actress. She looked radiant in her costume and her makeup. We had a scene together, yes. We made love in the dark. Oh, my goodness. Oh, but there was a time when I was quite dashing, you know. Quite the charm of it. I could take my leading lady in my arms. I could hold her tight, you know, like this, yes. And I could look into her jogging eyes. I could both feel it, you know. Something indescribable going on. It's the lights falling. They play tricks with your imagination. Two kinds of life, you know. Those who try to get a little taste of what it's like to be up on stage, being part of a company. Then there are others who become mesmerized by it, who become a part of it, part of the theater, part of the structure. I suppose you can guess which one I am. I can't let it go, even if I wanted to, which I don't. Why? Well, that's a question that I'm not sure that I want an answer for. So I don't have it. I never have it. What's that? Music? No, that's my other love. Theater and music. They're laying off together, don't they? Yes. Musical theater, opera, you know. I hear things. When the lights are out, I'm in bed. I hear voices. Yes, voices. People calling out to me. Are you ready? Ready? I'm going out. It's Mr. Hall. I hear them. No one else does. No, they think. They think they can become crazy. And I am. I think we've already established that. Crazy as a bed was. But I still hear them. I hear voices. And sometimes music. Hours at a time. Drifting off the rafters of this place. Echoing off the empty seats here. Sometimes I get up. I wander in this place in the dark. Late at night. But no one else is here. Long after the box office is closed. You have all gone home. And then I'll stand here. I sit here and listen. Listen to the nothingness and dream. Mr. Horn, are you finished? Mr. Horn. Mr. Horn, are you asleep? Mr. Horn. What? Oh, it was you. We were wondering if you were done. We'd like to clean up now if it's all right. What? Oh, yes, yes, yes, of course. Let's go right ahead. You have some tea or coffee with your pill? Yeah, all right. Yes, yes, all right. Which is it? Tea or coffee? Tea. Please. Very well. I've forgotten. I don't remember. Let me see. Oh, something about voices and music. Oh, yes. Yes, I hear them. I hear them. Voices and music. Late at night when I'm lying in bed and trying to sleep. They just seem to come out of nowhere. They seem to appear out of the darkness and following them. Of course, that's ridiculous, but I can swear at the time that it was real. Like a voice of someone that I knew long ago, or a snack of some song, a Gilbert and Sullivan or something, I don't know. Has that ever happened to you? Am I mad? And then I just can't seem to get it out of my head. It's like I get stuck in there or something. And then there's another voice and more voices and more music, other music, other tunes, and none of it makes any sense, really. But it's just real enough that it could make sense. It was just a little closer or a little bit clearer. Sometimes it's just too far away. It's all jungle, too many voices all at once. And then the music is most recognizable, but not really. I mean, it's like maybe something that I made up or something that I heard somewhere. Oh, well, what's the use? It's gone now. Use your tea with cream and sugar. No, I don't take sugar. One lump or two? I don't take sugar. And cream? No, I don't want any cream. I'll just pour you a little tiny bit. No, I don't want any. Then you drink that right up and then it will be bedtime, all right? Don't forget your pill. What's the use? What's the blinkin' use? I mean, you can't always get what you want. Isn't that what they say? But still, is it asking too much? I mean, you've got the hand and you must play it. But not to be too picky or too greedy. Still? I mean, still. Is everything all right, Mr. Moore? I thought I heard a noise. Are you all right? You're not drinking your tea. Is it not to your liking? I asked for no sugar and I was given too much. They're there. Now I'm sure that's not your fault. Then I specifically asked for no cream and I was given some. Well, maybe you're right. Now it is time for bed. No, no, no. I just, all I want is a... Yes. What's the harm? Does he want to go to bed? I think so. All right then. We've been late now. I think we can have our tea another time, all right? We draft you in here, isn't it? We'll get you under the nice form covers and then you'll be just fine, won't you? Don't you worry. We'll take good care of you. I'm not crazy, am I? You're the same audience as before, aren't you? I can't always tell for sure. Audiences all look alike, I mean. No offense. I mean, it's just the way it is. It always has been. Well, I mean, you sound different. You laugh at different things, huh? You react differently, but you pretty much look the same, huh? Same heads and same bodies and same programs being insulted in dim light and crossed legs and the same as his, huh? Oh, you know, I'm not supposed to smoke in here. It's against fire regulations, but it's in the script. Yeah, I think it's, what's that? Page, what's it then? Page of ten, huh? Page of eleven, yeah. Oh, yes, oh, yes. Yes, right here. Right here, page eleven. He smokes a cigarette. Well, if it's in the script, you have to do it, don't you? I mean, it would be disrespectful of the script, not to. Yeah, I would feel disingenuous, huh? You know, I used to think that I could manipulate an audience and do anything that I wanted, huh? Well, if I wanted them to laugh, oh, they would laugh, huh? If I wanted them to suck in their breast and whore, well, I could make them do that, huh? Well, let's see if I can still do it. All right, everybody, just laugh. Not so easy, isn't it? And then, why aren't you a gasp? Gasp, everyone. Something horrible has happened on stage. A ghost has appeared. Gasp, gasp, gasp, everyone. You know, I still got it in me. I can still deliver the goods, but, you know, I'm not so sure that I manipulated the audience so much as they manipulated me. What do you mean, you might say? Well, how do I know that the audience didn't just want to laugh right then, so they decided to, huh? And then they manipulated me into doing something that would make them laugh, huh? Because they wanted to, you see, huh? Well, let me give you an example. Every actor has had those moments when the audience just suddenly starts to laugh. Something that the actor didn't even think was funny and wasn't even supposed to be funny, but it was, to them. So what's that all about, eh? You know, wouldn't that happen? It's just like you're in two different places. You know, the audience is in one place and the actor is in another. What? It's just really strange. It's sort of like an out-of-party experience. It's like, it's suddenly way up here and we're looking down and there's not even a part of what's going on on stage anymore. And for just that, that's put second. It's like you're both in and free and observing it at the same time. Oh, yeah. That's very weird, isn't it? Very disconcerting. Very strange, isn't it? Of course there's a lot of strange things in theater. I mean, let's take the opposite phenomenon, the opposite experience, huh? So now you have a line that you don't assert is funny, right? I mean, you've done it a million times and every time you did it, it's gotten a lot. Yeah, in rehearsal and preview and performances. And then there you are. You deliver that line and it's like you have a million times before and a thud. And I'll be even a snicker. I won't talk about that. I'll be damned if I don't. But there you are. It's just like you're there and I'm here. And it's just, again, it's disconcerting. That's weird. But you know, I feel differently tonight. Here with you. I feel like there's a certain rapport going on here. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it. You know, last night when you were here and I was here, it was different. It was like we were just kind of getting to know each other and feeling each other out. But tonight it's more chemistry. More electricity. Oh, yes. I don't know. Where do we go from here? Oh, yes. You know, in the theater we strive for what is getting there. What is the truth? Ah, truth. I should have never gotten started on that one. I love truth. I strive for it, yes. In my art and in my life. Well, maybe not so much in my life. But certainly on stage. Yes, truth, beauty, lights, action. Ah-ha, truth, yes. Oh, you know, there's not nearly enough of it. You know, what passes for truth and tales and comparisons of what it used to be. Now, in my day, I'll tell you. In my day, I begin to sound a little too pompous. That's what one young actor's called me. Too pompous. Oh, I was hurt for a week. Well, maybe she meant it as a compliment. But I didn't come out here to talk to you about all this stuff. No, I wanted to tell you about my past. How I got to the theater, to this great stage here, to these boards, to this proscenium. When I came to the theater, I must be 40 years ago, I guess it wasn't. I was a dent in a store. What time is it anyway? Does anyone know? No. Oh, well, it matters very little. Yeah, time doesn't matter here in the theater. No, it's just another one of those useless work-and-take little concerts that has no place in here. No, because when you're on stage, you've got your own sense, your own concept of the passing of the minutes and hours. Yeah, I mean, you know, whole days to pass in the theater. Whole years. 16 years passed between Act III and Act IV of a winter's tale. 16 whole years, huh? Half a lifetime in those days. 16 years, huh? Yeah, and then that ended in the theater. I mean, time can go a little backwards. You can have flashbacks. Time, within time. Within time, and then there's your own time, too, which you can keep track of with your watch. When it's working. Now, that. Oh, and it just goes on and on the time. I don't know. It's really, really needed in here. Yeah. Oh, I don't know. I wasn't talking about some time. See, you know, I get lost in the inside, in the dark. Oh, time, yeah, time and proof. Oh, beauty. Now, there's something. I've known some actresses in my life. I mean, a picture of beauty. Oh, but I think that means beauty in art. Yes, and since a theater is an art form, beauty in theater. But in theater, really beautiful. I mean, in the usual sense of, you know, like a painting or a sculpture or even a dance. I don't know. I mean, of course, the castings are beautiful. The sets and the makeup, the lighting, but it's theater. Beautiful, huh? Well, I mean, beyond the trapping those theaters, I'd like to call it. I don't know. I'd like to think so. I'd like to think that theater is an aesthetic act. You know, I probably shouldn't do this. I was pressing my luck with the first one. If I was ever to be caught. Oh, why not, huh? Mr. Horn, you know you're not supposed to smoke. I know, I know. I was just lighting it for my friends. Your friend? Yes, please. Where? What friend? Well, for Mr. Horn, I am disappointed in you. You know you're not supposed to smoke, and yet you do it anyway. Can you tell me why? Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to revoke some of your privileges. No, Jim, for you today. You're going to have to stay right here. Hey, Jim. I'd like to sort of be here talking to all of you where I mean, you won't understand. I mean, she was well enough to be her fault at this society. I mean, what can any of us do? Nothing. We can do nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Well, we... Oh, yes, yes, yes. We can do nothing. Nothing. Nothing to be done. I have a paw on this creature. Oh, don't hurt me, Mom. I wish I could take you home with me. Oh, this is my home. Well, you are at home with me right now. Well, in that case, well, but it's cold in here. Yeah, that's the only thing. You would think that they could at least give you a sweater. Why don't you call? Oh, customer! Customer! Would it be too much to ask for a slightly heavier costume here? A vest, maybe? I still have my life. That's my hotspot. That's pleasant. Yeah, very pleasant. Oh, yeah, pleasant. Pleasant, yeah. Pleasant, yeah. Oh, oh, oh, yes, yes, yes. Yeah, anyway, where? Yes. Well, it's a, yeah. Beauty and troops and troops and beauty, is it art? Art and beauty and art. Beauty, art and beauty, beauty and art. What did I get for both? I gave them each a part of my life. What does that leave me? A shallow man. An empty, shallow, washed-up old pheasant who's still treading the boards and learning lines and striving for that mystical truth we all strive for. All of my profession, most of whom are gone now, I'm the only one left that I know of. Well, they've offered me on this stage here forever. And I suppose I could do worse, except that I always feel like I'm under a microscope. I never feel alone here. I mean, you are always here. You can always see me here. That's comforting in a way and frightful. That's the other thing about being an actor. Every move, every hand, every blink of an eye, every scrutinizer, observe. The minute you cross the threshold between backstage and real life out here, it's like you go from one world to another. The world of the invisible, the world of the scene where every warp is exposed and you feel naked and vulnerable. There's no subterfuge here, no shuffling. Oh, I'm quoting again. That's the other thing they say about me, always quoting. Oh, well, you know, it's become a habit. I can't help it, really. It's in my blood. Oh, yes. Art, art, art. Oh, yes. What is the nature of art? Art of nature, I suppose. What's natural and what's artificial? And why is this important? It's a question to be asked in several questions, really. You know, I have always strived for art, for art's sake. Now, in my craft and every play I've taken on and every part that I've rehearsed and performed here on this stage, I have always tried to create the best art that I could think of. Just like the Vigian, it's a palace. Or Michelangelo, it's a chisel and marble. There were no difference. The actor painted. The actor sculpted. Well, I'll accept it in one way. They're dead and I'm still alive. Well, they are dead, but their art still is. Their creations are still out there. But for me to still live, I must come out here every night and continue to act, to make real before you what is lying there and dull and lifeless without my interpretation. Yes. And this script is like the marble, if you will, the blank canvas. I must make of this nothing, something for your enjoyment, for your pleasure. Everything I do is for you. How profound. How insightful. How strange. It's a strange profession. Really? Isn't it? It's here, it's gone. Here, it's gone. I do it, you come and then you go and you come again and then I come again and then we come again and we do it all over. And without you, I am nothing. And without me, you are... Well, what are you? Are you nothing too? I'd like to think so. I'd like to think that I am as important to you as you are to me. But Emma, Emma, I don't really know. But it's a sad thought, really. I think that you are more important to me than I am to you. I love kind of a thing wrong, you know. Wouldn't it? I don't require it, it would be. Yes. I'd like to think that we are important to each other. Yes. I don't require this. I wouldn't want to look at this. I don't require the love, you know. It's a sad thought, yes. It's a sad thought that I need you more than you need me. How sad, how true, true. And sadness. They go together in this business, don't they? How sad and how true. I could use a cigarette. Damn them all. We've got a surprise for you tonight. Fried clams. I hate clams. And there's lemon and tartar sauce and spinach. Enjoy. Actually, I hate all seafood. It doesn't agree with me. I'll get nauseous. And if you need anything else, you just ring that bell, okay? Okay. Plations. I didn't smoke it. Honestly. I didn't smoke it. I don't want to hear it. I don't need you to do that. I still got it, didn't I? To be a force. To be threatening. But I scared him. He's gone. I'll pay for it. What a moment. What a scene. Help you. To serve you. Why would you do something like that? Threaten him with your cane? He was treating me like a baby. Yes, I'm sure you had no cause. No cause. No reason. No excuse, as always. I put you in your room now, do you? To come out here. To have this whole room to yourself. To be fed out here. And then you abuse this privilege by attacking the staff. Mr. Moore, I don't understand you. You know, you could just as easily be fed in the dining room with everybody else. Or confined to your room like the harder cases. This is a privilege coming out here. And such a privilege can just as easily be revoked. Do you understand, Mr. Orr? Do you? I didn't get him. Do you? It's good for you. Black fry clams, spinach, tartar sauce, lemon. I don't like spinach. Onion rings. They don't agree with me. What a treat. I hate it. Not every day we get this kind of treat. Now is it? Yucky. There, you don't need me to feed you, do you? Is there nothing else? Is there nothing else to this existence? You know who I really am. I'm here for you. Every night. The show must go on. Oh, yes. Oh, thank you. Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. Oh, thank you for coming. Oh, no. It was nothing really. I'm afraid I only put on half a performance tonight. Well, I'm feeling a bit out of sorts, you see. Well, but come see me next weekend. Then you'll see a real performance. Tour de force. I must eat something. Thank goodness I lost most of my taste buds years ago. I hate to have to taste that. What is it, back to the theater? You know, the theater, yes. Oh, the theater of allusion. Oh, there's the rub. Allusion. I could talk all night about that. Well, I'll take this situation here. You and I here in this theater. Is it real? Well, of course it's real. I mean, you're here and I'm here. We're here and in this place and this time. Unmistakably. It's completely real, isn't it? Yeah, it is. All right, then that settles it, huh? Well, not completely. Now, a play is not real. It's a representation of what? Well, of reality. So a play is not reality, but what its represents is, right? I suppose so, but what about that reality? Their reality. That witch's reality. Is that reality? No, they don't. They don't think you're real. It's true. So where does that leave you? Well, where does that leave us? Do we have our own separate reality? Our own parallel universe? Well, not possibly, I guess. It's hard to say. Really, it's kind of like the old truly in the forest sort of thing. If I'm not here to see you and feel you, do you exist? To them? No. You did not exist. So maybe that's where I come in. Maybe that's where you need me because I can see you and they can't. And without me you wouldn't exist. Well, that makes me even better. It's nice to be needed. It's been a long time since I've been needed by someone. I mean, really needed. You see, I've been out of practice. I've been off the boards for a while. Oh, just doing this, doing that. Mostly that. Just nonsense things you have to do to survive. But I couldn't get all the good roles. They started going to younger people. Younger blood. But then my chance came. This script. And voila, here I am after this photo. Back by popular demand. So this is my return to the theatre, if you will. Hopefully it's not my swan song. I'd like to think that there are other roles out there for me that I'll have other offers. Maybe someone will see me in this show tonight. Maybe I'll get a good review or something. Maybe another producer or another director. Or maybe one of you out there will see me and won't be in another production. You know, I've got a private experience. I've done tragedy, I've done comedy and everything in between. I have an extensive resume. Many roles, many theatres, many triumphs. I hope there's been charity out there and that people will remember me. Because that's really the only way that I exist. That's the only way. You can't go to a museum to see my work. Or to a library. You can't walk down the street. Be right here, right now in this place. Here in this hall. Don't let them take that away from you. Don't ever let them take that. Remember me. Remember me. I'm getting tired now. I'm worn down by life, by love. By every day's bloody existence, day after day. But here, here with you. My audience, my people. Here I am alive. I exist. I have meaning. There's that music. Lovely, sweet music. Where did these come from? Lovely flowers. Did you see them come? How did they get here? Did they fall onto the rafters? Did you put them here? All of you? Oh, they're lovely, yes. What a stunning bouquet they make. Oh, they're heavenly, yes. Oh, they make me want to sing. To dance. La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. Mr. Horn, it's bedtime. Where on earth did you get those flowers? Did somebody pick them for you? Probably Mrs. Bonham. She's always disappearing into the courtyard and picking seeds. Let me see them. I'll put them in some water. I'm for tea tonight, do we? Oh, you ate none of your food. Tuck, tuck, Mr. Horn. This does you no credit. You're just going to shrivel up if you go on this way. You have to eat something. I've heard for you again tonight, I'm afraid. Well, that's just too bad because there's banana cream pie. I hate bananas. And chocolate moops, I believe. I hate chocolate. And mint ice cream. I hate mint. Yummy, yummy. And ice. Very tasty, I've been told. And cream. Very, very tasty. Must eat something. Fiju, do you like that? Perhaps I shall. We haven't done it in a while, have we? We could try that. Okay? Let me see. All right, what do we have here? All right now, open wide. Here comes the little airplane into the hangar. Look what you've done, you naughty, naughty boy. Pick that up. All right, that is it. That is enough. Go get them. Go, go. Choice. Mr. Horn, you repeatedly disobey the rules. Cigarettes, attacking the orderlies, and now this. Is this what you want? Is this how you want to be from now on? Is this how you want to be remembered? Thank God you're... Chipper. Maybe because they gave me this book. The History of Theatre. I'm very interested in history, and especially theatrical history and how it's changed over the years. You know, the Greeks performed on a bare stage, and sort of like this, not even a chair or a table. Nothing. Just emptiness. And all theatre begins that way. It's an idea, a little seed, a germ. It grows, and it's fleshed out, it blossoms, it puts out shoots, little arguments to the heavens, if you will. The Greeks did that, the Sophocles, the Euryphides, the Escalus, the Aristophanes. And the Romans did that, too. Seneca, Plotus, and all the rest. And then all of them started with just a seed, an idea. Even before that, there was nothing, an emptiness, a vast wasteland of potentiality. And so it is with me, with us, so to speak. We begin with nothing, quite literally, a whole space into which we pour this passion, this intensity, these feelings and emotions, thoughts and dreams. We create out of nothing, drama. And this book here, Chronicles, all of that, all of these dramas that just appeared out of someone's brain. And here they are, all neatly arranged for us, in chronological order. The Greeks, the Romans, the Renaissance, the Elizabethans. Right up to modern times. Right up to all times. This is one of them. This began with nothing. There it is, the black pages. Now it's thoughts and ideas. Proposals and arguments. You know, I've done some big plays here. I was, oh, I was Creole, Antigone by soccer, please. I was in the birds once, a strange play in the birds. That's a marvelous, marvelous play. Oh, and of course I've done Shakespeare, Marlowe, Johnson, on and on. But what's it all mean? What's it all come down to? That's what others have to know. I mean, they must have had something in mind that they would have written all that. Something just to make money or to survive. Well, possibly, but I'd be willing to speculate that in every instance in this volume here it became something else and something more meaningful, something more profound. They knew they were on something. Something important. They wanted to reach out. They wanted to connect with their fellow men, I think. Yes, to reach out to them, to communicate. And in some instances, in the best instances, they wanted to change them, to affect them, to move them. Well, just as I, a four player, hoping to do so now, it's that reaching out into the darkness and then the feebly grasping for something, anything, another hand, another mind, another body. That's what it's all about. I think so. I know so. Why else would they have done it? Why else do we still do it? There's this shadow boxing here, this lighting in the darkness, this illumination. And then why do you do it? Why do you come out of your house in the night to watch me here? What is it about it? I mean, what's enjoyable? What's interesting? What's worthwhile? I mean, I don't know. Because despite years and years of acting, I still don't know why I do it, why I come out here like this. I mean, is it just a vanity or a pride or a fear, insanity, idiocy, all of the above? It's all a mystery to me. Yeah. I'd like to know. I want to know. I'm afraid you won't help me. Will you? I'll have to figure it out for myself. This is my tragedy here. People are tragedy. All of us. You know, we can't really know why we're here, why we keep endlessly revisiting these places we've been before for generations, for eons. It's something I'll tell you. It'll be there. That's it. I don't know. It's a play I've never done. Yeah. A school for scandal, by a sheriff. And months in the country. Yeah, I've seen that once. Very good, as I recall. All arguments, ideas, seeds, germs. What was I talking about? Something profound, no doubt. That music again. And how are we today? Are we feeling better? Did we get a good night's sleep? You seemed a bit tired. Would you like some tea? Chocolate biscuit, perhaps? In case you've forgotten, tonight is bingo night. It starts in ten minutes in the common room. You know, you haven't been in a while. The others are beginning to ask for you. Mrs. Bonham. Mrs. Carter. Mr. Garrick. Mr. Key. They miss you. You sure you don't want to go? Well, suit yourself. Don't say I didn't try. Bingo. What boss? N41. G59. 55. Who cares? See, they don't know you're here. I'm not actually alone. They think I'm all alone here. I've got you. I've got you and you've got me. And if I were to leave here right now and go pay bingo with the rest of them, where would you be? You'd be gone. You'd just get up to leave. There'd be nothing going on here. Then I'd lose you. I wouldn't like that. Because then I'd have nothing. Nothing to live for. B15. O62. G48. Don't leave me, will you? Don't ever leave me. And I won't leave you. No, never. That's why I must stay here. Always. So you won't leave me. Oh, where was I? Oh, theater, theater, theater. Oh, history. History, history, theater. I think it's history, history. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Where was I? Oh, history, the history of theater. And the theater of history, I suppose. Isn't history itself rather theatrical? I mean, they talk about things. The theater of war, they say. Stages of development. Acts. Scenes. Intermissions. Here and there. And then history lends itself to, well, to theatrical interpretation. And that's why there's plenty of it about real life and history of the world. World events. And, you know, along the little private histories of the theater of theater. History of the world. World events. And, you know, along the little private histories as well. I mean, life is a drama, like a play. I mean, there are, you know, there are acts. And scenes. Divisions. Prices. Catastrophes. Convinces. Endings and resolutions. And, of course, every life has a beginning and a middle and an end. And what more can be said about it? A great deal, apparently. Yeah. Yeah. This volume here is a great deal about it all. Oh, yes. And now I'm suddenly sad. Why? Well, because there are just scores and scores of plays. I've never been in. I've never even read. And I call myself an actor. Well, these are apparently some of the most important dramas ever written. And I haven't even read some of them. Oh, what a disaster. What a calamity. I shall hurry up and read them now. Well, I still have time. Oh, but then I wouldn't be able to be here talking with you, would I? No, because, you know, I don't want to lose you. I want to keep your attention. You might just leave me here. I wouldn't like that at all, no. Well, you know, I guess I'll just have to settle for this one. Oh, what is it? The Idiot's Tale. What a strange title. That's a strange play, don't you think? Oh, but then you've probably never read it, have you? I don't think it's well-known. No, it's... Well, I shouldn't be. I mean, it's just some hack, right? I know, buddy. But it appealed to me. You know, I read it, and then I wanted to perform it. Because it called out to me. It said, horn, get up there and act me now. So, here I am in creation of this play. I'm reading this play, and I'm acting it, too. And so I'll do it again and again and again. Well, because I must. I mean, this was written for me to perform night after night. So I must perform it. I must interpret it. Or else it dies. It becomes rubbish, trash. It gets thrown out. No, you know, play is meant to be performed. Not to gather dust or to grow moldy. It should be a living, breathing piece of work. And so, you know, I'm trying to do it justice in my own pathetic way. And, well, why did you like it? Because it seemed to be about me and about my life in the theatre. And, you know, it raised questions and issues that I grappled with myself, unconsciously, without thinking too much about it. You know, it seemed to me like it has, you know, some potentials and real possibilities. You know, some ideas, some options. I don't know where I'm going. I don't have any idea. You know, let me, I gotta say it. You know, I can stop that, honestly. It's not so easy remembering these lines anymore. It doesn't come naturally like they used to. Let's see. They must be back in there somewhere. Oh, let's see. Oh, well, we're on page 23. We're already at page 23. We're making good time then. Yes, let me see. But it seemed real relevant, alive with possibilities. Oh, I think that's what I was supposed to say. I don't know what the hell it was all about, but I guess I was supposed to say it. It called out to me. It said, horn, get up here and act me now. That makes no sense. Come on, come on. That's too far back. That's where the witch came in, I think. Let's see. Oh, yes, theater. Theater of history, I suppose. Hell, I suppose that was what. That's pretty lame. It's even the right script. It doesn't sound right. I don't know, I guess it is. You know, there are just pages and pages that just rubbish here. It's just pure drill. It's nonsense. What poppycock does it? You know, I might just as well have been talking gibberish. Oh, that gives me an idea. Why don't I just try that and see if it makes any difference here. Yeah. Good black and blue, I suppose. Roughly bottomed down there, I suppose, too late. Both sharp and ugly, both stupid and stupid. Yeah, well, I'm better off. Oh, well, I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. Black, too can do the lady. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. I'm better off. If you want to make a fool of yourself, you can do it in your own room, on your own time, not out here in the public space. Maybe it's time. I was frustrated, I guess. I mean, the script just didn't make any sense. There was no dialogue. No sense. I couldn't handle that nonsense, and so I just... I just lost it. I mean, that's all. You know, I mean, as an actor, I rely on a playwright to at least make sense. I have a recognizable through line. At least I'm beginning a middle of the man, not this gobbledy goof like that. Well, playwrights should make sense, don't you think? I mean, there should be recognizable situations, people doing things, making rational decisions, or at least the subtext should be clear. I mean, what people are thinking, what's going on in the character's minds. Am I right? Am I right or is this crazy? Is this an outdated concept that a play should be transparent in some way? What is it that I'm trying to say? I mean, we here, you know, you come to the theater to see a story, right? You want to see people doing things? And then, you know, not just gibberish, not that, I mean, you know, in the old days, I mean, in my mind, there was a story, there were people doing things relating to one another. I mean, there was love and hate and machinations. You know, irony and plot development, I mean, there was things that literally kept you on the edge of your seat. But no, of course, not anymore. No, no, no, no. I mean, today, when you go to the theater, you might see anything. I mean, quite literally, anything. You know, people are taking off their clothes. I'll do a keyway. You know, people are doing the performance art, whatever the hell happened. You know, there was just no verisimitude anymore. Not even any attempt at it. You know, the theater is just dead. Or at least die. No, but not here, right? No, yeah, yeah, it's still alive. You and I, yes. We are the keepers of the flame, aren't we? Yes, you know, we here, you know, single-handedly we are keeping the spirits of Shakespeare alive. Yes, yes, and it's in the mode, yeah, and all the rest. You do believe in me, don't you? You do agree with me. What's important, what's real, well, there's real anymore. I'd like to know. Well, I used to know. At least I thought I knew. But now it seems to be clouded, you know. Be clouded. Is that even a word? Be clouded? Well, it is now. I'd just said it. So it must be real. Oh, you know, it's all so fleeting, isn't it? Yeah, out of the theater, I mean, or do I mean life? Well, both, really. You and I here, you there, we here, us here, in this cavern, this empty space, this cave. Oh, I'm glad to begin on that. But, you know, I hate to admit it. Me, who has always been so erotic, I guess, so real, so always striving, striving for the truth, the elusive truth. I don't even know what's making sense anymore and what's not. I suppose it's in the nature of this gang, this medium here, this genre. You know, that's why there's never any dialogue about this sort of thing. I come here, I do my thing, and you sit there, or wrapped, or maybe not, maybe bored. Maybe you just sit there with a sense of obligation, because if you did decide to leave, in the middle of a performance, well, you create quite a ruckus in this quiet little theater here. Yeah, I want to say that's not what you would just sing at home, watching the TV, where you could just switch off, or even in a movie theater, where if you did get up and leave, you wouldn't offend the actors, because they're not even there, they're not in front of you in real life, like here in the theater, so you sit there quietly, impatiently, and wait for the appropriate moment when the show is overdone, finished. And what I mean to say is, I mean, you come here, I do my thing, then it's over. You clap, perhaps, politely, perhaps not, and then you leave. It's over. And so I never get to know what you're really thinking about, what you really think of my performance. No, I mean, well, I might get the odd review, perhaps, if I'm lucky, if they even bother to show up, but even then, that's only one person to fit in, and I don't care about them, I care about you, and what you think. You know, that's the tragedy of the stage. That's the real tragedy. One never knows. I mean, because the only way you can really know is just right in the performance itself, in the listening, in the observing, and in the projecting, and yeah, it's just all right there in the moment. Because everything else is untrustworthy. It's be clouded. There's that word again. Be clouded by time and by distance, by any number of distracting thoughts. And so if I run into you on the street or in a restaurant, or maybe at a party, and you say, oh, yes, you did such a fine job the other night and such and such. How do I know that your judgment, your opinion isn't to be clouded by something else, by maybe a remark you overheard or a review you read, or something that worked, or alcohol, or anything. The real tragedy of the theater is not what's going on with the character on stage, but with the actor himself and the illusionist of the illusion. And the never to be able to achieve what is being strived for. What has been strived for ever since primitive man attempted for the first time in front of a flickering flame in a dark cave some thousands and thousands and years ago of representation of something through the process of performance. And what is that? What is being strived for? The truth? I believe so. I believe it is. And the final tragedy is never being able to achieve the truth through an essentially untruthful medium. How profound. How tragic. Mr. Horn, it's time. It's time. We must be going now. Going? Where? Don't you remember? We have been over and over this. Look, you're being transferred to a more secure facility where they can handle you. Where they'll take better care of you. All right? Look, I'm sure you'll like it there. I mean, they have a little room for you. Nice bed. They have a very well trained staff who will be able to keep a much better eye on you. You'll be more confined, okay? So you won't get so out of control. So you won't get so confused, okay? And be moved around all the time which is very confusing for the staff. And for you too, I'm sure. It will be calmer there. More peaceful. Hopefully. You'll be happier there. I hope. They know how to deal with you there, okay? They understand people like you. They are trained professionals. Do you see? Do you understand what I'm talking about? Are you ready now, Mr. Horn? Tomorrow. Tomorrow? And tomorrow will anything be different, Mr. Horn? No, not tomorrow. Not tomorrow. Today, now, this moment, okay? We have all your things packed. It's time to go now. What about them, Mr. Horn? I hate to have to tell you this, but there is nobody out there, okay? I mean, it's just a blank wall on all sides. There is no audience. It's all in your mind. Don't you see? It's all in your imagination. You made them up. You're not on stage anymore, Mr. Horn. You're in a nursing facility, and you're being transferred to a more secure facility for your own good. You understand what I'm talking about. Do you? Goodbye. I'm sorry. I didn't think this would end. I thought we had more time together. I didn't realize this was the last act and the last thing. I won't be back anymore. This is really it. Can I take a bow? Right, but be quick about it. They're waiting. This is it. The final curtain. The final bow. There'll be no on-course this time. And no going round to the dressing room afterwards. Either, I'm afraid. I must make a hasty exit. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed this. You and I. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. The performance of a lifetime here with you is one last time. I want it to last forever, but nothing does. One last word of advice for all you young people out there who might be thinking about acting, considering a career on stage. It's an honorable profession. A fulfilling profession. It's a good use of your time. So don't give up. Don't get discouraged. Just keep plugging away and striving for what was I going to say? Wash. It's getting dizzy. You know, you're going around like a whirligig. I'm getting dizzy. Maybe I better just sit down. Oh my God, Mr. Horde! Mr. Horde? Help me! No, just keep him vertical. Remember. Oh, I should remember. What was I going to say? Mr. Horde! Calm down! We're going to take good care of you. Just settle down. It's okay. Alright, Mr. Horde. Alright. What are you doing? What is it? Oh, what's it do? Goodbye! I'll let you know that Mr. Horde has been transferred to a more intensive care facility in a real hospital. He was just starting to go out of control to lose it. Now, I'm sorry. I know that you like coming here. Well, being here with him, and that he enjoyed it too, just that, well, we really didn't have any choice. He was just becoming too unpredictable, too out of control, and, well, sometimes downright crazy. Of course, I mean, he is crazy. Well, I hope we knew that. I mean, you did know that, didn't you? That this is a facility for people like him? Well, of course he did. What am I talking to, a bunch of children? No, I'm sorry. I just, I guess so used to talking to the inmates. Ah, patients. Who? Well, sometimes. Like Mr. Horn. A nice man, and all. Or, well, at least so I've been told. He has family that comes to visit him here. Son, a daughter. They talk glowingly of him in his past life. Well, before you came here, I found the stage meant so much to him. He was an actor when he was younger. But I mean, I'm sure you knew that. I mean, even if you knew nothing else about him, I'm sure you knew that. What's this? Looks like a play that he was writing. Idiot's Tale by Lester Horn. Yep, that's him. Huh, I didn't know it was a playwright. You know, I should probably hold on to this. His family might want to see it. You know, wonder if you finished it. Yep, the end it says. Huh, must be finished. I wonder what's about. I can't really say. It's one big monologue, mostly. Oh, with a few little scenes with others. The Idiot's Tale. It doesn't sound much like a title of a play. It sounds more like a book. A novel, maybe. Isn't there a book called The Idiot out there? Yeah. Well, I'll buy some Russian guy, I think. Well, maybe there's a connection. Maybe it's a retelling of The Idiot. I can't really say. Nothing, just cleaning up. I thought I heard voices. Where are you talking? Talking? Well, you know how Mr. Horn used to come here and talk to the walls and pretend they were his audience? Yeah. Well, I'm not being here anymore, so I thought I'd, well, talk to his audience. Kind of say goodbye. You're not crazy, too, are you? No, nothing like that. Just a little bit of fancy, that's all. You're a frustrated actor or something? A little me? No, I mean, I've never really given it much thought. What about you? Me? Yeah, you ever fancied yourself an actress? Me? No way, I'd be scared shitless to get up on stage. Why? I mean, you sort of perform every day, don't you? What do you mean? For your job, you have to perform for the residents, the patients. That's different. Well, is it? I mean, I don't have to learn lines or anything. I mean, that just makes it harder, then. What do you mean? Well, I mean, there's no script to go by, so you just kind of have to make it up as you go along. I suppose, but isn't that kind of like life? I mean, you run into somebody, you got to make up something to say. Sure, but I mean, that doesn't make it any less of a performance, does it? You're weird. Oh, whatever. What is this? It's a play that he was writing, Mr. Horn. I didn't know it was a play, right? Yeah, I mean, what should we do with it? I don't know, but it's an idiot's tale, and I don't suppose it really means very much, does it? So I guess it doesn't really matter. Really? What? You're just going to throw it out, just like that? Well, he left it here, didn't he? He abandoned it, he obviously didn't want it. Yeah, but aren't you at least a little bit curious about what he wrote? Are you kidding? A tale told by an idiot? Come on, I got work to do.