The Private Life of Richard Tanu

An office in a London ad agency, two women are in mid-conversation. Andy is very animated, Phoebe is less so.

ANDY: ...so he wants to see the notebook computer...

PHOEB: Who does?

ANDY: The client... what's his name, the inventor, you know.

PHOEB: Oh, him.

ANDY: The client. So, a notebook computer with butterflies flitting about it, you know, soft focus, all that, fields, and this dreamy eyed man, an American, you know, weary in love -- his words, the client's -- writing a letter on this machine, you know...

PHOEB: Typical American Male, to be weary in love. Always too much effort, too much effort into everything. An English male hardly knows what love is, far be it from him to wear himself out with it.

ANDY: As I was saying... so he's writing a letter, we must presume it is a love letter because there's a Beethoven's Pastorale underscore, or like that, and he's teary-eyed and has beautiful brown curly hair, and music swells, swells, and boom, he presses a single stroke command and it prints on his Diconix portable printer...

PHOEB: In the meadow?

ANDY: Batteries, Phoeb, get a life... and the camera zooms in and there's this absolutely stunning cursive script, with tiny nuances and imperfections, just like handwriting, and then we watch him sign it...

PHOEB: For a personal touch.

ANDY: ...he signs it and the printed script matches his own, perfectly! Overlay: "The Personal Touch" --- thanks, Phoeb --- "Your Private Life goes Public with Manuscript"... music fades, butterflies, closeup of big brown eyes with wrinkles at the corners. Weeping world-wide.

PHOEB: It's awful, Andy, mock AT&T. Gawpy and maudlin.

ANDY: That's what he wants, though, or something like it.

PHOEB: Who does?

ANDY: The client... what's his name, Rodrick... you know.

PHOEB: Wait. How do we know he's American?

ANDY: Who?

PHOEB: The man in the ad.

ANDY: He doesn't need to be American, just look like one, you know, American-looking.

PHOEB: No, I don't.

ANDY: Square jaw, stubble, blue-jeans, hairy chest, you know.

PHOEB: And why love-letters? I hate the whole idea.

ANDY: I think it sells... meadows, Beethoven. Where are you today, anyway? Okay, so maybe Ravel, something like Bolero, camera swoops down from the sky at our American Hero at a picnic table, or like that, you know, and he's typing away, lyrical, inspired, flash cuts of gorgeous chestnut-haired Virginia beauty laughing in front of fountain...

PHOEB: A fountain?

ANDY: Fountains are sexual...

PHOEB: Sexual?

ANDY: ... camera keeps swooping... Print!... camera swoops around and we catch a glimpse of this magnificently calligraphed letter, and at first, you know, we say, well, I must have seen it wrong, but on the second pass we see it, and we see him sign it and it all pops, bam! Technology! More flash cuts as he moistens the envelope, chestnut beauty, coy looks, sparkling wine and fire-light, camera swoops up until we see him as just a dot in a gigantic meadow, you know, and the overlay "The Perfect Pen for that Special Letter --- Manuscript"

PHOEB: Is he still weary with love?

ANDY: Not anymore, he's written his letter, it refreshes him.

PHOEB: Can't we put him in an office, at least?

ANDY: Rodrick, or whatever, wants butterflies. An office? Come on, Phoeb...

PHOEB: With butterflies. Okay, an outdoor cafe.

ANDY: And he wants solitude, solitude for days.

PHOEB: A terrifically unpopular outdoor cafe.

ANDY: I'm doing all the work here, you know, you're making me do all the work.

PHOEB: In the Sahara.

ANDY: Okay, not Ravel, Stravinski, throbbing, pulsing rhythms, erratic and sensual... baa, daditat, da, doo, di, daddooodita... you know, he's typing furiously, flash cuts of a Slavic wedding, swirling skirts and crashing glassware, you know, he's sweating, sweat on his brow...

PHOEB: Weary in love...

ANDY: ...losened tie...

PHOEB: We're still in the meadow?

ANDY: Okay, no tie, but his shirt is open, all the way, you know, and his chest is glistening -- that's good -- remember that, and his expression is intense, and print! and the handwriting is just as expressive and implusive and dynamic as the music, and bam! He whips out his fountain pen...

PHOEB: Oh, I got it.

ANDY: ...and like a sword his signs his name, slashing into the paper, dynamic, male, decisive... got what?

PHOEB: About fountains.

ANDY: Overlay: "The Passionate Pen is Tamed at Last, Manuscript!" Sudden, stirring crescendo, camera angles up to the clouds, flash! Out! Black! Single drum beat.

PHOEB: How about crashing glassware?

ANDY: Huh?

PHOEB: Instead of a drum beat.

ANDY: You are less than no help at all. You are a black hole of imagination. What is the matter with you? This is a client for days here, this is a product of our dreams, this is like selling milk in your coffee, what is the difficulty Miss Weary with Love?

PHOEB: It seems silly.

ANDY: What does?

PHOEB: Computerized handwriting. It doesn't stir me. Certainly not with love letters.

ANDY: It's what he wants.

PHOEB: English females, on the other hand... (she drifts off)

ANDY: What? What?

PHOEB: Are -- at least some of them -- perfectly capable of being weary with love, and I for one, having reached that state of perfection, would not be inclined to write love letters, by hand, by machine or otherwise. Having achieved a certain kind of success in business, I am now expected by some in the community to also have a relationship -- preferably a family-oriented one, but definately a sexual one, hence the truncated euphenism "relationship" -- and that regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I resent the pressure, and I certainly am very weary indeed of applying the very same identical pressure at large to the Weeping World, as you so aptly put it.

ANDY: Is something wrong?

PHOEB: I am being followed.

ANDY: Oh, that's lovely, what's his name?

PHOEB: He's American.

ANDY: And weary with effort?

PHOEB: He is. Terrifically.

ANDY: And writing love letters?

PHOEB: Prolifically.

ANDY: By hand?

PHOEB: Who can tell anymore?

ANDY: That's true, deception in love will increase twofold.

PHOEB: That's conservative.

ANDY: But if we don't do the ad someone else will...

PHOEB: ...and love will be trivialized beyond repair.

ANDY: You're so dramatic.

PHOEB: I don't know why this upsets me so.

ANDY: The ad?

PHOEB: The American. Both.

 

Copyright © David Zarko, 1994