It’s official, my play, MIRANDA BRANSON BRANSON MIRANDA, will be produced by Necessary Theatre and performed at Walden Theatre May 14 – 16 and 21 – 23.
Five years ago Miranda’s father, the Magician, made her mother disappear…or did he? Now Miranda is haunted by the two women her father sawed in half…nightly…who claim to be her Mother. Her best friend is horning in on her indie rock boyfriend, and the truth won’t set her free.
To reconnect with her mother, Miranda has to travel to Branson, Missouri—the family-friendly Las Vegas: home of Yakov Smirnoff, Shoji Tabuchi, Table Rock Lake, and a gigantic Titanic museum that is a replica of the ill-fated luxury liner. MIRANDA BRANSON BRANSON MIRANDA is a surreal, hilarious comic drama about the perils of growing up, the anxieties of youth, the liberation of leaving home, and what happens when what you find isn’t what you thought it was.
Featuring TNT Artistic Director Tad Chitwood and veterans Cara Hicks, and Hallie Kirk, MIRANDA BRANSON BRANSON MIRANDA also showcases some of Louisville’s up and coming theater artists including Madeline Marchal, Aaron Craker, Jane Mattingly, and Madeleine Miller. The production will be directed by the author. Call (502) 454-4370 for reservations. Please note that credit cards can not be accepted for payment.
Stay tuned for a ticket give away and more info!
Here’s an excpert from the play:
(The Magician’s show.)
Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen. Well, really is there any need to say welcomes? You all know why you’re here. You all know why I’m here. To titillate. To excite. To astound your eyes with wonders heretofore unseen by modern man. That’s right my dutiful spectators, you are here to witness a knowledge passed down to me from the ancients. From the Navajos and Hopi and Nostradamus and Nosfaratu and Eskimos. Parchments from King Tut’s tomb, rocks from the Parthenon. I have seen the Rosetta stone. Stood in concert with the sacred spheres. Yes! I was at the final Jimi Hendrix concert. I witnessed the death of Pope John Paul II. I felt the sands of ancient Persia against my cheeks while tripping balls on mushrooms harvested by Hare Krishnas from the dung of the Sacred Cow. I am, in short, kind of a big deal. And you are lucky to be here.
(The Magician produces a gigantic saw.)
And for my first trick. Aw, who am I kidding? I have been exiled, Ladies and Gentlemen. Not a literal kind of exile but a forced exodus of the spirit. A metaphysical trail of tears. An existential flight out of Egypt. I’ve been abandoned like the baby Moses to live in a wicker basket of my own making though I was a babe and could not weave properly so the whole fucking ship is taking on water and all I have to bail myself out is a couple Dixie cups and those things don’t hold much. My beloved wife. I have no idea where she is. The women I used to cut in half and copulate with on alternate nights in my dressing room have gone to Mexico and my poor daughter is left to me. I am a single parent living on a magician’s wage which is no way to live. I ought to take this saw and cut my own heart out in front of you but the stage crew would have to clean up the blood. Once I was a prince! Now I have been informed that this will be my final show. Management is letting me go. What am I? A trickster. A fool. A hack. Laugh you hyenas. Eat your fucking hearts out.
(A gigantic burst of flame. The Magician is no longer there. Wild clapping.)