Islands of Repair
Scott Klavan and Elizabeth A. Bell in a scene from Islands of Repair
Author: Leslie Bramm
Description: A husband and wife are stranded at sea in a rubber raft. They battle sharks, the elements and each other. How will they survive?
First Produced: 2008
Date Added: 10/24/2011
Content Advisory: Strong language, adult situations
Keywords: Satire/Parody · Death and the Afterlife · Single Set · Characters are Mostly Married/With Families · Surrealism/Absurdism · Small Cast Size
1 Act, 35 Minutes
1 Female, 1 Male
NOTE: Individual script purchases do not include rights/royalties for performances. For performance inquiries, please contact publisher JAC Publishing, P.O. Box 88, Burlington, MA 01803; www.jacpub.com.
Original Production Information
Islands of Repair was originally produced by Emergining Artists Theatre in 2008 with the following cast and credits:
Woman…Elizabeth A. Bell
Director: Melissa Attebery
Excerpt from Islands of Repair
SETTING: A rubber raft. A small suggestion of water surrounds it.
AT RISE: The MAN and WOMAN slap at the water furiously trying to fend off the sharks that have encircled them.
…That’s the problem. Thinking I do know. Deluding myself. Assuming that I understand my life. This is how I survived.
(He thwarts the sharks.)
The Bow, the BOW!...Starboard, starboard now! Over there, over there...They’re everywhere, everywhere!…See, I’m not able to see what’s right in front of me. I never stop to examine or bother to look up. I don’t see through the opaqueness of myself. Worse, I’m not even looking. That’s the problem. I go crashing through life. Blindly blithering through my own little existence. Constantly frustrated, always making mistakes, the same mistakes, over and over again. Bad habits remain bad, good habits turn bad…
(Back to sharks.)
They’ve encircled us!
In short, I don’t get “it”. What ever the “it” is. But now, like the twisted punch line to the bad joke of my life, I feel as if it’s all starting to slowly dawn on me. Now, as I am encased in this all too thin skin. As I wait for the inevitable shredding of my existence, I feel somehow, strangely alive. Truly alive. Truly alive, now as, I’m about to...
Jesus Christ will you STOP! The sharks are feeding off your negative energy! Can’t you just shut up!? Jesus CHRIST!!!
(He begins to regain his senses.)
Oh that’s right. I see. By all means, Blame...It’s what you have to do. Blame a woman’s prerogative, her third eye, her third breast.
You’re the one who insisted on going island hoping. I didn’t take my casino winnings and charter a small, small, boat.
You love to sail. I specifically remember you saying; “I love to sail”.
Did the Captain not say; “Looks like rain, mon, this is hurricane season”?