Amour

AmourMusic: Michel LegrandLyrics: Didier van Cauwelaert, Jeremy SamsBook: Didier van Cauwelaert, Jeremy SamsPremiere: Sunday, October 20, 2002--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. OVERTURE

Paris, Montmartre.Just after the second world war.

2. OFFICE LIFE

The Ministry of Post. DUSOLEIL, a minor civil servant, types while his four colleagues sing of the joys of their existence.

EMPLOYEESOh, life is thoroughly delightful,Stuck in the office all day long.

BERTRAND/CHARLESYou might expect it to be frightful,

CLAIRE/MADELEINEBut on the whole you would be wrong.

EMPLOYEESOh, what a lovely sense of freedom

BERTRANDHundreds of letters flooding in.

BERTRAND/CHARLESNobody ever gets to read emThey go directly in the bin,

EMPLOYEESYes, in the bin.So life is marvelously simply.No intervention from the boss.

CLAIREAm I developing a pimple?

BERTRAND (looks at his newspaper)Im stuck on 25 across.

EMPLOYEESThats what we do and who can blame us?Thats how we make it through the day.Still someone manages to shame us.Whos always scribbling away?Its Dusoleil.

CLAIRE/MADELEINEWhile were relaxing, what does he do?

BERTRAND/CHARLESWorks through his lunch break and his tea.

CLAIRE/BERTRANDHes doing twice as much as we do.

EMPLOYEESBoy, hes a busy little bee.

BERTRAND/CHARLESOh, it is clear

EMPLOYEESThat we dislike him.Strangely he never says a word.

CLAIRE/MADELEINEDifficult not to want to strike him.

BRETRAND/CHARLESWell, what the hell, hes just a nerd

EMPLOYEESThe office nerd.

DUSOLEIL (typing)Dear Mama, its been ages since I dropped a line to you.I wrote you on Wednesday and I know today is FridayBut the office has been crazy, with a thousand things to do.So everythings been busy and my head is going dizzy,Im as jumpy as a monkey in a zooBut though its nearly 5 oclock and I have found the time to write to you,Its really yours sincerely whos been doing all the work.As usual the others have been driving me berserkBy shirking, not working.Their dedications minimal, theyre criminally slowAnd counting off the minutes till its time for them to go.

BERTRANDIts two minutes to five!

DUSOLEIL The reason its so busy here is simple to relate:You know Monsieur Lacrosse, the man whos always been the boss,Well, he is leaving here today as he is over 68.Hes like a mad professor and Im hoping his successor is a little more severe and less sedate.And apropos the other questions that you asked about my life:Yes, my cat is doing fine, and no, I havent found a wife.You ask me if Im seeing someone, in a sense I amIm gazing in wonderAt someone unattainable whom I dont even know.Ive seen her in the square but never dare to say hello.With filial devotion, your son Marcel Dusoleil.Dated 1950 on the 25th of May.

The clock strikes five. The EMPLOYEES rush off.

3. GOING HOME ALONE

DUSOLEILWhen you go home alone,Theres no-one there to phone,No need for, Darling, Im afraidThat I might be delayed.So if you miss your trainOr get caught in the rain,Theres no one there whod dare complain.And its not that Ive not got things to do:Ill read a book or two,Ill feed my cat or make a stewAnd as the lights dim over Sacre Coeur,Ill search for her, the lovely Isabelle.I always know shes thereBecause theres magic in the air.

DUSOLEIL spots ISABELLE, but retreats, too timid to approach her. She sits, leafing through a movie magazine.

4. OTHER PEOPLES STORIES

ISABELLEOther peoples stories,Other peoples lives,Socialites and film stars,Cheating on their wives.Debutants in ball gowns,Young and fancy free,People on adventures.Not meOther peoples intrigue,Other peoples sin.Why does David NivenLive with Errol Flynn?Other peoples secretsBursting to be told,Hotbeds of excitement.Mines cold.

Jean Cocteau and Jean MaraisHave fallen out with Charles Trenet.Frank Sinatras in MontmartreIn a silver Chevrolet...And where is Greta Garbo?And who is Howard Hughes?Its other peoples storiesAnd other peoples news.You wont find my storyIn a magazine.A young girl from a conventAll of seventeen.Then she had a suitor.His beard was turning gray.Imagine her reaction dismay.

Mother said Be grateful.Youre not to make a fuss.Love will happen later,Thats how it was for us.Mother said, Hes wealthy,Be gad of what you get.Love will happen later?Not yet

Other peoples secrets,Bursting to be known.My mysterious husbandHas secrets of his own.Me, I have my daydreamsUntil they all come trueOther peoples stories will do.

DUSOLEIL watches her go.

5. THE STREET VENDORS WALTZ

PAINTER, NEWSVENDOR & WHOREOh, if you go to the Rue St. VincentIn the 18th Arrondissement,We are the people youre likely to meet.We like to work the street.

PAINTERIll paint you beautiful views,Garish concoctions of yellows and blues.

NEWSVENDORI sell the news.

WHOREIve particular favors to sell,My clienteleAll know me wellAnd I can boast Im the toast of Montmartre.Ive been with Jean Paul Sartre!

ALL THREESo if you go to the Rue St. VincentIn the 18th Arrondissement,We are the people youre likely to meet.We like to work the street.

This is the chorus were forced to repeatAll about life here on the street.

WHOREIts tough on the back

PAINTERAnd the brush

NEWSVENDORAnd the feet.

ALL THREEBut everyone has to eat.

Two POLICEMEN take rent from the vendors and hand it to the PROSECUTOR.

POLICEMAN 1Evry day from ten oclock till luncheonI swing my truncheon,I sorta swagger past the citizensAnd offer them continuing protection

POLICEMAN 2Which on reflection they are all delighted to accept from us.

BOTHThen we can save them the time by collecting all their rent

PROSECUTOR and 25 percent goes to me and my Well, I wouldnt like to call them henchmen,Theyre honest FrenchmenWho know their duty and the fact that Im the prosecutor genral and bailiff,Youll die in jail if you dare to dare to disagree.

DUSOLEIL observes ISABELLE watering flowers on her balcony.

ISABELLEI wonder whyI keep killing all my flowersThough I water them for hours,Still they somehow seem to languish and die.And my pastries always burn.All my enterprises turn into disaster.I try my best, but its always my worst.I fed our goldfish so often they burst.Try as I may, all my tulips seem to droopAnd this pool of yellow gloopIs the remnants of a lemon souffl.While Im trying to be a wife,I can feel my life is drizzling away.

Each person repeats their own refrain.

ALLSo if you go to the Rue St. VincentIn the 18th Arrondissement,We are the people youre likely to meetOn the Rue St. Vincent forever.

6. DUSOLEIL WALKS THROUGH THE WALL

DUSOLEILThis journey home aloneIs all Ive ever known,Another evening on my-

As he reaches his landing, the lights go out.

The powers gone out.Oh, what a bore.Just when Im standing here by my door.How can I cook, read a book, take a showerWhen the powers-that-beKeep on cutting the power?Ive dropped my key.Ah, wish I could see.Stuck on the landing dying to pee.Saving on light,Fine, but not every nightThis peculiar tingling,I dont feel quite right

The light comes back on.

Now theyre back on,Typical that.Now where have my keys got to?

He notices he is inside his apartment.

Im in my flat.Wasnt I just outside my door?How can I trust my senses

The light goes off again.

I cant see any more.I need a match.I need a light.

He notices hes outside again.

Is that right?How about that?This is my mat,The one on my floorOutside my door.

The light comes on again. DUSOLEILs leg is not visible.

The door is still shutAnd Im out in the hall.Oh my god, wheres my leg?Its gone right through the wall!

Its home for tea just before me.If theres no wall here,Then whats this that I see?

He steps completely out of the wall

Is it my brain?Am I insane?This is a wall but not a wall at all.

God, what is this neurosis?Some terrible psychosis?I need a diagnosis,Gotta find out what the doctor thinks.Yes, Ill go make an appointment.He might give me an ointmentOr put me on some pillsWhichll cure my oh,Its all my imagination,All total aberration,No need for medication.Still its better to be sure.Ill go and see the doctor now,Maybe he can help somehow.Hes around the cornerSo Ill ring the bell and walk straight through the doorThings are getting serious!Im totally delirious!Id definitely better get my head examined now!

We are now in the shabby office of a local DOCTOR.

7. THE DOCTOR

DOCTORI am Dr. Roquefort,Doing my best to earn my keep.Thanks to dubious dealings during the war,Im illegal, and thats whyIm cheap.

DUSOLEIL enters the DOCTORs office through the wall.

DOCTORGod! A patient!

DUSOLEILYoure surprised seeing a patient walk through a wall?

DOCTORNo, the surprise is seeing a patient at all!

DUSOLEILWhat is happening to me?What is happening to me?

DOCTORGo and stand over there.Raise your arm in the air.God, its trembling like mine.Mind you, mines due to wine.Stand up straight.Count to four.

DUSOLEIL1, 2, 3

DOCTORThats great, now lie down on the floor.Thats surprising, cause youShould be falling right throughAnd its odd that youre not,But its clear what youve gotSo Ill briefly tell you whats what.

Youve got Proto-para-psycho-neuro-glandular-depressive-schizoform-espresso-semi-dormant-pathological-repressed-transmural syndrome.And I know what to do.(handing him a bottle of pills)Take a couple of these.They should cure your disease.They should harden your blood and your sinew,But if you continue to suffer, then come and visit me pleaseI can also prescribeSomething you can imbibe.Anybody who drinksSaves fortune on shrinks.When Im treating the blues,I use what we doctors call booze.Youve got a case of

DOCTOR/DUSOLEILProto-para-psycho-neuro-glandular-depressive-schizoform-espresso-semi-dormant-pathological-repressed-transmural syndrome.

DOCTORIve got a case of wineShould a headache ensue,Drink a liter or two.After that youll feel fine. (Exits)

DUSOLEIL is alone in the street. He turns to the audience and tips his hat, shyly.

8. AN ORDINARY GUY

DUSOLEILI dont deserve your attention.Im hardly worthy of mention.Ive got a job and a pension.Nothing remarkable,Nothing strange very strange.I got to work on a MondayAnd to the park on a Sunday,Never suspecting that one dayMy life would suddenly change.

Im just the guy living down the hall,A normal, ordinary Joe, thats allWhod never dream of walking through a wall at all.Its all beyond comprehension.Why me? A slave to conventionWithout an ounce o pretension.So earthly reason why anyone should care.You might have walked by me on the stairAnd not have noticed that I was there,But now my boundaries have turned to air.I was a monk in a cloister,But now my world is my oyster.If I can walk through the door,Then lifes not dull anymore

Now I can wander the world,Why should I squander my life behind closed doors,When I can take a look at yours!?But where on earth would that get me?It might scare me, it might upset me.

Still lifes acquired a dimensionThats quite beyond comprehension.Was this divine intervention?(He puts the pills in his pocket.)I wont need these anymore.I wonder what its all for?Whats it for?

The office. The new BOSS is examining a piece of paper.

9. DUSOLEILS REVENGE

BOSSDusoleil! Come in here!Whats this sentimental nonsenseWhich has landed on my desk?Tear it up straight away.

DUSOLEILIts a letter to my mother.

BOSSTo your mother?Youre grotesque!Why to her?

DUSOLEILIm her son

BOSSIf we compromise on discipline,theres very little left.

DUSOLEILBut my work had been done.

BOSSWriting letters in official time is tantamount to theft.You beware,Yes, you beware unless you want to get the sack

DUSOLEILNow that isnt fair.

BOSSAnd if you dare to answer backThen you may find that this epistleIs the cause of your dismissalIf youre obstinate, recalcitrant and slack.(BOSS chases DUSOLEIL back to his desk.)Back to work.Dont forget that youre a clerkWhos paid to work in office time.You are a jerk, youre an amoeba, you are a slime.You make me sick.You and your cat can go to hell,I hope she gets mange,I hope your mother does as well.Oh, its really yours sincerely whos been doing all the work,As usual the others have been yada yada yada.If the world behaved like you, wed all be writing to our mothersAnd then criticizing others, so Im giving you a confidential tip:Dont behave like a drip.(BOSS exits to his office.)

DUSOLEILLike a drip? Like a drip?!How dare you come in here and cast aspersions on my mother and my cat.Heres my reply:(stuck his head through BOSS wall)that youre a peasant and I hope you die!(runs back to his desk and types) and both were sent in triplicate and thenAttached to copies of your previous correspondence then for accuracys sake

BOSS (runs to DUSOLEIL)Du-Du-Du Dusoleil!But your head was po-, po-, poking through the wallAnd then it spoke.Yes, I swear it was there.

DUSOLEILSorry sir, I dont quite get the joke.

BOSSNo, nor do I. Ill say goodbye.(exits)

DUSOLEILThat I have to inform you that your letter has been lost since it was sent to our department by mistake(sticks his head through the wall)Surprise surprise!What do you know?I am the Wallman come to say hello!(he goes back to his typing)It had been shredded on the seventh floorAnd pulped on the eleventh floorAnd later used to fertilize the flowers on the roof

BOSS(enters)Du-Du-Du Du-Du-DuYoure still typing over here and yet your head was over there.

DUSOLEILOver where?

BOSSOn the wall.

DUSOLEILNo no no Ive just been sitting here,I havent moved at allFrom my chair since ten to three.

BOOSIt cant be him.It must be me.(exits)

DUSOLEIL sticks his head through the wall again.

DUSOLEILDoo-doo-doo-doo!Looking at you!I am the beast of Section 22.Boo!

BOSS takes out a rifle and then assembles it.

BOSSBut Im your brand new bossAnd I will and I will and I willNot let myself be flustered.A boss must be the bossAnd hes got, and hes got, and hes gotHes got to cut the mustard.(enters EMPLOYEES area brandishing rifle)And Im supposed to be the pillarOf the Ministry of Post,So I cannot believe in visionsAnd I wont believe in ghosts.Im sure I cant be drunkBecause I never drink a drop.So if some bastards playing tricks on meTheyd damn well better stop.Its all a communist conspiracy.Its a plot, its a plotIts a plot to make me look a moron.Im not a man to cross!So from now, so from now, so from now,So from now on theres a war on!

DUSOLEIL tells returning EMPLOYEES that the BOSS has gone crazy. They attack the BOSS.

EMPLOYEESWell show him who is boss.It is time, it is time, it is time,Its time that we got tougher.

BOSSIf they dont know whos boss,Then the count-, then the count-, then the count-,Then the countrys going to suffer!

EMPLOYEESOur poor old brand new boss!But it does-, but it does-, but it does-But it doesnt really matter cause we dont give a tossThat hes mad, that hes mad, that hes mad,That hes madder than a hatter.A hatter!

They overpower BOSS and exit with him. Back at the square ISABELLE sits alone on her balcony.

10. SOMEBODY

ISABELLEIts the time of day when the world is grey,I am waiting, waiting for somebody.And I search the skies with my aching eyesFor my special someone, my somebody.Tho I know its wrong, all my senses longFor the man whos strong and can comfort me.

And oh, how I long for him to hold me.My somebody will truly know me.Hell take me in his arms andShow me how my lonely life can changeInto something strange and splendidAnd then well fly away forever,At least until my dream has ended ended

And I scan the square and theres no-one there,I mean no one there who is there for me.And the night draws on and my husbands goneBut I dont expect him to care for me.But at least I know when the world is grey,If I dream my dreams,I can face the day.And its easy to face in the warm embraceOf my perfect fantasySomebody

ISABELLE withdraws. The PROSECUTOR emerges from under her balcony.

11. PROSECUTORS SONG

PROSECUTORI always bolt the door in case she flies the coop.You see, Im not a total nincompoop.She is 26 and I am 42And so I lock her in.Well, wouldnt you?

Best to keep your chattels under lock and key,Best to guard your private property.If I found some dog was sniffing round my wife,Then Id send the bastard down for life!Nonetheless I must confessI slip away at half past ten.Oh, by the way, did I conveyThat Im the Prosecutor General?Isabelle is sweet and does her best to please,But still I have my secret fantasiesOf someone who can cook and moves a bit in bed.Thats what I imagine in my head.Having wined and dined, perhaps I mightConsort with ladies of the nightAnd find a floozy who can order me about,Someone with stilettos and a whipWholl make me grovel, make me stripAnd as Im taunted and abusedI can resemble the accusedWhos in the dock a-tremble at his fate.Ill cower like a common reprobate.Every single time Im beaten by a whore,I go to court and even up the score.(exits)

A street lined with shops. The WHORE enters. DUSOLEIL observes her, unseen.

WHORENowadays business is hard for a whore,Not like before during the war.Then there were lines to the end of the street.I was worked off my feet.Soldiers were risking their necks.Nowadays nobody thinks about sexWhich is perplexing and hard for an old fille de joie.How about me?What about moi?Look in this window- theres diamond and pearls,They go to other girls.Business-wise Ive got my back to the wall.Nobody comes, or comes at all.Better a blow-job than no job at all.Still the returns are small.Boys still stand up, make a fuss,But its to give me a seat on the bus.So I can just cut the mustard with men in the park.They have to be drunk, it has to be dark.Much as I hunger for diamonds and pearls,They go to younger girls.

DUSOLEILWhat is the purpose of doing what I doIf I cant help someone like you?If I cant give to the weak and the poor,What are my talents for?What is the point of doing this (slips into jewelry shop)If I cant promulgate bounty and bliss?Its be Christmas tonight on the streets of PareeThese are a gift from me!

DUSOLEIL reaches through the store-front and bedecks her with germs.

WHOREWhat is this feelingIve not felt for years?The tingle of jewels on my neck and m ears?Wheres my Prince Charming?(turns)Theres nobody there!Lovely fat diamonds all out of thin air.

All of my lifeIve been loved and adored.God, how Ive whored.Heres my reward.Yes, Ive been loved and adored till it hurts.These are my just desserts.Something for nothing, how strange.Normally men want my ass in exchange.My guardian angel is laughing and dancing up there,Scattering jewels over the square.Set off the fireworks all over Paree.Somebody cares for me.Whee! (runs off)

A few days later.

11. MONSIEUR PASSEPARTOUT

NEWSVENDORExtra extra, a sensationUnrecorded hitherto.Theres a man whoWalks through concrete,So theres nothing he cant do.He makes quick work of the brick workAs hes gliding, sliding through.Hes the key for every keyholeSo they call him Passepartout.

DUSOLEIL (overhearing him)Passepartout!Monsieur PassepartoutTheres not a single thing I cant do.Theres not a single place I cant reach.Theres not a single wall I cant breach.

NEWSVENDORHes no need for keys cause he can come and go as he pleases.If your house has a wall,Then its highly possible hell pay you all a call.

MADELEINEI saw him jump through the windowOf a grocery store

CHARLESAnd then retreat to the streetTo give the food to the poor.

PAINTERHe was distributing francsWhich he purloined from the banks,

NEWSVENDORSo the whole of MontmartreNow is richer than it ever was before.

DUSOLEILWhat a total transformation!Passepartout, not Dusoleil. (throws money)

ALLHooray!

DUSOLEILNow the whole world is my play-ground,Now the walls crumble away.

NEWSVENDORId never eaten foie gras.

PAINTERId never worn fancy clothes.

MAELEINEId never tasted champagne.The bubbles went up my nose.

CHARLESNow I can dine at Maxims.

POLICEMANNow we can pamper our pets.

WHORENow I can follow my dreams.

ALLNow we can pay all our debts!So merci beaucoup.

DUSOLEILThe names Monsieur Passepartout.If you could do what I do,I bet that youd do it too.

ALLMerci beaucoupThe names Monsieur Passsepartout.Dont bother locking your doorscause the very next place he goes into will be yours.

NEWSVENDOR (2x)Extra extra!Read all about itYou may doubt it but its true

DUSOLEILYes, very next placeI go into will be yours!

The square.

14. SPECIAL TIME OF DAY

ISABELLEHe sets me free from two to three,My special time of day.Thats when I do the groceriesAnd while the time away.Thats when I get to smell the air,The cigarettes, the camembert.My husband says,Its dangerous out there!But still Im free from two to three,My special time of day.The market traders flirt with me,Occasionlly theyll say,Your husband is a jealous bruteTo keep you under lock and key.I smile and buy my bread and fruit contentedly,Quite happy with my fantasyThat Passepartout is near at hand.Hell suddenly appearAnd lead me to a magic landA hundred million miles from here

Im always free from two to three,My special time of day.I keep my secret safe with meAnd smile and while the time away.

ISABELLE chats with vendors. DUSOLEIL enters. ISABELLE doesnt notice him.

DUSOLEILShe doesnt know my nameOr know that Im alive.I watch her everyday,She lives at number five.When I was nobody,Why should she look at me?How could I even dare to speak her name?

But now that Im a starWhy worship from afar?Why not walk up to youAnd just proclaim my

No. You are to beautiful and fair.I wouldnt speak, I wouldnt dare,

Id just be stammering and staringAs you glide across the square.I wouldnt dare to say a word.Youd never know that you had heard about me.This way, youll think of me.Okay, tangentially.But still my story on your radio.

When you lie down in bedIll be inside your head.All right, not literally,

ISABELLEAnd now I dream of you my Passepartout I dream youre lying beside me and when we kiss, you hold me tightand every night when I lie down in bed,I think of you instead,instead of him,the man whos next to me

DUSOLEILAnd when I dare to say hello to youSomehow youll know

ISABELLEAnd so I while the time away.Ill find my love

BOTHOne day.

15. WAITING

DUSOLEILHow can I demonstrate the brilliance of me?Break into the Louvre? (idea)No, the Banque de Paris!Their underground vault, unassailable for you.Simple for Passepartout!Down in the fathomless depths of the earthAll of the world will know what Im worth.So, come tomorrow youll read my reviews.I will be headline news.

The safe deposit vault of a bank. DUSOLEIL takes money, intentionally setting off the alarm.

The walls are like water, the concretes like dough.The Banque de Paris is a piece of gateau!Come on then,Im waiting, its ringing, its timeTo catch me, in flagrante, at the scene of the crime.Im waiting Im waiting

DUSOLEIL sits and waits for the POLICE to arrive

Well, it was great while it lasted,My powers were fun to have fun with.So now its over and done with.But I dont want to go back into my shell.Am I a clerk or a jewel thief?No, if Im meant to be someone,Two people have to become one.But will that please Isabelle?Oh, it felt fine, it felt great to give.It was wonderful way to live.To be the latter-day Robin Hood felt good.

But now Im split down the middle.You see a man whos divided.So now its time I decidedOne persons better than two.But if Im just DusoleilThen what will Isabelle say?

The square, later that day.

16. THE LATEST NEWS

NEWSVENDORThe latest newsIs something nobody anticipatedcause PassepartoutsJust been arrested and incarcerated.And heres the thing:He sets the sirens off and lets them ringSo he is sitting twiddling his thumbs,Sings a soliloquy till someone comes.I never knewThat he lives just across the way from me.Hes Dusoleil,The guy who lives at Number 22 Well, either 22 or 23 But now he lives in jail, theyve locked the guy away.

WHOREI never knew cause on the face of it, now how could he beThis Passepartout?I guessI should have offered him a freebie.If I had knownHe was a guy who lived his life alone,Id have been sensitive and understanding,Id have offered him a helping hand.Thats it with guys,Theyre always somehow constantly surprising.Ive seen it all,But I have never ever metA guy who likes to get hisKicks by walking through a wall.

PAINTERHes one of us.We want him back with us because we need him.Lets make a fuss,Lets hold a demonstration till theyve freed him,Start campaignAnd stand outside the prison in the rainAnd then start picketing

PAINTER/WHOREAnd singing songs

ALLUntil the Wallmans back where he belongs.We must unite.We must support him in his hour of needAnd we must fight,Yes, we must fight for him with all our might.

NEWSVENDORIll go on strike for him,

WHOREAnd Ill withhold my laborTill my friend and neighbor

+NEWSVENDORAnd Ill withhold my laborTill my friend and neighbor

+PAITERAnd Ill withhold my laborTill my friend and neighbor has been freed.

17. DUSOLEIL IN JAIL

DUSOLEILWhen you are the Wallman,when you are Passepartout,Prison regulations do not apply to you.Knowing that you might simply kiss the place goodbye,Makes it kinda tempting to try.If I had to stay here,Id stay here 20 yearscause Im only waiting till Isabelle appears.Shell have read about me,so Im sure shell pay a callFailing that,Ill walk through the wall.

MADELEINE(enters) Monsieur Dusoleil!

DUSOLEILIsabelle?

MADELEINEIts me. Madeleine.From the office?You sat by the door,I sat by the phone.God, I think my being would have burst if I had knownWho you really were, he was really you,Sitting by my side there was the pride of all Paree,My Passepartout.Im feeling feelings Ive never felt.I thought my poor frozen little heart would never melt.I used to watch you sitting at your desk.I thought that you were Kafkaesque,No personality at all.Now my innards burn for youAnd shamelessly I yearn for you To do to me what you did to the wall.Every time I try to type,I start to cry and have to wipeThe tears away, the tears I cannot hideTear me like an envelope,An object for your hands to open wideAnd you will find my heart inside.Bend me like a paper clip,But sing of our relationship with pride.I love you,I need you, and you need me too.My master, my hero, oh my Passepartout!

CLAIRE(enters) Monsieur Passepartout!

DUSOLEILIsabelle!

CLAIRENo. Claire. From the office.I sat on your left.She sat on your right.So I did my best to keep my feelings out of sight.Lonely days and nights, lonely months and years.Passion is forbidden.No one noticed at all my hidden hopes and fearsAnd no one guessed that my ample breastCould conceal such feelings and yet keep them unexpressed!Though Ive been a slave to my careerStuck at my desk year after year,Id end it all to be your wife.Who knows what the future will be?I could be your slave, your Trilby.I need a Svengali in my life.Living in my fantasy and longing for a man to seeThe real me I had to hide from view.People think Im on the shelf,But no, I chose to keep myselfImmaculate for somebody like you.That is why I stayed a virginwaiting for a soul to merge into.

BOTHI love you, I need you, and you need me too.My secret obsession.Oh my Passepartout.

POLICEMEN drag both women off. DUSOLEIL escapes. The PAINTER tells him to run, but DUSOLEIL is determined to tell ISABELLE he loves her.

18. PAINTERS SONG

Off he goes through the square.How superb, how strangeWhod have thought hed change?Whod have thought hed dare?

One splash of blue and another of red,Thats how I paint in my head.But in the street, well, its not up to me.I do what they need to see.In my mind I paint a different scene,A sky of blue, a sea of green,A smudged horizon in between.Meanwhile my life is a study in grey.I can feel it slip away.

While Dusoleil dares to walk through his walls,My dreams are trapped in my brain.He has the courage to alter his life,Heres where Im doomed to remain.If I drew the painting in my mind,Theyd be the wonder of mankind,Our whole existence re-defined.This brush will never be my brush with fate.Im not even second-rate

One splash of dull in a sea of clichTwenty four portraits a day.They stand in wonder at what I can do.Somehow thats wonderful too.So I should be glad of what Ive got,A man whos happy with his lot,Wholl never be what he is not.I make the world brighter, just for a while.I know how to paint a smile.

19. ISABELLE ON HER BALCONY

DUSOLEIL waits in the shadows.

ISABELLEHes out of prison,hes out of prison.My Passepartout.I heard about it on the news today.I somehow knew it.How did he do it?At last hes free again,hes free again, he got away!Theyll never find him, no, never find him.

PROSECUTOR (inside)Hey Isabelle, come help me find my missing show.Or Isabelle, have you got better things to do?

ISABELLEYes, I can hear you, yes, loud and clear, youDisgusting man,Im always waiting hand and foot on you!Ill go on dreaming cause when Im dreaming,I feel him holding me,enfolding me with all his might.And Im so lonely.Oh god if only I could escape, cause nowIm locked away all day, all night.Oh, come and see me.Then you can free me.Oh, here I am, Ill be your damsel in distress.

PROSECUTOR (inside)Oh, Isabelle!How come my clothes are such a mess?

ISABELLEYou hear him calling?God, hes appalling.How come Im lumbered with a husband who cant even dress?Oh my Passepartout,Ill fly, fly with youAnd soar through the sky.My wonderful hero and I.What if they catch him?

DUSOLEIL (reveals himself)Theyll never catch him.

ISABELLEWhat are you doing here?You startled me!Do I know you?

DUSOLEILIts me theyre after.Its me theyre after

ISABELLEWhat are you saying?You look nothing like my Passepartout.

DUSOLEILIve come to show you.Ive come to know youSo you can see, so you can see that I am me.Im Dusoleil,I live at number 23 and I love you.

ISABELLEBut you are not what I imagined.No, youre not my Passepartout!

DUSOLEILAlright, Ill show what I can do.

DUSOLEIL thrusts his arm through a neighbors door and pulls out a bouquet.

ISABELLEI dont believe it.I wont believe it.My perfect hero was so near.

DUSOLEILOh, let me set you free.You are in prison, the same as I was.

PROSECUTOR enters with POLICEMAN.

PROSECUTOROh Isabelle! (to DUSOLEIL)It is exactly as I thoughtAnd now I see that I have caught youIn a trap with Isabelle as bait.Well have you up before the magistrate.Youre a filthy thief who tried to steal my wifeAnd Ill be proud to send you down for life.

DUSOLEIL (as POLICEMAN drags him away)Isabelle! Isabelle!

ISABELLEMy Passepartout,Now that Ive found youI know what to do.

20. TRANSFORMATION

We are now in the court.

21. THE ADVOCATES PLEA

PRESIDENTMonsieur, will you speak for the defense.

ADVOCATEMonsieur le Prsident, Monsieur Dusoleil,Its with diffidence I rise todayAnd very nervously cause the fact isThis is my first time in the world of crime.So today is a big day for me.Now I should be cool and I should be calm,But Im wobbly as a potted palmAs you can probly see causeIve never been in court before andIm thirty-four.So today is a big day for me.

Yesterday at last, at last I passed, passed the bar exam.Here I finally am, timid as a lambAnd Im sweating and Im scared.The fitting word is merde.Im feeling rather unprepared.So Im not much use as a barristerAnd I couldnt feel embarrassed-er.Im sweating like a pig in a wig.So kindly hear my plea, set my client free cause today is a big day for me.

22. THE TRIAL

PRESIDENTMonsieur. Let the witnesses appear.Sister Madeleine.

MADELEINE rises (now dressed as a NUN)

MADELEINESpeaking from a nuns point of view,I took the veil when I saw him in jailThen I called the committee in Vatican City.They may sanctify Passepartout,For in his demeanor and in his behaviorHe certainly emulates Jesus our savior.And lo, his soul is good through and through.He has arisen like Christ, from his prisonTo take from the greedy and give to the needy.Hes pure as a monk (and a bit of a hunk)And he truly deserves support of every sortFrom the court.

PRESIDENTMadame whoever you are

WHOREI represent the moral majorityIm profoundly sorry to see my dear old friend in the dock.It came as a shock cause he always treated and greeted me very decently.

PRESIDENTThe Communist party of France.

PAINTER (COMMUNIST)We must state the rational view.We must agree, it is strange to relate,With the Catholic view (which is cogently stated)That we must free Monsieur Passepartout.He is a man who can stand for the masses,His deeds are the needs of the struggling classesTo break down walls and forge life anew.His is the struggle were struggling for,And to take from the wealthy and give to the poorIs a very applaudable, totally laudable deed.So were all agreed:Dusoleil should be freed.

PROSECUTORWhat is Justice?Whats it for?So a thug, a nun and a whore have their say.

PRESIDENTYoure right!Take the witnesses away!

SISTER MADELEINEYou can throw us out if you like.Do what you wish, you will not cloud the issueThat if hes not free then the whole of Paree goes on strike.

PAINTERAnd, yes, were forced to agree.He is our comrade, our friend and our neighbor.

SISTER MADELEINE/PAINTERWell fight to the end by withholding our laborTill hes set free.

WHOREThe same goes for me.Till Dusoleil is returned to the townThen my dressll stay up and my panties stay down.No, I probably mean that the other way round.Yes, I do!

ALL THREENow its time to fight for Monsieur Passepartout.

PROSECUTORLadies and gentlemen of the jury,Im sure youve heard the case with ill-concealed fury.This is a total open and shut caseBecause he either is a burglar or a nutcase.But then the fact that he shows no repentanceWill make it easier when Im passing sentence.He is the nastiest bastardI have ever seenThus I have no choice but to condemn him to the guillotine!

CHORUSThe guillotine!The guillotine?What can he mean?

PROSECUTORIts this rather wonderful machine.Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,certain truths are fundamental.Think what were sowing,think what were reapingIf such a pervert is encouraged to go creepingAnd then start peeping on our wives when they are sleeping.Someone stop me weeping,it is not in keeping,It is not in keeping with the decency of France.That is why Im keen to guillotine himWhile we have the chance.

CHORUSNo!

PROSECUTORTo walk through walls and be imprisoned, then escapeCan quickly escalate to murder and to rape.Think of your wife and of your sister and your daughter Hell ravish and slaughter them as they lie in bedTrembling in their scanties, in their bras and pantiesWith such repulsive fantasies fomenting in his head

DUSOLEIL (jumps up)Yes, I agree that anyone like that would be better off dead.

PROSECUTORSee, he confesses to these excesses.The mans an anarchist, a bastard and a rotterAnd hes a slippery as an otterAnd if we set him free, society will totter.He is a fascist, a commie, a plotter.Theres one solution and its execution!

ADVOCATENo!

ISABELLE (running in)Ladies and gentlemen,this mans my husbandAnd he should hang his head in shame and in disgrace.(hands DUSOLEIL a folder)I have something here will make him falterAnd alter the case.

CHORUSWhat an utterance, how runic and mysterious.Dusoleil looks as implacable and seriousAs the statue of the Emperor Tiberius.Whys the Prosecutor looking pale and sickly?Tell us quickly, tell us quickly.Dusoleil is going to go down fighting.Jesus, how exciting.(SISTER MADELEINE cringes)Whats he going to say?Its nail-biting.Jeepers, how exciting.

DUSOLEILNow is the time for me to turn the tables.Heres where the underdog gets to wag his tail.As you perhaps remember from Aesops fables,Occasionally the tortoise will prevail.

ISABELLEWe declare that that scoundrel thereIs the one who belongs in jail.

Yes! I found these papers in the atticCarefully hidden underneath the floor,Showing he was a traitor and fanatic,A Nazi sympathizer in the war (shows a photo)Here conferring withHermann Goering in 1944.

PRESIDENTLet me see that! (revealing another photo)This is you on a double date with Himmler!Your Nazi party membership as well!

WHORELet him be sent to the guillotine or simlar.

ALLJust look at the man,hes culpable as hell.Hip hooray, Monsieur Dusoleil!And the same to Isabelle.

MENLook at the man, hes absolutely baffled.

WOMENIt seems hi prosecuting days are through.

ALLLead him away and take him to the scaffold.

PROSECUTOR (to Isabelle)My darling, after all I did for you.(POLICEMAN drags him away)

ALLHip hooray, Monsieur Dusoleil,Better known as Passepartout!

PRESIDENTDusoleil, will you kindly sayWhy you posed as Passepartout.

23. DUET FOR DUSOLEIL AND ISABELLE

DUSOLEILAll that I did was to hope you would notice me,Pray that youd see me or feel I was there.Walls were my medium:There Id write rhapsodies,Sonnets and symphonies for you to share.Not to seduce you, well, not necessarily,Mainly to gaze from afar.When the walls fall away, love sees the light of day.Youll be known as you are,Radiant and bathed in starlight.

ISABELLEAll that you did was to hope that Id notice you,See you or feel you or know you were there.I heard your rhapsodies, sonnets and symphonies,Glorious melodies filling the air.Thats how you wooed me, and not unsuccessfully.My heart could tell you were near.But my eyes longed to seeWhat Id dreamed you would be.I knew you would appear,my ideal,my hero.

BOTH (+CHORUS)Such was my yearning that somehow youd speak to me.Somehow the walls have all crumbled away.Now I can speak to you.Now I just stare at you.Now I have nothing to say.

BOTHNow I have nothing to say.

ISABELLE waits for DUSOLEIL to approach her. When he doesnt, she runs off.

24. WHISTLING BALLET

DUSOLEILWish ii wasnt so intimidating.

ADVOCATENows the perfect time to lunge.

WHOREHer husbands off in jail and she is willing, waiting.

PRESIDENTHow about taking the plunge?

PAINTERDusoleil, what are you waiting for?

DUSOLEILWell, if you wait for something, you enjoy it more.

SISTER MADELEINEWell, yes, I guess, but if you wait all day,Youll let the moment slip away.

DUSOLEILOkay!

ADVOCATEThe fact youve always been a cringing cowardMust be tricky to expunge.

PRESIDENTBut since you have the power, why not be empowered?

ALLHow about taking the plunge?

DUSOLEILIm as shy a man as you could meet,Im zealous in my modesty.I might just walk around the square, oh, two or three timesRather than taking the P-L-U-N-G

WHOREJeez Louise, you are a real disgrace!Its time to screw your courage to the sticking place.And yes, unless she is a foolish cow,She will be waiting for you now!

DUSOLEILOh wow!

ADVOCATEWeve never seen such total lack of backbone.

PAINTERYoure as spineless as a sponge.

POLICEMANAnd by the time youve dithered,Shell be old and withered.

ALLHow about taking the plunge?

How about taking the, breaking the, making the, how about taking the plunge?

They escort a startled DUSOLEIL to ISABELLEs bed and tiptoe off.A long while later

25. AMOUR

DUSOLEILMon amour.

ISABELLEMon amour.

DUSOLEILHas there ever been a night more beautiful than this is?

ISABELLESeven hours in bed, my head still reeling from your kisses.

DUSOLEILI had no idea that making love could be so splendid.

ISABELLESo splendid.

BOTHDont you think its odd how easily our bodies blended?Suddenly life has begun.Suddenly you became me became one.Suddenly all of the worldTurns into gold when you are hereHolding me, holding me.

ISABELLEHow I loved the way you kissed me as I made you dinner.

DUSOLEILThen we went to bed again, not bad for a beginner!

ISABELLEYes, youre everything Ive ever dreamed of in a lover.

DUSOLEILA lover! Thank you so, but now I need a moment to recover.

BOTHDarling my love, hold me tight.We will go floating on clouds of delightThen we will soar and well glide,You by my side.Turning and spinning (They dance.)Suddenly life has begun.Suddenly you became me became one.Suddenly all of the worldTurns into gold when youreHolding me.

The next morning, a crowd has gathered outside.

26. DUSOLEIL MEETS THE PRESS

NEWSVENDORWe are shooting in MontmartreFilming Monsieur Passepartout.Sir, the media really need yaTo display what you can do.If you wow us with your prowess,We will make a star of you.Theyll have statues in your honor,So come on please, Passepartout.

DUSOLEILI need some aspirin, need some pills, before I dare to face the press(finds the pills in his pocket)Now what are there?Theyre in my pocket.Im a mess.All that champagne has done my brain in,Love has brought me to my knees.Maybe I must bow, bow to public pressure nowSo Ill take a couple of

VOICE OF DOCTORTake a couple of these.They should cure your disease.

DUSOLEILs vanity gets the better of him. He goes out to the street. The crowd encourages him. He takes a running leap into the wall. And gets stuck! The crowd is stunned.

NEWSVENDORExtra, extra-ordinary.This is tragic, a crying shameThat his magic should have vanished just as quickly as it came.In an effort to explain this,I have asked his doctor here.

DOCTORWell, the tablets I prescribed him made his powers disappear.

27. SERENADE

DUSOLEILWas it too beautiful to last?Now Im immured, now Im stuck fast.Im half without and half within.And look, my friends have come to callTo see the Wallman in his wallAnd keep me warm and dry in winter.It seems the Doctor Found the cure,And though Ive plenty to endure,My place in historys assured me.Ill face posterity in stoneBut Isabelle must sleep alone.Her husbands locked away for life,So not a widow, nor a wifeStuck in the middle just like me.It all depends on who you know.The news guys got a TV show,The painters only painting me.And now the whores a great success,Shes sold her story to the press;She sold the movie rights as well.But what of darling Isabelle?

ISABELLEIt was too beautiful to last.Now Im like you, now Im stuck fastBetween the future and the past.Perhaps I sinned, perhaps I strayed,Perhaps thats why I have been madeTo lead a life of total virtue.Is there some way to set you free?Pneumatic drill or TNT?But no,I wouldnt let them hurt you.Its almost certainly too late,So lets resign ourselves to fate.And every day Ill come to callTo see my darling in his wallAnd dream of what we might have known.And from now on the world can seeHow much you loved meIt will bePreserved perpetually in stone.

BOTHIt was too beautiful to last.Youre still my future, still my past.

DUSOLEILMy love.

ISABELLEMy darling, Passepartout.(embraces him)

BOTHMy heart will always be with you.

The WHORE separates ISABELLE from DUSOLEIL.

DUSOLEIL(CHORUS hums behind)I was a mere civil servantHardly deserving of mention.I had my job and my pension,Nothing unusual or special about me.I went to work on a Monday,Worked as a clerk every Monday,Then to the park on a Sunday, Never suspecting that one day

CHORUSThat hed be destined for glory,That hed be part of a storyAnd that it still would be told today.

ALLThere is a wall on the Rue St. VincentIn the 18th Arrondissement.There is a statue thats there to this dayOf Monsieur Dusoleil.

F I N