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,

EMPLOYEES

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

CLAIREAm I developing a pimple?

BERTRAND (looks at his newspaper)I’m stuck on 25 across.

EMPLOYEESThat’s what we do and who can blame us?That’s how we make it through the day.Still someone manages to shame us.Who’s always scribbling away?It’s Dusoleil.

CLAIRE/MADELEINEWhile we’re relaxing, what does he do?

BERTRAND/CHARLESWorks through his lunch break and his tea.

CLAIRE/BERTRANDHe’s doing twice as much as we do.

EMPLOYEESBoy, he’s 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/CHARLES

Well, what the hell, he’s just a nerd…

EMPLOYEESThe office nerd.

DUSOLEIL (typing)“Dear Mama, it’s been ages since I dropped a line to you.I wrote you on Wednesday and I know today is Friday…But the office has been crazy, with a thousand things to do.So everything’s been busy and my head is going dizzy,I’m as jumpy as a monkey in a zoo…But though it’s nearly 5 o’clock and I have found the time to write to you,It’s really yours sincerely who’s been doing all the work.As usual the others have been driving me berserkBy shirking, not working.Their dedication’s minimal, they’re criminally slowAnd counting off the minutes till it’s time for them to go.”

BERTRANDIt’s two minutes to five!

DUSOLEIL“ The reason it’s so busy here is simple to relate:You know Monsieur Lacrosse, the man who’s always been the boss,Well, he is leaving here today as he is over 68.He’s like a mad professor and I’m 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 haven’t found a wife.You ask me if I’m seeing someone, in a sense I am…I’m gazing in wonderAt someone unattainable whom I don’t even know.I’ve 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,There’s no-one there to phone,No need for, “Darling, I’m afraidThat I might be delayed.”So if you miss your trainOr get caught in the rain,There’s no one there who’d dare complain.And it’s not that I’ve not got things to do:I’ll read a book or two,I’ll feed my cat or make a stew…And as the lights dim over Sacre Coeur,I’ll search for her, the lovely Isabelle.I always know she’s thereBecause there’s magic in the air.

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

4. OTHER PEOPLE’S STORIES

ISABELLEOther people’s stories,Other people’s lives,Socialites and film stars,Cheating on their wives.Debutants in ball gowns,Young and fancy free,People on adventures.Not me…Other people’s intrigue,Other people’s sin.Why does David NivenLive with Errol Flynn?Other people’s secrets

Bursting to be told,Hotbeds of excitement.Mine’s cold.

Jean Cocteau and Jean MaraisHave fallen out with Charles Trenet.Frank Sinatra’s in MontmartreIn a silver Chevrolet...And where is Greta Garbo?And who is Howard Hughes?It’s other people’s storiesAnd other people’s news.You won’t 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.You’re not to make a fuss.Love will happen later,That’s how it was for us.”Mother said, “He’s wealthy,Be gad of what you get.”Love will happen later?Not yet…

Other people’s secrets,Bursting to be known.My mysterious husbandHas secrets of his own.Me, I have my daydreams…Until they all come trueOther people’s 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 you’re likely to meet.We like to work the street.

PAINTERI’ll paint you beautiful views,Garish concoctions of yellows and blues.

NEWSVENDORI sell the news.

WHOREI’ve particular favors to sell,My clienteleAll know me wellAnd I can boast I’m the toast of Montmartre.I’ve been with Jean Paul Sartre!

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

This is the chorus we’re forced to repeatAll about life here on the street.

WHOREIt’s tough on the back

PAINTERAnd the brush

NEWSVENDORAnd the feet.

ALL THREE

But everyone has to eat.

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

POLICEMAN 1Ev’ry day from ten o’clock 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 wouldn’t like to call them henchmen,They’re honest FrenchmenWho know their duty and the fact that I’m the prosecutor gen’ral and bailiff,You’ll 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 it’s 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 gloop

Is the remnants of a lemon soufflй.While I’m 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 you’re likely to meetOn the Rue St. Vincent… forever.

6. DUSOLEIL WALKS THROUGH THE WALL

DUSOLEILThis journey home aloneIs all I’ve ever known,Another evening on my-

As he reaches his landing, the lights go out.

The power’s gone out.Oh, what a bore.Just when I’m standing here by my door.How can I cook, read a book, take a showerWhen the powers-that-beKeep on cutting the power?I’ve 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 don’t feel quite right…

The light comes back on.

Now they’re back on,Typical that.Now where have my keys got to?

He notices he is inside his apartment.

I’m in my flat.Wasn’t 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 he’s outside again.

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

The light comes on again. DUSOLEIL’s leg is not visible.

The door is still shutAnd I’m out in the hall.Oh my god, where’s my leg?It’s gone right through the wall!

It’s home for tea just before me.If there’s no wall here,Then what’s 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, I’ll go make an appointment.He might give me an ointmentOr put me on some pillsWhich’ll cure my… oh,It’s all my imagination,All total aberration,No need for medication.Still it’s better to be sure.I’ll go and see the doctor now,Maybe he can help somehow.He’s around the cornerSo I’ll ring the bell and walk straight through the door…Things are getting serious!I’m totally delirious!I’d 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,I’m illegal, and that’s whyI’m cheap.

DUSOLEIL enters the DOCTOR’s office… through the wall.

DOCTORGod! A patient!

DUSOLEILYou’re 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, it’s trembling like mine.Mind you, mine’s due to wine.Stand up straight.Count to four.

DUSOLEIL1, 2, 3…

DOCTORThat’s great, now lie down on the floor.That’s surprising, ‘cause youShould be falling right throughAnd it’s odd that you’re not,But it’s clear what you’ve gotSo I’ll briefly tell you what’s what.

You’ve 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 please…I can also prescribeSomething you can imbibe.Anybody who drinksSaves fortune on shrinks.When I’m treating the blues,I use what we doctors call “booze.”You’ve got a case of…

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

DOCTORI’ve got a case of wine…Should a headache ensue,Drink a liter or two.After that you’ll feel fine. (Exits)

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

8. AN ORDINARY GUY

DUSOLEILI don’t deserve your attention.I’m hardly worthy of mention.I’ve 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.

I’m just the guy living down the hall,A normal, ordinary Joe, that’s allWho’d never dream of walking through a wall at all.It’s 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 life’s 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 life’s acquired a dimensionThat’s quite beyond comprehension.Was this divine intervention?(He puts the pills in his pocket.)I won’t need these anymore.I wonder what it’s all for?What’s it for?

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

9. DUSOLEIL’S REVENGE

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

DUSOLEILIt’s a letter to my mother.

BOSSTo your mother?You’re grotesque!Why to her?

DUSOLEILI’m her son…

BOSSIf we compromise on discipline,

there’s 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 isn’t fair.

BOSSAnd if you dare to answer backThen you may find that this epistleIs the cause of your dismissalIf you’re obstinate, recalcitrant and slack.(BOSS chases DUSOLEIL back to his desk.)Back to work.Don’t forget that you’re a clerkWho’s paid to work in office time.You are a jerk, you’re 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, it’s really yours sincerely who’s been doing all the work,As usual the others have been…” yada yada yada.If the world behaved like you, we’d all be writing to our mothersAnd then criticizing others, so I’m giving you a confidential tip:Don’t 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.Here’s my reply:(stuck his head through BOSS’ wall)that you’re 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 accuracy’s 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 don’t quite get the joke.

BOSSNo, nor do I. I’ll say goodbye.(exits)

DUSOLEIL“That 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-DuYou’re still typing over here and yet your head was over there.

DUSOLEILOver where?

BOSSOn the wall.

DUSOLEILNo no no I’ve just been sitting here,I haven’t moved at allFrom my chair since ten to three.

BOOSIt can’t 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 I’m your brand new bossAnd I will and I will and I willNot let myself be flustered.A boss must be the bossAnd he’s got, and he’s got, and he’s gotHe’s got to cut the mustard.(enters EMPLOYEES’ area brandishing rifle)And I’m supposed to be the pillarOf the Ministry of Post,So I cannot believe in visionsAnd I won’t believe in ghosts.I’m sure I can’t be drunk

Because I never drink a drop.So if some bastard’s playing tricks on meThey’d damn well better stop.It’s all a communist conspiracy.It’s a plot, it’s a plotIt’s a plot to make me look a moron.I’m not a man to cross!So from now, so from now, so from now,So from now on there’s a war on!

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

EMPLOYEESWe’ll show him who is boss.It is time, it is time, it is time,It’s time that we got tougher.

BOSSIf they don’t know who’s boss,Then the count-, then the count-, then the count-,Then the country’s going to suffer!

EMPLOYEESOur poor old brand new boss!But it does-, but it does-, but it does-But it doesn’t really matter ‘cause we don’t give a tossThat he’s mad, that he’s mad, that he’s mad,That he’s 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

ISABELLEIt’s the time of day when the world is grey,I am waiting, waiting for somebody.And I search the skies with my aching eyes

For my special someone, my somebody.Tho’ I know it’s wrong, all my senses longFor the man who’s strong and can comfort me.

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

And I scan the square and there’s no-one there,I mean no one there who is there for me.And the night draws on and my husband’s goneBut I don’t 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 it’s easy to face in the warm embraceOf my perfect fantasySomebody…

ISABELLE withdraws. The PROSECUTOR emerges from under her balcony.

11. PROSECUTOR’S SONG

PROSECUTORI always bolt the door in case she flies the coop.You see, I’m not a total nincompoop.She is 26 and I am 42And so I lock her in.Well, wouldn’t 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 I’d send the bastard down for life!Nonetheless I must confess…

I slip away at half past ten.Oh, by the way, did I conveyThat I’m 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.That’s 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 whipWho’ll make me grovel, make me stripAnd as I’m taunted and abusedI can resemble the accusedWho’s in the dock a-tremble at his fate.I’ll cower like a common reprobate.Every single time I’m 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- there’s diamond and pearls,They go to other girls.Business-wise I’ve 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 it’s 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 can’t help someone like you?If I can’t 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 can’t promulgate bounty and bliss?It’s 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 feelingI’ve not felt for years?The tingle of jewels on my neck and m ears?Where’s my Prince Charming?(turns)There’s nobody there!Lovely fat diamonds all out of thin air.

All of my lifeI’ve been loved and adored.God, how I’ve whored.Here’s my reward.Yes, I’ve 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.There’s a man whoWalks through concrete,So there’s nothing he can’t do.He makes quick work of the brick workAs he’s gliding, sliding through.He’s the key for every keyholeSo they call him Passepartout.

DUSOLEIL (overhearing him)Passepartout!Monsieur Passepartout…There’s not a single thing I can’t do.There’s not a single place I can’t reach.There’s not a single wall I can’t breach.

NEWSVENDORHe’s no need for keys ‘cause he can come and go as he pleases.If your house has a wall,Then it’s highly possible he’ll 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 francs

Which 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.

NEWSVENDORI’d never eaten foie gras.

PAINTERI’d never worn fancy clothes.

MAELEINEI’d never tasted champagne.The bubbles went up my nose.

CHARLESNow I can dine at Maxim’s.

POLICEMANNow we can pamper our pets.

WHORENow I can follow my dreams.

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

DUSOLEILThe name’s Monsieur Passepartout.If you could do what I do,I bet that you’d do it too.

ALLMerci beaucoupThe name’s Monsieur Passsepartout.Don’t bother locking your doors‘cause the very next place he goes into will be yours.

NEWSVENDOR (2x)Extra extra!Read all about itYou may doubt it but it’s 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.That’s when I do the groceriesAnd while the time away.That’s when I get to smell the air,The cigarettes, the camembert.My husband says,“It’s dangerous out there!”But still I’m free from two to three,My special time of day.The market traders flirt with me,Occasion’lly they’ll 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.He’ll suddenly appearAnd lead me to a magic landA hundred million miles from here…

I’m 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 doesn’t notice him.

DUSOLEILShe doesn’t know my nameOr know that I’m 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 I’m a starWhy worship from afar?Why not walk up to youAnd just proclaim my…

No. You are to beautiful and fair.I wouldn’t speak, I wouldn’t dare,

I’d just be stammering and staringAs you glide across the square.I wouldn’t dare to say a word.You’d never know that you had heard about me.This way, you’ll think of me.Okay, tangentially.But still my story on your radio.

When you lie down in bed

I’ll be inside your head.All right, not literally,

ISABELLEAnd now I dream of you… my Passepartout… I dream you’re 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 who’s next to me

DUSOLEILAnd when I dare to say hello to youSomehow you’ll know…

ISABELLEAnd so I while the time away.I’ll 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 I’m worth.So, come tomorrow you’ll 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 concrete’s like dough.The Banque de Paris is a piece of gateau!Come on then,I’m waiting, it’s ringing, it’s timeTo catch me, in flagrante, at the scene of the crime.I’m waiting… I’m 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 it’s over and done with.But I don’t want to go back into my shell.Am I a clerk or a jewel thief?No, if I’m 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 I’m split down the middle.You see a man who’s divided.So now it’s time I decided…One person’s better than two.But if I’m just Dusoleil…Then what will Isabelle say?

The square, later that day.

16. THE LATEST NEWS

NEWSVENDORThe latest newsIs something nobody anticipated‘cause Passepartout’sJust been arrested and incarcerated.And here’s the thing:He sets the sirens off and lets them ring

So he is sitting twiddling his thumbs,Sings a soliloquy till someone comes.I never knewThat he lives just across the way from me.He’s Dusoleil,The guy who lives at Number 22 –Well, either 22 or 23 –But now he lives in jail, they’ve 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,I’d have been sensitive and understanding,I’d have offered him a helping hand.That’s it with guys,They’re always somehow constantly surprising.I’ve seen it all,But I have never ever metA guy who likes to get hisKicks by walking through a wall.

PAINTERHe’s one of us.We want him back with us because we need him.Let’s make a fuss,Let’s hold a demonstration till they’ve freed him,Start campaignAnd stand outside the prison in the rainAnd then start picketing

PAINTER/WHOREAnd singing songs

ALLUntil the Wallman’s 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.

NEWSVENDORI’ll go on strike for him,

WHOREAnd I’ll withhold my laborTill my friend and neighbor

+NEWSVENDORAnd I’ll withhold my laborTill my friend and neighbor

+PAITERAnd I’ll 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,I’d stay here 20 years…‘cause I’m only waiting till Isabelle appears.She’ll have read about me,so I’m sure she’ll pay a call…Failing that,I’ll walk through the wall.

MADELEINE(enters) Monsieur Dusoleil!

DUSOLEILIsabelle?

MADELEINEIt’s 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.I’m feeling feelings I’ve 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 I’ve been a slave to my careerStuck at my desk year after year,I’d 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 I’m 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. PAINTER’S SONG

Off he goes… through the square.How superb, how strange…Who’d have thought he’d change?Who’d have thought he’d dare?

One splash of blue and another of red,That’s how I paint in my head.

But in the street, well, it’s 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,Here’s where I’m doomed to remain.If I drew the painting in my mind,They’d be the wonder of mankind,Our whole existence re-defined.This brush will never be my brush with fate.I’m not even second-rate…

One splash of dull in a sea of clichйTwenty four portraits a day.They stand in wonder at what I can do.Somehow that’s wonderful too.So I should be glad of what I’ve got,A man who’s happy with his lot,Who’ll 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.

ISABELLEHe’s out of prison,he’s out of prison.My Passepartout.I heard about it on the news today.I somehow knew it.How did he do it?At last he’s free again,

he’s free again, he got away!They’ll 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,I’m always waiting hand and foot on you!I’ll go on dreaming ‘cause when I’m dreaming,I feel him holding me,enfolding me with all his might.And I’m so lonely.Oh god if only I could escape, ‘cause nowI’m locked away all day, all night.Oh, come and see me.Then you can free me.Oh, here I am, I’ll be your damsel in distress.

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

ISABELLEYou hear him calling?God, he’s appalling.How come I’m lumbered with a husband who can’t even dress?Oh my Passepartout,I’ll fly, fly with youAnd soar through the sky.My wonderful hero and I.What if they catch him?

DUSOLEIL (reveals himself)They’ll never catch him.

ISABELLE

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

DUSOLEILIt’s me they’re after.It’s me they’re after…

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

DUSOLEILI’ve come to show you.I’ve come to know youSo you can see, so you can see that I am me.I’m Dusoleil,I live at number 23 and I love you.

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

DUSOLEILAlright, I’ll show what I can do.

DUSOLEIL thrusts his arm through a neighbor’s door and pulls out a bouquet.

ISABELLEI don’t believe it.I won’t 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.We’ll have you up before the magistrate.You’re a filthy thief who tried to steal my wifeAnd I’ll be proud to send you down for life.

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

ISABELLEMy Passepartout,Now that I’ve found youI know what to do.

20. TRANSFORMATION

We are now in the court.

21. THE ADVOCATE’S PLEA

PRESIDENTMonsieur, will you speak for the defense.

ADVOCATEMonsieur le Prйsident, Monsieur Dusoleil,It’s 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 I’m wobbly as a potted palmAs you can prob’ly see ‘causeI’ve never been in court before andI’m 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 I’m sweating and I’m scared.The fitting word is “merde.”I’m feeling rather unprepared.So I’m not much use as a barristerAnd I couldn’t feel embarrassed-er.I’m 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 nun’s 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.He’s 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 majorityI’m 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 we’re struggling for,And to take from the wealthy and give to the poorIs a very applaudable, totally laudable deed.So we’re all agreed:Dusoleil should be freed.

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

PRESIDENTYou’re 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 he’s not free then the whole of Paree goes on strike.

PAINTERAnd, yes, we’re forced to agree.He is our comrade, our friend and our neighbor.

SISTER MADELEINE/PAINTERWe’ll fight to the end by withholding our laborTill he’s set free.

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

ALL THREENow it’s time to fight for Monsieur Passepartout.

PROSECUTORLadies and gentlemen of the jury,I’m sure you’ve 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 I’m 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?

PROSECUTORIt’s this rather wonderful machine.Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,certain truths are fundamental.Think what we’re sowing,think what we’re 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 I’m keen to guillotine him

While 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 – He’ll 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 man’s an anarchist, a bastard and a rotterAnd he’s a slippery as an otterAnd if we set him free, society will totter.He is a fascist, a commie, a plotter.There’s one solution and it’s execution!

ADVOCATENo!

ISABELLE (running in)Ladies and gentlemen,this man’s 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 serious

As the statue of the Emperor Tiberius.Why’s 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)What’s he going to say?It’s nail-biting.Jeepers, how exciting.

DUSOLEILNow is the time for me to turn the tables.Here’s where the underdog gets to wag his tail.As you perhaps remember from Aesop’s 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 sim’lar.

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

MENLook at the man, he’s 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 you’d see me or feel I was there.Walls were my medium:There I’d 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.You’ll be known as you are,Radiant and bathed in starlight.

ISABELLEAll that you did was to hope that I’d notice you,See you or feel you or know you were there.I heard your rhapsodies, sonnets and symphonies,

Glorious melodies filling the air.That’s how you wooed me, and not unsuccessfully.My heart could tell you were near.But my eyes longed to seeWhat I’d dreamed you would be.I knew you would appear,my ideal,my hero.

BOTH (+CHORUS)Such was my yearning that somehow you’d 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 doesn’t, she runs off.

24. WHISTLING BALLET

DUSOLEILWish ii wasn’t so intimidating.

ADVOCATENow’s the perfect time to lunge.

WHOREHer husband’s off in jail and she is willing, waiting.

PRESIDENTHow about taking the plunge?

PAINTERDusoleil, what are you waiting for?

DUSOLEIL

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

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

DUSOLEILOkay!

ADVOCATEThe fact you’ve always been a cringing cowardMust be tricky to expunge.

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

ALLHow about taking the plunge?

DUSOLEILI’m as shy a man as you could meet,I’m 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!It’s 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!

ADVOCATEWe’ve never seen such total lack of backbone.

PAINTERYou’re as spineless as a sponge.

POLICEMANAnd by the time you’ve dithered,She’ll 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 ISABELLE’s 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.

BOTHDon’t you think it’s 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 here

Holding 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, you’re everything I’ve 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 we’ll 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 you’reHolding 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.They’ll 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?They’re in my pocket.I’m 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 I’ll take a couple of…

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

DUSOLEIL’s 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 shame…That 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 I’m immured, now I’m stuck fast.I’m half without and half within.And look, my friends have come to callTo see the Wallman in his wall

And keep me warm and dry in winter.It seems the Doctor Found the cure,And though I’ve plenty to endure,My place in history’s assured me.I’ll face posterity in stoneBut Isabelle must sleep alone.Her husband’s 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 guy’s got a TV show,The painter’s only painting me.And now the whore’s a great success,She’s 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 I’m like you, now I’m stuck fastBetween the future and the past.Perhaps I sinned, perhaps I strayed,Perhaps that’s 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 wouldn’t let them hurt you.It’s almost certainly too late,So let’s resign ourselves to fate.And every day I’ll 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.

You’re 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 he’d be destined for glory,That he’d 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 that’s there to this dayOf Monsieur Dusoleil.

F I N