Gasping - the Play

Gasping
was
first performed at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, London, on 1st June 1990. The
cast, in order of appearance, was as follows:

With the voice of Stephen Fry

Directed by Bob Spiers. Designed by Terry
Parsons. Produced by Philip McIntyre.

ACT ONE

SCENE ONE

The Executive Boardroom of Lockheart
Holdings. A power office with large panoramic windows. A strategy meeting is in
progress, graphs and charts.
PHILIP
and
SANDY,
two
top young exec’s, are pitching to
SIR CHIFFLEY
LOCKHEART,
the Chief.

PHILIP:
And so Chief, as you can see, all
divisions are way way ahead of seasonal predictions. Look
(he takes a graph)
this is my biggest graph and Peter Profit is way way off the right hand
corner... I’ve had to glue two together
(he proudly folds it out)...
Well
obviously
I
didn’t do it. I had some of my people do it. Anyway, whoever
did it, the results, as I think you’ll agree, are impressive. Our corporate
hem-line is showing off plenty of stunning thigh. If this keeps up much longer
we’re going to have to move into a very much bigger pair of corporate trousers.
Possibly Switzerland.

CHIEF
(slightly confused by
PHILIP’S
language):
Hmm, yes, can I just get this clear Philip. We’re making money? Is
that what you’re trying to say?

PHILIP:
Senior money, Chief. If
God
wanted
to buy into Lockheart stock, he’d have to think twice
and
talk to his
people.

CHIEF:
Good. Good, at least I think good. So
taking a broad view Philip, charts and presentation rubbish aside, what’s your
personal gut reaction?

PHILIP
(thoughtfully pacing):
Well Chief, I would have to say, that I am very excited. In fact I
have said it, I said it to my people only this morning, ‘People,’ I said, ‘I am
very excited,’ and they know I don’t mince about the bush. But it isn’t just me
Chief, the sales task force is very excited. The boys in corporate raiding are
very excited. The market strike unit damage control spin doctors are very
excited. Above all Chief
you
should be excited... Sir Chiffley Lockheart
should feel like a twelve-year-old who’s just discovered it’s not only for
pissing.

(A phone
rings.
PHILIP
and
SANDY
instantly produce portable phones.)

PHILIP, SANDY:
Not now goddammit.

(The phone
rings again.
CHIEF
calmly
picks up one of the phones on his desk.)

CHIEF:
Thank you Miss Hodges, could you
possibly hold all calls? Thank you...
(crossing to champagne trolley,
fingering bottles.)
And you Sandy, how do you feel about our corporate
erection? Are you as excited as Philip?

SANDY:
Well Chief, I wouldn’t want to commit
myself fully until I’d talked to my people, but off the cuff, as a non-binding,
ball park reaction, I’d say that if anything I was slightly more excited than
Philip.

CHIEF:
More
excited?

SANDY:
Slightly Sir.

CHIEF:
I see.
(pause)
Unfortunately,
I’m not.

SANDY:
Slightly more excited than Philip in
one way Sir... but in twelve other ways, rather less so
(stifles yawn)...

PHILIP
(surprised pause):
Chief, I’m just not in following mode here. I mean, look at the
graph! We couldn’t be making any more money if we were a Lesbian couple with
six test-tube kids living off the social security in a Labour controlled
borough while the Home Office tried to send us back to Sri Lanka.

CHIEF:
Please don’t misunderstand me Philip.
I’m pleased, good lord yes, oh no question there. It’s just that I’m not
excited.

PHILIP:
You’re not?

CHIEF:
I couldn’t be less excited if you
were both Swedish.

PHILIP
(pulling himself together):
Chief, you’re absolutely right. OK, so Peter Profit has opened up
his dirty mac and said, ‘What about that for a whopper.’ But hell, there are
bigger girls in the cat-house down the street and they can squat down and pick
up ping-pong balls! and, What’s more, without using their hands. We have to
meet Terry Triumph and Derek Disaster and treat those two impostors just the
same.

SANDY:
The Chief’s right Phil. Champagne?
Forget it, mine’s a cup of coffee, very black and I’m onto my next video ledger
heading for the right hand column with my decimal point in my hand.

PHILIP
(packing up his visual aids):
Sorry to have wasted your time Chief. We’ll be back when this red
line
(the graph)
is wound round the room so often you’d think it was a
Blue Peter Christmas appeal ...

(They are about to go.)

CHIEF
(stopping them):
Don’t be absurd, our profits are quite magnificent. I’m delighted
with them. But you have to. face facts. There is nothing remotely
exciting
about
our present success. We make our huge piles of money by
having
huge
piles of money. We buy land, take over factories, invest in other people’s
labour and creative zeal.

(PHILIP
and
SANDY
are rather
crushed.)

CHIEF
(reflecting for a moment; he has
something significant to tell them):
Gentlemen, I’m
no longer a young man but my life so far has been a full one. I’ve seen a great
deal and I’ve bought almost all of it. I’ve hobbed with the rich and I’ve
nobbed with the beautiful. Do you want to know what is exciting?
(pause)
The
Pot Noodle. That’s what’s exciting. Find me a Pot Noodle,
then
you shall
see your old Chief excited.

(There is a
brief pause for surprise.)

PHILIP
(pacing across the room, hits the
intercom):
Daphne get your sweet little ass in here
pronto dammit, with some Norris Noodles, instant variety, assorted flavours and
why the
hell
wasn’t this anticipated. You’re paid to
think
goddammit
...

(intercom off)
All sorted Chief, I can’t imagine how it got
overlooked.

CHIEF
(at intercom):
Cancel the last request Miss Hodges. I should explain Philip that I
am employing a metaphor ...

PHILIP:
You won’t find I have a problem with
that Chief, if a guy’s good, I don’t care where his parents were born.

CHIEF:
(arm round
PHILIP):
Philip, come over here, let me show
you something.

PHILIP:
With you Chief.

CHIEF:
It’s a painting by Rembrandt, who as
you may be aware, was a painter. It is a torso.

(They cross
to wall where a picture hangs.)

PHILIP
(wishing to convey awe-struck
delight):
Oh…… Oh Sir, oh oh oh
Chief
it’s exquisite
Sir,  quite exquisite the uhm colour…… and the light, yes, that’s it, the
light. Am I right Sandy? back me up.

SANDY:
No question Philip, the guy had
senior talent. The sort of rough-hewn, fierce-eyed, canvas-covering cowboy
who’d get up in the morning and say to his shaving mirror, ‘I
can
paint.
I
will
paint.’ By mid-afternoon he’s holding a major retrospective and
he’s
bored.

PHILIP:
Exactly! Chief, let me tell you a
little about the way I see this guy. Come 5.30 on the West bank of the Seine,
when all the other smock-wearers are packing up their brushes ready for another
evening of booze, whores, and trying to come to terms with being only three
feet tall, friend Rembrandt power-packs another paletteful, phones the Louvre,
tells them to clear a wall and before you know it, the
Mona Lisa’s
winking
that inscrutable wink at him while her ears dry.

CHIEF:
You’re an admirer then?

PHILIP:
Be a fool not to be Chief. The fact
that Rembrandt had access to real business-class ability is
not
negotiable.
Christ, you only have to look at the guy’s product
(indicating canvas).

CHIEF:
Well you may be right, I’m sure you
are, but as it happens, this isn’t the picture. This is the picture of the
bright purple Spanish girl in the nude that some clever so-and-so sells
millions of every year. The Rembrandt’s behind it.
(pushes button, picture
rises up, to reveal second picture set in wall)
What do you think?

PHILIP:
... And this one’s the Rembrandt is
it?

CHIEF:
It is.

PHILIP:
Oh, oh Chief, oh oh oh
Chief......
it’s exquisite Sir, quite exquisite ...

CHIEF:
The light and the colour good?

PHILIP:
Terrific.

CHlEF:
Good, because this pretty little
Dutch girl cost me seventy-two million pounds.
(general gasp)
I think
they saw me coming, what do you think?

PHILIP:
We-ell, I suppose it is a
substantial
wad
to lay out for a piccy, but you’re a ‘can do, must have’
kind of guy Sir. Sandy?

SANDY:
When Sir Chiffley Lockheart says ‘I
want’, the price tag does
not
have a seat at the negotiating table.