Most of my plays are a grind to write. Some go a little easier. And then there are those rare birds that just flow out of me from day one.
My newest play, A Fine-Feathered Murder, falls firmly in that last camp.
When Belmont Day School commissioned me to write it, they wanted a play with eight characters that were over the top but had interesting arcs. Not exactly the easiest of requirements. But a challenge I eagerly accepted.
It was a different challenge that worried me. The tone.
Mystery-comedies are mysteries first, comedies second, and before you write one word of dialogue or invent a single character, you've got to answer one very important question: what's the crime at the heart of the story?
Of course, murder is the go-to for the vast majority of mysteries, whether on page, stage, or screen, and that's because it carries the stakes that a good story needs.
But you've got to be careful. Make it too silly, and the story will lack tension. Make it too serious, and the comedy will suffer.
With The Butler Did It!, I managed to balance the crime and the comedy pretty well. The play has received rave reviews around the country and continues to get a healthy number of productions today, twelve years after it was first published.
But I think I veered too grim with Lights! Camera! Murder!, which would explain why Pioneer chose not to publish it and why it has struggled to find productions with Brooklyn Publishers.
So with this new play, I decided to err on the light side. I asked myself: What if it didn't involve the murder of a person but a parrot? And what if it wasn't just any parrot but one that could sing the entire score of Verdi's opera Rigoletto from start to finish?
Boom. The tap opened wide, and the eight very British characters who would people the play almost immediately popped into my head:
Lilith, the snobby owner of the parrot, who can't understand why only two invitees have come to the music recital she's organized.
Reginald, her long-suffering husband who thinks the whole idea of a recital for a parrot is silly.
Daphne, their Elvis-loving, opera-hating teenage daughter.
Fiona, the cheeky maid who's quick with a riposte while feeding the parrot plain old crackers on the sly.
Ashton, the pompous opera impresario who's convinced she'll become rich if only she can persuade Lilith to take the parrot on tour.
Dr. Snively, a creepy ornithologist who longs to get his hands on the bird for more "scientific" purposes.
Mrs. Willoughby, the elderly neighbor who never quite knows where she is.
Teddy, the bumbling village constable who's thrilled to finally have a murder case to investigate.
As I said, the writing went really well--it was almost fun!--and I finished it in about four weeks.
The school will only be using the script for in-class instruction, so once they provide their feedback on the script, I'll give it one more pass, then submit it for publication,
In the meantime, the world premiere is up for grabs. If you think you'd like to produce the play, email me at todd.wallinger@gmail.com and I'll send you a free perusal copy of the script. As with my other one-act commission, The Worst Fairy Tale Ever, I believe this play is perfect for competition, a student-directed production, and an evening of one-acts.
And no, I did not recycle any of these brilliantly funny gags from that dead parrot sketch.
But I was tempted to.
