DAY II
“Confidence comes from belonging,” she said the night before.
SCENE ONE: POST PILATES
In Suburbian sprawls, one is always on the edge of a parking lot. The scale of everything feels so inhuman. There was nothing pleasant to look at. I had insisted on walking, however, because I couldn’t tolerate the idea of taking a car to a location twenty minutes away on foot, a bloated empty pocket. Advertising. Gas stations. Apartment complexes, and office parks. Names of physicians and lawyers fell in lists.
MARIA: So you’re where?
BARBARA HARRIS: I’m just waking up!
MARIA: You wake up!
BARBARA HARRIS: How was your place, was it cool?
MARIA: It’s alright…
BARBARA HARRIS: My itinerary…I gotta figure it out…how good are you at talking to people about insurance…?
MARIA: To be honest, I’m not that great at it.
BARBARA HARRIS: Insurance has gone down. It’s gotten worse. I have to get on board with that because Mayo Clinic isn’t open to everybody. I was wondering if you’d help me on that a little bit, if we could sit there, or go over there. It is a nice ride! It’s a pretty place! I mean, they were telling me that I was going to die if they didn’t cut into my heart. Honestly, four people said that! That it was immediate, and they were so angry…
MARIA: I remember but wait, hold on. What exactly do you need to do in terms of your insurance?
BARBARA HARRIS: Well I’m not sure! I have two names, my married name and then my name. My social is Sills–that was my married name. I had that for a long time and I never changed it back. And then I have to get divorce papers, which I think I have, and marriage papers…original…boring…anyway, I have all these papers…
MARIA: Does it matter?
BARBARA HARRIS: I don’t think it matters if they are smart but they aren’t smart.
MARIA: What are you doing this for? You trying to file a claim?
BARBARA HARRIS: I have to get the proper insurance or I’ll have to cut out Mayo…
MARIA: But you do have insurance…
BARBARA HARRIS: They don’t take all the insurances. I know people who can argue their way into all the insurances. They want me to do a gynecological exam, but that may be too much money under the bridge…
MARIA: (pause) So. You want know what is covered by your insurance and what isn’t covered by your insurance..?
BARBARA HARRIS: Well, yeah.
MARIA: Age-old question Barbara. You’re just getting up. Give yourself a minute and have some juice.
BARBARA HARRIS: I have to go to exercise, I’m so stiff. I was in bed for two years, I lost my muscle tone so I’m rigid. There is no point in living if you can’t move around…
MARIA: Why were you in bed?
BARBARA HARRIS: Oh, if I told you you wouldn’t believe It. I don’t know the name for it, but I ate so many nuts.
MARIA: Did you say nuts?
BARBARA HARRIS: Yeah…
MARIA: Oh no…I eat so many nuts. What happened?
BARBARA HARRIS: I do want to tell you though that I did graduate with high honors, so I wasn’t totally down the totem pole. I had a pin for high grades. I just wanted to let you know.
MARIA: That doesn’t surprise me. You’re clearly very smart.
BARBARA HARRIS: No I’m not. Especially now. Sounds like there are birds in the background…
MARIA: There are a lot of birds in the background. I’m outside.
BARBARA HARRIS: How beautiful…
MARIA: I just did a class…
BARBARA HARRIS: You did a class?
MARIA: I did this really intense kind of pilates that I call fascist pilates.
BARBARA HARRIS: I love pilates. I used to go seven days a week in NY. I went when Mr. Pilates was still alive. How much do the fascists charge?
MARIA: They reel you in with a discounted first week then you hit you at full price.
BARBARA HARRIS: I have this thing on aerial yoga…
MARIA: I love aerial yoga!
BARBARA HARRIS: Ok I’ve never gone but I was planning on doing that.
MARIA: Do you want to do aerial yoga together?
MARIA: Wait, where are you?
BARBARA HARRIS: I’m at AJ’s getting a juice, and I want to show it to you. You gotta see this place, you won’t believe it!
MARIA: (thinking) Who’s AJ’s?
BARBARA HARRIS: It’s really something…never seen anything like it…
MARIA: (I could hear a message blurting through the overhead speaker–aisle one) Is that the supermarket?
BARBARA HARRIS: You won’t believe it.
SCENE TWO: AJ’S
It needs editing, but it was a three-hour magnum opus…I’ll post the beginning.
I arrived at AJ’s. What is unbelievable about this picture? Standing back, so much. SUVs were pulling into the giant lot, parking, and leaving. Beep beep. Ponytails were swinging with juices. Seniors opened newspapers at tables. An employee was organizing the carts. I clocked Barbara Harris in front of the entrance in Christmas red velvet leggings, a polo shirt, and a Prada fisherman’s hat beige with red accents. Big geriatric frames. Rouge. Her hair was long and straight now, even ashy blond. Lighter.
BARBARA HARRIS: Hello! What car is that?
MARIA: It’s a Cooper…
BARBARA HARRIS: What’s the paint?
MARIA: I think the real kind.
BARBARA HARRIS: (closing all car doors) You’ll see how un-simple this place is. First of all, they’re so seductive. They want you to buy everything before you get into the store. It’s outrageous.
(We enter)
She gestured to the scene before us—the home and body section. She did not give me the first line. As an aside, for now, I think I learned that layers of meaning are a sign of a good piece of dramatic writing. Initially, I thought about her life approach “I don’t know,” you know, “does she know what she’s doing?” Standing here. I could straddle this line — what? What’s so outrageous about the home and body section? Everything. I am in agreement, nothing more. 100%. A, I get it, I do not like supermarkets and b, she was…a founder of improv, please. It’s the most outrageous place I’ve ever seen.
Then, when I brought this time back out, I moved through this scene with a growing understanding that she might have been taking me through an exercise, also, too. And— she didn’t typically talk to anyone in the press though that’s funny considering I wasn’t, but there’s, arguably, a lot going on, and how do I know that for sure? I don’t know, but it feels true, because, if you analyze the script, she saw right through me, and she ends up telling me she believes in me. Funny, no? One would also have to keep in mind what generation she comes from which was my father’s — he was sixty when I was born. But —it was the way she delivered “if you have a lot of money….?” I could never forget it because she lifted her hands in such a way to let me finish the sentence. It doesn’t have to be “haha” funny, it’s a scene, so step by step. “You can just shop here,” even how she gave me that line. I say that because she did see right through me. And there’s a deeper lesson in all this. Which I’ll get to, once I crack this open.
MARIA: Easter is coming.
BARBARA HARRIS: Doesn’t matter what is coming. It’s always this way.
MARIA: Do you want a bunny basket? Look at these flowers, wow…
BARBARA HARRIS: I know…
MARIA: We got candles…
BARBARA HARRIS: Nightgowns…
MARIA: Pineapple paraphernalia, aprons, we got shawls, we got everything here.
BARBARA HARRIS: Yeah.
MARIA: We got more pouches!
BARBARA HARRIS: If you have a lot of money and you…
(she trailed off)
MARIA: Don’t wanna go anywhere else?
BARBARA HARRIS: You can just shop here. Just what you need. All of this is very important.
MARIA: Monkeys. Crabtree and Evelyn–always. You can’t really have a store like this without Crabtree and Evelyn.
BARBARA HARRIS: True. Sleeping over somewhere...it’s just stuff...nothing but stuff… just keeps going...hard to believe it.
**Sleeping over somewhere: Crabtree and Evelyn brought up a clear image to my mind because it had personal significance to me, so “sleeping over somewhere” corresponds to that image in my head. I was expecting that from her, as a note, but then, improv can be like that.
MARIA: Wow it just keeps going.
BARBARA HARRIS: Hard to believe it.
MARIA: Unicorns, Buddha, trash cans.
BARBARA HARRIS: If you wanna get serious about decorating…
MARIA: I feel like this is counter-intuitive.
BARBARA HARRIS: It’s not exactly Feng Shui.
MARIA: I’m going to take a picture of this magnet: If you need anything from me, reconsider.
BARBARA HARRIS: (laughing) What does that mean?
MARIA: I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t know what any of this means.
BARBARA HARRIS: Here is Paris!
MARIA: Of course, you can’t have a store like this without a Paris reference.
BARBARA HARRIS: (reading) Atlas Obscura. Dunno what that’s about.
MARIA: (reading) An Explorers Guide to the World’s Hidden Wonders…
BARBARA HARRIS: Of course these handbags are very…
MARIA: Yeah. Panda handbags.
BARBARA HARRIS: Necessary.
MARIA: Panda handbags are very very necessary.
BARBARA HARRIS: The big one is really necessary.
MARIA: Those are for if you have a lot of things…
BARBARA HARRIS: If you wanna lean on something or you want someone to grab it, take it.
MARIA: But if you’re going to steal, why would you steal a panda bag…?
BARBARA HARRIS: It’s from a child who has like a hundred dollars in there. What are those things? Are those crosses? They have crosses?
MARIA: A long string of giant wooden crosses.
BARBARA HARRIS: My God…I don’t know!
MARIA: Do you wear them?
BARBARA HARRIS: I assume so! You don’t want the price tag though, or no, you leave the price tag on. Must leave the price tag on.
MARIA: I believe in transparent government, like Obama said.
MARIA: No…you don’t wear them…
BARBARA HARRIS: Yah!
MARIA: I mean, if you were a giant…that’s a necklace for a giant.
BARBARA HARRIS: You have to be a very wealthy Christian.
MARIA: Pious…
BARBARA HARRIS: I’ve never seen anything like that!
MARIA: I think it’s decorative…
BARBARA HARRIS: Nooo!
MARIA: Come on, like this ring of ‘old’ keys. These aren’t real keys. This is ridiculous.
BARBARA HARRIS: Well.
Speaker: Pharmacy Line Two Pharmacy Line Two
MARIA: I guess you hang this.
BARBARA HARRIS: On your door I guess.
MARIA: Shower curtain? Just in case…
BARBARA HARRIS: You kill someone.
MARIA: Like these keys, can you imagine this person? “I just like old keys, I don’t use them, but the fact that they look old, I respect that. Makes me feel like I have a lot of doors to open, but without the financial burden.
BARBARA HARRIS: (reading a towel) I need a drink. Very important. After last night, I thought I’d never get up.
MARIA: How are you feeling?
BARBARA HARRIS: Ok.
MARIA: Well, perfume. I didn’t bring mine so let’s see how this goes.
BARBARA HARRIS: See, you’re not even in the store yet.
MARIA: (sprays) Oof! I’m sorry I did that. Gardenia…
BARBARA HARRIS: No no no. Gardenia–no.
MARIA: No is right. Voluspa…
BARBARA HARRIS: Not even in the food section yet! You get lost in here, trying to find the food section.
MARIA: Who is the woman who wears this?
BARBARA HARRIS: This shirt? She who sleeps with dogs… Well, wakes up with fleas! I don’t know, something like that.
We got to the sushi, finally, the home and body section endless. All great. I was inspecting how many kinds of beer there were — so many beers! — and she didn’t have her credit card. She had to find it. She had no money. In a quick dash, we moved through the baked goods section to find a stuffed baby elephant. I had to see it. We sat down at a cafe table with it. She pressed its ear.
FLAPPY: Hello baby, let’s sing together…
MARIA: (gasps) No…
BARBARA HARRIS: Yeah…
FLAPPY: (sings) Do your ears hang low? Can you tie them in a bow? Can you tie them in a knot, Can you tie them in a bow? Can you throw them o’r your shoulder like a continental soldier? Do your ears–hang–low? Do your ears flip-flop? (his ears flip-flopped) Can you use them as a mop? Are they stringy at the bottom or are they curly at the top? Can you use them as a swatter? Can you use them as a blotter?
MARIA: Can you use them as a blotter?
BARBARA HARRIS: Yeah I don’t know…
FLAPPY: Do your ears flip-flop? Do your ears stick out? Can you waggle them about…
When the song ended, she pressed his palm again.
BARBARA HARRIS: Continental soldier?
MARIA: Yeah weird lyric.
BARBARA HARRIS: Over your shoulder…like a soldier?
MARIA: Is that referring to guns? Or an item of their clothing?
BARBARA HARRIS: I don’t know!
Barbara Harris exited in a shaft of light through sliding doors. She left me with the elephant, wanted me to contemplate it. I did. About forty-five minutes later, Barbara returned through a shaft of light with a red pouch in her hands, bringing good news. Not adjusting the volume of her voice, she announced it for all to hear, opening up her red sachet. “I have a thousand dollars in here.” I couldn’t help but laugh. I suggested that she refrain from broadcasting that information. She was concerned that she had spent all her money for the month or forever, so she called her bank on speakerphone. Back to the café table, we settled, with Flappy the singing elephant. With her sunglasses on, she asked a woman on the phone for her account balance. I closed my ears and sang “la la la” to protect her privacy with a silly set of notes. Someone asked me later why I did that, which was why I did that shaking my head to the proverbial “them” or “you” though I didn’t know that this time would end up being what I would lead with, but I’m commenting on my position at the same time. I suspected that some of the choices I made would surprise some people, but then, how do I know that? To be, it’s obvious. I would never get that information or share it. Did she have money? It was all I cared about. She had not overdrawn, and she had money. She was lighter, could breathe better. Basic boundary stuff. It’s “rare” that someone on the other side considers that, especially given she had what is known as “mental health issues,” since I’m hearing about “rights,” in that regard. Thank you. We bid our goodbyes to Flappy the baby elephant, but instead of heading to the sushi counter, we turned in another direction… I was engrossed in her chatter, so I did not notice that we were passing the check-out aisles. She paused a moment. The beep…beepbeep…beep…became the perfect set-up. Perfect timing. She’s looking around, beep.
BARBARA HARRIS: Well…I guess we better do the shopping now.
MARIA: (a rubber band snaps in my brain) The shopping?”
Beep…
We were starting from the top this time for groceries.
Someone said that she put on quite a show for you, and wasn’t that amazing? You know, what? I’m not sure if this was “just for show,” that might have been slightly true, slightly insensitive, not quite sure, but again, these sorts of questions seemed to surround her.
*
I pushed the cart beside her, she was in her slippers. Strangers tried to find an item or two.
We were shifting into a different genre. I started feeling Robert Altman in the atmosphere before she brought it up. I was expecting that from her. It wasn’t a far stretch, the line between real life and invented reality fading down aisle five—canned goods—but Harris was described as being geared like that, to begin with. “The unreality of the stage was real to Barbara,” Severn Darden said, and I’ll let that float. She was a prodigy, I was pretty convinced, which was why I was there also, just because her talent and gifts seemed to be rather mysterious.
“There’s more to us than surgeons can remove…” Alan Jay Lerner wrote the words. I didn’t interview anyone until she passed away. Apparently, literally, she didn’t become the role. This was not Daniel Day-Lewis. “You’re watching someone become someone else.”
She starred in Robert Altman’s iconic film Nashville from 1975 along with twenty-four other actors including Julie Christie, Keith Carradine, Karen Black, Shelley Duvall, Jeff Goldblum, Geraldine Chaplin, Ned Beatty, and Elliot Gould.
“And the song," I said, “that you wrote with Shel Silverstein?”
She sang it simply with a slight drawl.
“I don’t know how other girls do it,
“Laughing and having a ball,
But maybe they’re trying
I’m out here dying,
Can’t figure out nothing out at all.
Anyway, I’m going away, anywhere that I can.
And anything I gotta do
I’ll do to get out from under where that I am.
There might not be stars in my horoscope,
There may not be stars in my eyes, but I gotta let go…”
Barbara Harris dumped an armful of pinto beans into the shopping cart and paused. She was touching.“You care about her,” a journalist wrote. I read that more than once. She was talented at making you care, even about her, but then, care is part of the job of an actor, no? Isn’t that a sign of a good actor? I don’t know, there are many actors, but she seemed to touch a particular funny bone, in that, “it hurt to laugh.”
“I got a one-way man…hm…I don’t know.”
She shrugged.
“She’s trying to leave him.”
She couldn’t remember.
“It’s going to come to you,” I said.
“No, it isn’t.”
I paused. I’m not going to cover up, I don’t like it when people do that. I just held a space.
“Here’s the thing, I have the lyrics…”
“How?”
“In the Nashville book…”
I read about it in Jan Stuart’s Nashville Chronicles: The Making of Robert Altman’s Masterpiece. It didn’t end up in the film because Altman thought it was “too good” of a song for her character to sing, a farmer’s wife who dreams of making it big as a singer in Nashville. In the end, all the same, she sings the final number.
“They may say that I ain’t free…but it don’t worry me.”
Joan Tewkesbury’s script was modeled on the geography of Nashville, but Altman used it as a loose skeleton, was indifferent toward it. He gave his actors total freedom and told them “I want you to invade my movie” in a van. He wanted them to incorporate their personal experience into the film to crack through the fictitious nature of it. The line between character and actor was then purposefully blurred, as was the separation between performer and politician. Altman believed that in the public eye, they both could embody, and that’s an apt word to keep in mind, our “values, reverence, and contempt.” Even the man who kills the politician—he does it for? The fame.
And here we were forty years later with Barbara Harris by the cereal boxes.
In the refrigeration section, I was reading Barbara Harris pick-up lines from a book by the melons and she started talking about the fly-swatter that she mentioned in the film, in the truck, on the packed freeway, an incredible undertaking. So that was just Barbara Harris, in a sense, being herself with these loose guidelines. She had heard about this million-dollar swatter somewhere turning with a Puckish searching. Most of the dialogue and songs were written by the actors. They didn’t know when they would become the focus, so they had to stay in character the entire time.
Barbara Harris starred in Nashville and Alfred Hitchcock’s last film Family Plot opposite Bruce Dern around the same time. Given her background in improv, one might think that her working relationship with Altman would have been more symbiotic and that Hitchcock’s meticulous and obsessive planning would have resulted in a clash of styles, but the opposite was true. It makes sense, actually. She felt more grounded inside a stricter structure that gave her room to explore her character. I remember Brigitte Auber, the thief in Hitchcock’s To Catch a Thief, telling me that he didn’t really give her and Cary Grant any direction during a scene. I don’t know how he directed his actors in this case, but maybe the blending of all these realities in Nashville along with the direction, “you gotta be crazy, real crazy Barbara,” confused her, or she simply needed someone who could draw some lines because she didn’t mix well with the group.
This character mirrored her own life congruously and incongruously just like some of the others that she played. Passionella, the chimney sweep in The Apple Tree, dreams only of being a big, glamorous movie star adorably off-key. Harris famously did not want to be a star, but she was one. And then, she ended up playing Albuquerque in Nashville who really wanted to be a star and harbors secret talents like Daisy Gamble in On A Clear Day You Can See Forever. She played many roles, but “famous” seemed to be maybe the toughest one. That was the story. And she had personal “struggles” as they were called.
We made it back to check-out, but Harris began looking over her shoulder toward the pharmacy sign, twice, a few times. “What’s over there?” She didn’t know or she didn’t want to tell me or? She didn’t need it, maybe…”what’s over there?” Her blood pressure pills. Yes, we were definitely going over there. Now, I had to get Barbara Harris to the pharmacy in the back—a ninja, impossible, throwing out tactics. Disappearing, reappearing, expertly, even hilariously. She didn’t want to go.
She pointed at some box in the wine section.
“Is that for sale?”
“It’s the USA, everything is for sale.”
The pharmacist was so happy to see me.
“We never see you with family around.”
In a breath, she revealed how alone she was. We were standing by side-by-side. It was how she flashed four fingers.
“This is my cousin fourth removed.”
The pharmacist paused, blinked, and turned over to me not knowing what to do with that statement. I was not supposed to break. I knew that.
“Um, and the number four is my favorite number…because it’s the only number that has the same amount of letters…four.”
The pharmacist regarded us.
“Well,” she was pleased regardless.
We hadn’t even approached the counter, so we then walked up, together, because we were standing seriously back. I didn’t quite realize that.
We picked up her blood pressure pills and her anti-depressants which she had mentioned the night before. That she was on anti-depressants. “Look at the stars!” To digress a moment, since I’m organizing this material, it was the first time in the middle of a parking lot in an inky night that I reached for the car door and she revealed something about her health. That happened three times, which is the magic number in improv if not in general. Those three times told a story. Her struggles were a whole subject that I’ll leave for the moment but there’s no shame. I didn’t bring it up on purpose. Like, take a break, but she can’t. On that end, it’s on your terms.
She asked how much the anti-depressants cost copay. Blood pressure pills were like two dollars. They were over three hundred dollars.
“I’d rather be depressed,” she shrugged and walked away. I could understand that. You would have to consider that I am also trying to respect her. This was hard.
We left AJ's and headed to Two Sister’s furniture consignment store.
I stood in the middle of an oceanic parking lot bone dry genuinely impressed with her parking job. It was the finest example of an oblique angle I had ever seen. Truly. Two parking spaces. I studied this angle in school, I told her. “The oblique.” It’s an important detail. Even her parking job is going to have a grand finale. Into the store, she said something about Alan Jay Lerner being a weirdo, and how we were all a bunch of weirdoes, so what was the problem? I let her take the lead, obviously, I didn’t ask any questions after the first night. I didn’t know that it would be the only time that we would get to meet so we were getting to know each other. I did that on purpose. I didn’t have a publication. I didn’t know where this was going. I didn’t know like she didn’t know. But in this case, I thought, you know, I saw the value in that.
She sat on a used couch for sale—green—just like that. She began to open up a little, about fame, too. I settled in the armchair since we were in a living room set with price tags, customers passing us by. I obviously knew nothing about it, I said, but her point of view, without saying that, was part of the reason why I wanted to meet her. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said the night before, the two of us in a piece of home for sale. “Confidence comes from belonging.” That was the thesis statement of her life. (I’ll have to edit these sections, but she spoke for a while on a set in real life…) I had to be “honest,” no? Again, in my position, which I did on purpose. I had no idea what fame is.
We meandered over to the Two Sisters clothing store next. An employee approached us the second we walked in and the fame thread continued.
“Did you know that she was once a big star…?”
She turned to me.
It made me a little angry though I let that go because why would I get wrapped up or have a personal take on this but still. Uh, what a strange thing to say to someone. Was? Barbara said that we liked to tell people that we were cousins fourth removed. “We kid.” I spoke to Estelle Parsons later who starred in Brecht and Weill’s Mahagonny with Harris in 1970. She told me that Harris had taken her to a second-hand store in Chicago. Barbara Harris liked second-hand stores. So did I. We went through the racks in our separate universes, and I started trying on clothes. She was observing the shoes on display when I came out in a dress. She beamed. I had to get it. I didn’t. I would. She made me.
I found a comment that someone made about Mahagonny along with a recording.
I saw her play Jenny in the ill-fated Mahagonny with Estelle Parsons as Begbick and Dave van Ronk as Jimmy. She was really the best thing in the show—very fragile, but with steel underneath. I heard later that Lenya sued the producers—not sure where that went.
I don’t know what to say about her fragility but I heard that adjective used so often to describe her. She was delicate, someone else corrected, “which is not the same thing.” Her fragility, all the same, or delicateness appeared to be part of the appeal. Also, I thought about what we tend to focus on. Looking out the shop windows across the expanse of this parking lot, she was “transparent,” someone said, known for her stunning vulnerability which translated offstage to impenetrability. But considering her struggles, however, wouldn’t that make sense? She was also from a different time, maybe ahead of her time. Imagine that “your struggles” suddenly held the key to—not only to your gift—but your massive success before anybody was really talking about “mental health” and there’s no shame in it. What was that steel underneath? We say that vulnerability is the true sign of strength if not courage.
Her Academy-Award-nominated monologue comes to mind from Who is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying All Those Awful Things About Me.
“Playing the clown…trying to drown…”
I mentioned that I had studied a little clown since the archetype seemed to appear around her as well, but how do I know what lands for a person and what doesn’t? People have told me all sorts of things that did not resonate at all, though they would say “it’s true,” and what sense does that make? I must admit, because I came from a complicated background that boundaries were a journey for me. So I know you can get lost in “the perspective” of another.
She said that she could relate to that.
“What does that mean to you?”
“Misunderstood.”
She had real struggles, she did. And they, even hilariously, make her even more relevant. I thought about that later. I feel that she might even be embraced today for her whole person which is really the goal in healing or a successful psychological process. A whole person.
I’ll leave that for now since this material is still raw, and I’m figuring out what to do with it — it’s already a script so who cares about my blah blah blah, but then, I had to laugh, ready to do a chapter about the evolution of psychiatric care if not psychological approaches over the twentieth century. Healing is available to anyone. As a thought, for some, that might already be rather impactful. Go Barbara Harris — go Barbara Harris. So relevant. I felt like I had to work through so much energetically, as an aside, since our conversation, amazingly, didn’t seem to end…truly, but I suppose a person is still real, even if they pass, so there seemed to be a lot of pressure on her around her illness. And I only wish her relief. Treating someone with care is not the same as shame, it’s just that, this is complex for several reasons. The idea that I wouldn’t approach this subject with care is understandable, given how disrespectful people can be. So, yes, I’m ready to speak about “the issues.” I just don’t think shame works.
Onto the next scene.
SCENE FIVE
(BARBARA and MARIA eat sushi on her bed, Chobani standing by)
VOICEOVER
In the criminal justice system…sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous.
In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.
(SUV CHANGE OF SCENE)
DETECTIVE I
That’s a lot of t-shirts…
MARIA. So, somebody got murdered by a schizophrenic guy who also has a t-shirt business?
BARBARA. Hm…
MARIA. When you’re watching actors, like these people…
DETECTIVE I
We’ve got some questions about Grand and Bob Cockner.
(BARBARA and MARIA FREEZE)
JONAH
Why?
DETECTIVE I
Did you know they tried to shut down the entire clothing business a few days before the murders?
JONAH
They wouldn’t do that…
BARBARA. Is he the one who is psychotic or…?
MARIA. Yeah.
BARBARA. Is he playing psychotic? I mean, he looks a little strange but…
DETECTIVE I
Were you involved in a government operation?
MARIA. I don’t really know…
JONAH
(laughing)
No, it’s a t-shirt business
MARIA. What is up with the t-shirts?
DETECTIVE I
We work for the government too you know…
JONAH
Well, you know, there’s the government, then, there’s the government…
BARBARA: So he’s gotta get the money from…
JONAH
It’s a need-to-know basis. They need. To know.
BARBARA. Is that Jonah? The psychotic?
MARIA. Yeah.
(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)
DETECTIVE II
(on a computer)
Look at this…
DETECTIVE II
The old knife sheath of his that the police found?
(BARBARA and MARIA FREEZE)
DETECTIVE II
…It had DNA inside that matches five of the serial killer’s previous victims.
DETECTIVE I
Jonah Applebaum is…
MARIA. Uh oh…
the box car basher?
BARBARA. (high-pitched) The box car basher?!
(SUV CHANGE OF SCENE)
CHIEF
I’m worried about everything. Worried him about killing someone else, about the way this office is run, a serial killer in our hands and then released–am I being too picky?
MARIA. (laughing)
BARBARA. (mildly amused)
(SUV CHANGE OF SCENE)
PROSECUTORS
Mr. Applebaum is also the suspect for eight other murders.
JUDGE
But not the three from the other day?
BARBARA. Three?!
PROSECUTORS
No.
JUDGE
Well, I guess I’m going to have to buy myself a score card. Alright, the charges are dismissed. We’re going to keep Mr. Applebaum in a mental health unit.
BARBARA. Mental health unit is like jail but…
JUDGE
A witness who committed NINE murders identical to the ones charged here?
BARBARA. (amused)
(LAW AND ORDER CHANGE OF SCENE)
DETECTIVE
Your missions, Jonah, they involved killing people.
JONAH
What part of "I’m not at liberty to discuss it,” do you not understand?
BARBARA. Doesn’t sound psychotic to me…
DETECTIVE
You told your friends that the KGB tried to kill you…
BARBARA. (interested) hm…
JONAH
I’m still here.
MARIA. How do you play someone who is crazy?
BARBARA. You don’t! Let them think you’re crazy. Be a scientist in your head or something.
MARIA. (laughing) Be a scientist of seagulls!
BARBARA. Why are you always wearing black?
MARIA. The SEAGULL.
BARBARA. Oh, I’m the seagull, yes, yes. Oh yes, yes, I am the seagull, hard to do. She really does though. Isolation is terrible.
X
So he’s not completely crazy? He believed it was a cover…
X
The jury won’t buy any of this if he starts ranting about the KGB. What about anti-psychotic drugs?
X
They could make a difference but he refuses to take them.
X
We cannot make him unless he’s a threat to himself.
BARBARA. Unless he wants to…
X
Are you sure that’s a good idea?
BARBARA. What can they do? They can’t do both…
JONAH
I thought they were protecting me from the Russians…now I realize they were getting ready to kill me.
BARBARA. They mentioned the Russians. I guess that’s some sort of giveaway…the Russians…I guess you’re crazy if you believe in the Russians.
JUDGE
When you were 25 years old, were you diagnosed with a mental illness?
JONAH
Yes. It wasn’t true.
JUDGE
What was the false diagnosis?
JONAH
Schizophrenia, paranoid type, it was a lie…they…they had a Russian doctor there!
JUDGE
You’re a diagnosed, paranoid schizophrenic, and you’re telling us someone was following you?
DEFENSE
Objection!
BARBARA. Now he’s acting nuts…what’s schizophrenia again?
MARIA. Well, there are many tyyyyypes of schizophrenia but it can involve multiple personalities.
(which it doesn’t…this is a common misconception about schizophrenia but it’s more related to her…since I heard that, a, b, I’m not sure…what she was diagnosed with and if it was the right diagnosis….)
BARBARA. Sounds like me.
MARIA. What multiple personalities?
BARBARA. (chewing Chobani) Yeah.
MARIA. (laughter) Barbara…what is up with this sleeping bag on your bed?
BARBARA. Oh, when I don’t feel like making the bed. I just sleep in the bag. I used to bring this over to people’s houses so they wouldn’t have to make the bed.
MARIA. No!
JONAH
I’m still here, I’m still here!
BARBARA. Now he’s crazy…
JONAH
I know what’s going on!
BARBARA. I think paranoia is very helpful. There’s something right about paranoia.
MARIA. Why?
BARBARA. (changes channels) Because if you feel something is weird, sometimes it is.
(BREAK TO COMMERCIAL)
COMMERICAL
Hi I’m Taylor…
BARBARA. Now who is this?
COMMERCIAL
…And I have to show you a true beauty innovation.
BARBARA. Oh, I know…
COMMERCIAL
Three-second LASH.
BARBARA. (Changes channels, scratches her brow) I did it, but I didn’t want to take the time…
COMMERCIAL
(female duet country song)
“Ohhhh you want me to help you…”
BARBARA. (Changes channels) K.
COMMERCIAL
These pieces…that you can use them…
BARBARA. (Changes channels) No.
COMMERCIAL
I’ll have one of these nuts…
BARBARA. I do like this.
TV SHOW
What about Teddy…
BARBARA. Talk about crazy…
MARIA. Charlie Sheen?
TV SHOW
As I said, Teddy is fine but there are some areas in which he doesn’t measure up…to Hugo…
BARBARA. (Changes channels) Ha.
MARIA. Ha.
MARIA. Look at that dapper George Carlin!
BARBARA. (Changes channels) I don’t know him.
MARIA. Wait! Stop!
GEORGE CARLIN
Due to the fact I work most of the time at night, I get to see a lot of daytime television. And for the sake of you guys in the audience who are at the office all day long, I’d like to give you a little example of what takes place on your TV set in the afternoon. We’ll start with the newscast.
(Pop sound)
GEORGE CARLIN
(Newscaster)
Russian and the United States are at war. Missiles have been fired on both sides. Washington and Moscow are in flames. Details on these, and other stories, in just a moment…
MARIA. (laughter)
BARBARA. (Changes channels) I know…
COMMERCIAL
If your moderate to severe Ulcerative Colitis or Cron symptoms… are holding you back…
BARBARA. Oh no…
COMMERCIAL
…if you’re current treatment hasn’t worked well enough…
BARBARA. Oh, what is this?
COMMERCIAL
…it may be time for a change…Ask your doctor about Antivia, the only…
BARBARA. I don’t want to buy any of these drugs…I hate those.
COMMERCIAL
…works at the sight of inflammation in the GI tract…
MARIA. I get that.
BARBARA (scratching her brow) But you have to deal with it…
MARIA. Do you deal with it?
COMMERCIAL
…May increase risk of infection, which can be serious, PML, or greater serious potential fatal brain infection…
BARBARA. Well, they helped me a lot too…the anti-depressants. It did.
MARIA. How long have you been on them?
BARBARA. Too long, but they really should take you off of it.
MARIA. I agree.
COMMERCIAL
It’s gotta be Tide.
BARBARA. They don’t give you enough time to know, to let you get off them, or to take them away very, very slowly if you’re in a good position where you’re steady…I’m never steady here (laughs)… I don’t have a life here, so.
COMMERCIAL
Termites?
MARIA. And you don’t want to move?
BARBARA. I wouldn’t mind, I just don’t know where I’d go. I have such a beautiful apartment. I would hate to go back to New York and live on the fifth floor, in one closet, for 10,000 dollars a month, I don’t know.
COMMERCIAL
Nothing but hard work….you’re closer to the farm than you think…
MARIA. (pointing) I like what you have written over there. "Confidence comes from belonging.”
BARBARA. It does, I think so. I really do. I think that makes sense.
COMMERCIAL
Hi, this is Jonathan. I’m Karen. I’m Lisa. Looking for a real relationship?
I’m looking for a woman who is trusting, funny, and kind.
BARBARA. Mmkay. I’ll come with the dog.
SCENE SIX: Stargazing with Barbara on her porch
We did this every night, except Day III because she wasn’t feeling well. There are also my moments alone at my Airbnb by the pool, thinking about belonging, because that’s where it should be, and why? I wondered. “Okay,” I thought. I would go back and write a little and think. Her energy was so alive, impressive. You wouldn’t have suspected that she was as sick as she was which we’re going to find out at the end of all this.
But since I mentioned it: my friend wondered why I didn’t cross a private boundary with her at AJs4life. Later, as in tomorrow, she’s going to apologize that she couldn’t host me in her house…in her house…
“No,” I would never do that. “I can get my own place.” AKA you don’t know me. Not “Oh that’s okay.” In my opinion, it’s not. I don’t know you. That was my instinct with her. Boundaries. I suppose I had to learn that myself. Complicated in my case, and I suspect it was the same with her, though our reasons might be different.
If you think about it — my friend suggested that it was alright to cross that line — maybe not publically, but still — and then, pretty much, in the next scene, I heard that she’s no longer a star, you see, and I couldn’t quite gauge what the point was in saying that. It wouldn’t be the last.
She made her choices, of course, she did.
Psychologically, that’s important to establish, I think, but I’m talking eight years later. I found her to be rather remarkable from that standpoint, so I’ll continue thinking about that, though I don’t know what this time will end up being because I like the four days as is. You get all that, I think. It’s already a script or a dramatic piece of writing, but I’ll be putting together a book proposal this year since I can veer into chapters off of these scenes so naturally, it’s more or less set up. I suppose I anticipated that real life was going to elevate itself to a work of art. I just tried to be there. If it turns out her struggles make her significant on a whole other level, that just goes to show how amazing she was. I feel like this story could really be relevant. I have some avenues to check out.
Stargazing…I told her that it takes a hundred years for the stars to reach present time, so we’re seeing a snapshot of the past reaching for us. That’s history. A generation.
Oh, and also, just to slip this in. I had a dream this past Christmas morning. Barbara Harris was being honored on stage, and Steve Martin came into the room on a chariot with red roses for her. I was so moved, in this dream, in the audience, smiling, so I keep getting these little signs, and I hope that means this project is going to go well. She’s a real legend, so you would hope that it would, and I feel honored to have the chance to tell this story and support her memory and the contributions she made as a founder of improv if not one of the “best actresses of all time,” since that’s how she was presented to me.
Thanks for reading!