'A Streetcar Named Desire' Additional Scene

A Stage Play by Ryan M

A new scene of 'A Streetcar Named Desire' slotted in between scene 4 and 5 of the original. My partner and I scored 96% for this assignment, including the justification of hidden dramatic elements.

Scene Script

A New Scene between Scenes 4 & 5

Half past six in the evening destines the final ray of luminescent glow, gently vanishing across the horizon. MITCH returns home to his mother following a tedious and exasperating game of poker with STANLEY, STEVE and PABLO. The simple building is something similar to that of a dilapidated flat, suggesting generations of neglectful tenants. The crumbling stone walls compliment the jagged pathway leading towards the door. MITCH saunters towards the door in an unbalanced yet virile fashion. A single beam of light faintly outlines the silhouette of a dusky coated cat perched next to a dying basket of daffodils. Apart from the distant sound of Volkswagens, the place holds a serene tranquility allowing the drip of the tap from corner of the ceiling to be heard rather distinctively. MITCH enters the erratic house, dressed in a cream singlet, draped with scattered splashes of oil. Drenched with sweat from a days’ worth of arduous labour, MITCH responds by mildly slamming the door behind him. The condition of the interior reiterates the ailment of the flat. The dimmed gloomy light gently exposes the damaged furniture and fragmented necessities. For the sake of his ill mother he calls out, reassuring his presence. The honkey tonk music can be heard in the background

MITCH (Loudly) Mother, I’m home.

MOTHER (Fragmented cry). God, finally! Thank you for comin’ home! Why are you so late today? I was starting to worry! (Breathes a loud sigh of relief)

MITCH (Taking his boots off). Sorry mother!

The honkey tonk music fades away.

MOTHER (She coughs hoarsely). Am I too dreary for my own son? Could you not come home at a more rightful time of day? Oh, I couldn’t bare worrying about you any longer!

MITCH Okay mother, I said I was sorry! The boys and I were just taking a rest at Stan’s. Playing poker.

The cracking sounds of the wooden floorboards can be heard as he paces into his mother’s bedroom carrying the loathsome stench of perspiration his body emits. He turns on the primary ceiling light exposing his mother. She is lying in a low, small bed in an appalling and frail condition dressed in a nighty decorated with a design of intricately interlaced sweet pea flowers. She speaks in a croaky, slow and rather strong American accent. The wrinkles resting upon her face suggest the angst of old age.

MOTHER Let me guess, you lost three quarters of your days’ pay and descended into another loud, drawn out argument!?

MITCH (Standing in the doorway). I’m not in the mood to talk about what I’ve lost, it only evokes memories of the past. How are you feeling today? I’d better get you your medication. What is it you have again?

MOTHER Just get me the liquid in the transparent bottle, I’m too old to remember the name of it, I’m more worried about what you’re doing than what I need. Not that it does anything anyway.

MITCH crosses the still, yellow room to a corner in which the light barely reaches. He finds a black cupboard and begins to search for the medication.

MITCH (Gently). Mother you must stop worrying about me. I am a grown man and I know what I’m doing with my life. You know I get picked on by the guys about how much I am concerned for you.

MOTHER (Sitting up). Those rude friends of yours can speak their gutter-mouths out, do they know what it’s like to have sick family!? (coughs dryly and loudly)

MITCH Okay mother, settle down. There’s no need to get worked up about it.

MOTHER I just worry for you Mitch. You know I won’t be around much longer.

MITCH (Frustrated). Just take your medication.

MITCH pours himself a glass of liquor from a whisky bottle resting on a sideboard. He finds his way to his mother’s bedside and sits on a small wooden stool. The mild heat of the conversation returns to its neutral state.

MOTHER (Loud sigh). How was work today? You seem quite tense.

MITCH Work is work. What is there to say? Stanley still doesn’t get on with the new employee. I had to condemn their arguments a number of times, nothing out of the ordinary.

MOTHER I don’t like those men you hang around with, they always seem like they’re in a quarrel about something.

MITCH swallows a mouthful of liquor and stares at the floor with a look of stress suggesting the thoughts on his mind.

MOTHER I want you to settle down, find a lady and have a family. Do you remember your father? Why can’t you be more like him? Outgoing and surrounded by an aura of confidence? Smooth with the ladies! Popular amongst his friends!

MITCH I don’t want to be like him. I am a kind and patient gentleman. When the right lady comes along I’m sure it’ll be fine! If that’s what you’re worried about!

MOTHER (voice lowers). Honey, I care about you. God knows how long I’ll be here. Please! Please listen. You need someone to support you. You need someone to care for you.

MITCH rises to his feet with a confused expression, trying to make sense of his mother’s words. A cat’s screech can be heard from outside.

Tell me how Stella’s going…I struggle to believe she’s still living with that animal of a man.

MITCH takes his place back on the stool

MITCH (Unenthusiastically). Uh… Stella is going along fine. Her sister has just come to visit actually, I don’t know how long she’ll be staying but she seems like a nice woman.

MOTHER A nice woman you say? Tell me more about her.

MITCH Well… she’s really friendly, nervous at times though. She seems uncomfortable in the city and certainly doesn’t fit in with what she’s wearing.

MITCH fishes for a cigarette from his silver case and lights it accordingly before placing it in his mouth.

MOTHER Quite interesting.

His mother’s frail body serves exertion to lean in further towards MITCH. Her damaged face manifests anguish, whilst simultaneously showing excitement through her grin.

What’s her name?

MITCH Blanche. Blanche Dubois.

MOTHER A French name…where’s she from?

MITCH She looks like one of those Southern Belles. So I’m guessing she comes from Belle Reve, if I’m not mistaken. I met her when I was leaving Stan’s after the game of poker. Her name translates to ‘white woods’ in French, like an orchard in a spring

Her grin grows into a smile

MOTHER Tell me more! What was she wearing? How does she speak?

MITCH She looked really nice! If I can remember she was wearing a white bodice with a pearl necklace, she asked me for a cig.

Mitch rises and wanders around the bedroom. He makes his way to the window sill opposite to the bedside and opens the frame enabling the cool night breeze to roll in.

MITCH A bit stuffy in here. Don’t you think?

He paces back towards the stool and rests his liquor on the bedside table. As he sits back down a poker chips sneaks out of his front pocket and hits the ground, in response he bends down to retrieve it.

MOTHER Stop changing the subject Mitch, did you give her a cigarette?

MITCH I offered her the cigarette and she asked about my case. She recognized the quote engraved on the side, and told me she was an English teacher in Laurel.

MOTHER She seems like an intelligent woman, how is she coping in the city? She mustn’t be used to it.

MITCH Even though she said she’s very adaptable, she is definitely struggling to settle in, especially with Stanley in the house. Those two are like identical ends of a magnet, they’ll never get along. It’s quite easy to tell actually, judging by their completely opposite personalities and backgrounds, that they’ll never treat each other with respect.

MOTHER (Softly). She does seem like a very nice woman, I think that…

Mitch abruptly cuts her off.

MITCH I’m honestly slightly confused though. She said that she had come down to New Orleans to help Stella. Apparently she hasn’t been so well lately, which is odd because Stanley hasn’t mentioned anything. It doesn’t quite add up.

MOTHER I see.

MITCH Yeah mother, I’m telling you. At the start of our conversation she asked me to place a Chinese lamp cover she had bought over the light.

MOTHER Tell me you did it Mitch. Some women don’t like the light. It can expose the worn skin under the beautiful make-up.

MITCH Of course, I said I’d be glad to, and she told me she can’t stand a naked light bulb just as she can’t stand a ‘rude remark’. Yet I don’t understand why a young, good-looking lady would want to hide from the light…

MOTHER I think she is just nervous dear.

A delicate moth flies around the ceiling light above. The room is incredibly silent, permitting the inevitable sound of a pendulum clock swinging in

another room.

How long is she staying? I’d like to meet her Mitch. Let her know she is most welcome to visit anytime.

MITCH (Uncertain). I don’t know whether she likes me though, I most certainly always come across as awkward and under-confident.

MOTHER Mitch, I am sure she is able to see that you are atleast calmer and more sensitive than the other men. You mustn’t always be so down on yourself.

MITCH Blanche appears different to other girls in my eyes. To me she is graceful and romantic. I sense she has also lost someone close from the way she recognized the quote on my cigarette case. I am curious about her mother…

MITCH is interrupted by the primary ceiling light as it begins to violently flicker on and off. He emerges from the stool intending to repair the broken light bulb. He expresses pure enquiry about Blanche across his face. He immediately tries to fix it by unscrewing the bulb whilst stepping up onto the stool. Almost in a state of panic, he frantically messes with the light in an effort to regain vision. Following multiple failures, MITCH turns on a bedside lamp, filling the room with a luminescent glow. He becomes frustrated and storms out of the room.

(Loudly). Stupid lights! Why do they always play up at

the wrong time? I never get a clear look at things!

MOTHER Where are you going Mitch? We hadn’t finished our...

MITCH turns around.

MITCH (Gently). I’m taking a bath. I’m hot and bothered and need a rest. I’ve got a lot on my mind.

MOTHER Don’t walk away from your mother like that!

MITCH I’m sorry mother, I just need some time to think.

The house is now camouflaged in the blackness of the night. The dim radiance of the streetlights can be seen through the bathroom window. MITCH enters the confined room and begins to undress. His mother’s words become somewhat of a distant blur as the jumpy honkey-tonk music becomes increasingly prominent. The bathroom door is left propped open as MITCH runs the tap of the bath. He relaxes and cleans himself as the time passes on. His mother’s coughing can be heard throughout the night.