London College of Music - BA (Hons) Musical Theatre Write-Up
Status: Offered. Feel free to message me for tips on getting in.
In my monologue from Pretty Theft, Allegra had just lost her father and is left with her emotionally absent mother. Based on the script leading up to this scene, Allegra has always been closer and more attached to her father, so his death must have hit hard. I am mindful of Allegra's psychological maturity, the way she has been brought up and how these events have impacted her adolescent worldview as she tells her mother of her decision to leave her family home. Upon assessing her language and the subtext, I believe that Allegra does not want to leave her mother. Allegra's objective in this scene is to reconcile with her mother so that she does not have to resort to something as extreme as running away from home. Through recognizing the various obstacles that stands in Allegra's path, I can then understand the tactics she uses to try and secure her objective.
Allegra begins by apologizing for not being able to attend her father's funeral, and immediately offers her reason - she is emotionally exhausted and close to her breaking point. Here, she appeals to her mother's concern for her own well-being. When her mother does not react, Allegra tries again by provoking her mother and insinuating that she is the opposite of "a really good mother". Hence, I created tactics through Stanislavski's actioning technique so that I can give purpose to each line with a single action verb. For example, my word for "I know, you're probably mad at me for leaving before the funeral" was to plead, and "but I just can't do it" was to confide. That conscious act of vulnerability helped me to draw out the mother-daughter dynamic in a situation where the daughter is forced to make decisions and initiate conversations. I am also aware of my given circumstances: When Allegra references her house, she gestures at the space as if she was pointing out all of the trauma that her family home had put her through
Allegra craves her mother's love, and she was ready to be vulnerable and show her helpless side in order to appeal to her mother's maternal instincts. When her mother does not respond, she reacts by telling her that "This way is better.", which is an assertive statement that places herself as the decision-maker and the authority. In a way, Allegra assumes her mother's authority. She realizes that she will have to be independent as her parents are no longer there for her. Here, I drew on my emotional memory for all the times I felt neglected, isolated or alone. By remembering exactly how I felt, I connected with Allegra by substituting my truth with hers and empathizing with what she is going through. From there, I could feel the desperation in Allegra's every word as she attempts to get her mother to acknowledge her.
Despite Allegra's attempt at forcefully detaching herself emotionally from her mother, she still refuses to give up. She paints pictures of hypotheticals where her mother would be without her, such as "I'll come back from my trip and go straight to school and you won't have to look at me or think about me" and "I'll be a no-maintenance daughter just like you always wanted" in order to provoke her mother into refuting her claims. Despite her mother's deafening silence, Allegra's refusal to disengage is a sign that she still believes that her mother would come around, even if she knows that those are unrealistic expectations. Not getting a desired reaction hurt her and she pulls her defenses back up, and acts as if she truly believes that leaving is the best option, even though she clearly wants to stay and be with her mother.
Allegra is frustrated that her attempts at reaching out to her mother is not working, and because her mother's back is turned, she feels more empowered to gesture and physicalize her frustrations. After yet another prolonged moment of silence as she waits for her mother to say something, anything, she reacts with disbelief and exasperation, then hands out her ultimatum - "I'm going to go now." I believe that Allegra was ready to leave in the heat of the moment, but something stops her, and she softens, but only momentarily. She offers hope for a better future with her mother, and extends an olive branch with the hope of reconciliation as she tells her that "I know someday you'll want to talk to me again." However, realizing that she would not get a response, Allegra puts time between them up to the point where she would one day have her own daughter. She feels bitterness and despair at her mother's indifference, but she manages to keep her emotions in check. When she tells her mother how "we can all pretend that you were a really good mother", some of that anger surfaces, but Allegra dials it down and returns to a more measured tone as she concludes that her hypothetical daughter would never have to find out about their troubled familial relationship.
In the end, when Allegra realizes that nothing she says would bring her mother back to her, she takes it as her cue to leave - and that is where she finally let her feelings out quietly as she squeezes her eyes shut and walks away. Despite everything, she still tries to be considerate to her mother. While she has moments where she almost yells or bursts into tears, she manages to stay in control, because that is who Allegra must be now - the adult in the room who is mature enough to lead her own way forward. The monologue thus depicts Allegra's journey as she grows from a child in need of emotional validation to a newly minted adult who must now learn how to break free from her perceived dependence to her mother, while proving to both herself and her mother that she is indeed capable of holding her own.
Pretty Theft by Adam Szymkowicz, Allegra's Monologue
I know you’re probably mad at me for leaving before the funeral, but I just can’t do it. My whole body itches and it won’t stop until I get in a car and can’t see this house or this town or this state from the rearview window.
This way is better. This way I’ll come back from my trip and go straight to school and you won’t have to look at me or think about me. You can tell people you have a daughter but you won’t have to talk to me on the phone or see me on the couch. I’ll be a no-maintenance daughter just like you always wanted.
I’m going to go now. I know someday you’ll want to talk to me again. Maybe after I graduate and get a job and get married and buy a house and have my own daughter. Then you can talk to her and be her favorite and then we can pretend you were a really great mother. She won’t know and I don’t have to tell her.
But now I’m going to get on the road and push you out of my mind and I probably won’t think of you until I get to the grand canyon or some other fairly good canyon and maybe I’ll cry in front of the mammoth orange hole in the ground or maybe I’ll smile because it’s so beautiful and I’m free and windswept.
But first I’m going to get into Suzy’s mom’s car and we’ll drive till there’s just drops left in the tank and as we cross the border into Massachusetts, we’ll roll into the first gas station where I’ll get some Ding Dongs and some orange soda and I’ll bite into the first one sitting on the hood, watching the car slurp up gas. Then I’ll get in the driver’s seat and put my foot on the accelerator until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. So I pull over and we both close our eyes and sleep until we’re awoken at three am by separate but equally terrible nightmares.
Comments
Post a Comment