Three Crows (The Movie Version of the Altered Play)

Thunder and lightning. The stage is dark. We can hear the witches speaking, but all we see are rough silhouettes of them. They shuffle on stage.

Witch 1

When shall we three meet again?

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Witch 2

When the hurly-burly’s done,

When the battle’s lost and won.

Witch 3

That will be ere the set of sun.

Witch 1

Where the place?

Witch 2

Upon the heath.

Director

Cut! (angry) Barry? Barry! Where’s the damn smoke?

Barry

(from offstage) How the hell should I know? We ordered the machine, but it’s not here ye–

Director

Not here yet! (aside) Why did I agree to direct this fucking disaster?

Barry

As in it’s someplace else and it’s not my job to know.

Director

(aside) Go fuck yourself Barry.

Director

Susan?

Susan

I am on it, Peter

Witch 2

(aside) She’s on him. Every night. (She chuckles.)

Director

Let’s skip the witches.

Witch 2

What? We were perfect, Peter. Why ski-

Director

You were all fine. You were fine except for the fucking missing fog! I just want to pick it up from Carla’s entrance.

The stage is quiet.

Director

Carla? Antonio? Are you two ready?

Carla

Well, I hate missing out on the witches. They give me the cue to go on.

Director

Alright, take it from the witches last words. Geraldine, can you do that?

Geraldine (Witch 1)

Absolutely.

Betsy (Witch 2)

To be fair, can we all say our last lines?

More silence.

Director

Go for it. (aside) Why the fuck should I care?

Thunder and lightning. The stage is dark.

Witch 3

That will be ere the set of sun.

Witch 1

Where the place?

Witch 2

Upon the heath.

The Woman (Carla)

She enters upstage right with nothing but a follow spot. She is wearing an unassuming night gown. It is loose on her body, but you can still see her curves. She is excited about the letter she is holding in her hand..

(Beaming) This morning, I got this letter from the sisters who represent him. His agents. He's a soldier with a pedigree: Thane of Glamis. But he is an inventor of death. He’s not the type of actor you cast in Hamlet or The Winter’s Tale. No. This is the play for him. He’s a killer.

She walks down/right. The follow spot follows her.

I don't mind that one bit. In fact I rather admire it. That's the reason I would let him enter my dressing room. It's thrilling to make love to a man who could also kill you.

She spins. With her back to the audience, she shows off her bare finger.

We are not engaged. Not yet. (an aside, over her shoulder to the empty theatre) This isn’t the version you all know from grade school. We got tired of that one. Dreary and no sex appeal. We’re trying something new.

She turns to face the house.

They are auditioning me. The wyrd sisters.

Oh, just look at this letter they had him write! He’s not one to use his words much. They tell me he’s a man who grunts and points and disrobes his lovers with a sword or a bare bodkin (She laughs at the inside joke,) So it’s shocking that he wrote so much to me. (She holds up the letter, a single piece of paper.) The front is full, albeit the handwriting of a child.

Reading

Stage left, but in the dark. The audience (when they get one) can only hear his voice.

Glamis (Antonio)

I know my future. They told me my future. They showed me your image in a wet cauldron. They told me that you would be married to me.

The lights come up to reveal Glamis surrounded by the three witches. They are singing and chanting and dancing like loons.

They said things to me that I wanted to hear. They spoke of you. They said you are a dagger. They said I would be your lover. I said…

Carelessly

(looking at the witches) Show me her tits!

The Witches

They roll their dry eyes and laugh. Tits?!

Witch 1

Maybe we should see your “tits” first!

They cackle and cough together like triplets.

Glamis moves down stage center

The Witches

They undress him to the waist. The lights dim. The witches whisper in his ear simultaneously.

(as they undress him) Disrobe, Glamis. Let’s see those knockers of yours.

Glamis

I am undressed. Now, show me her tits.

The witches produce a handful of Polaroids and The Woman’s head shot.

Witch 1

Here is her headshot.

Glamis tosses the headshot to the ground

Witch 2

And here are some Polaroids we snapped as she was getting into a bath. You can see her tits in these. (she hands him the stack of Polaroids.) Nice?

One of the fates drops to her knees in front of the headshot that Glamis rejects. She slices off her thumb, and uses the blood to paint The Woman’s body.

The witches begin to sing.

The Witches

By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes!

The Woman

(Aside) And there I was: in blood. The witch is quite the artist with her dead thumb! Am I the wicked thing? (cooing) (straight to the audience.)I told you there would be changes to the script.

He wants me naked? Oh, how delightful this is!

She grabs her chest.

Glamis

Glamis kneels and touches the bloody painting.

Perfect. I could mount her.

(noticing the breasts) Her tits are perfect in your rendering, but could they feed a baby?

He crouches in front of the bloody painting as the witches laugh harder, shrieking and stomping their feet. They choke on their own amusement.

Witch 2

You are the one who's full of milk. Not her. You could feed a battalion of babies, Glamis

Witch 1

She's full of old hay.

Witch 2

She's full of coal.

Witch 3

Her breasts are sculpted, but they are hollow inside. Dead. Do you understand? You will be the mother. You will feed the baby. (aside) The baby of ambition.

Glamis

I will feed the baby? (chuckling)

Witch 1

We pulled her from an oven, and beat her with our fists. That's how we created her. The way you make any weapon out of steel.

Witch 3

Does she seem like a woman who could care for a baby? Would you trust your child with a weapon like her?

Glamis

He flips through the Polaroids, getting turned on.

She looks like a woman to me. Piece of steel?

The Witches

Oh, yes!

As each witch speaks, they bring their decrepit faces close to Glamis’s. As they get closer to him, they poke and squeeze him like they are testing the ripeness of a plum.

Witch 3

We made her something sharp.

Witch 1

Something that could be more useful than the soft wet lamb.

Witch 2

Do you want to be her lover?

Witch 1

Do you want to fill her with your lust?

Witch 3

Because she wants that.

Witch 1

Are you a river? Or are you a cup? Can you pour yourself into her?

Glamis

Glamis thrashes about and the witches step back. He looks at all three of them.

You aren’t women; that’s for sure. (he eyes them for a moment) You are just old crows!

The witches expose their own breasts as they stretch their black wings fully

Glamis

Who are you?

The Witches

Why? Who are you? That is the better question, Caldor. (cackling laugh)

Caldor

(In a low voice) I’m uncomfortable with that. (pause. Caldor commands) He lives! You unholy monsters.

Witch 3

No. He was killed. All Hail The Thane of Glamis.

The Witches (together)

All hail the Thane of Caldor!

Caldor (Glamis)

He pushes his fingers into his mouth and wets the corners of his mustache. He pulls his long beard and shifts his weight.

(mumbling to himself) I understand my rank (aside) Although I would love to see my holdings grow with the death of Caldor. I am the ablest of all of King Duncan’s royals.

Witch 2

The king will discover just how deft you are with a dagger.

They point at The Lady painted on the floor. And suddenly the lights cut to black for a moment and when they return, The Lady is lying on the bloody drawing of her. She is naked, but the blood is painted on her body. Her nudity is less obvious.

The Woman

She sits up and comes to life.

(To the audience, breaking the fourth wall.) When the stage was dark, I came up through a trap door. I got into position and stood up. (she is thrilled to be onstage. She acts demure and submissive to Caldor. Maybe this play will be about me? (winks)

Caldor

He inhales The Lady’s presence, but then he quickly wheels around to the witches who have traveled further down stage.

The Woman

Cawdor. I like the sound of that.

She approaches him carefully at first but more seductively as she gets closer..

You got a promotion. (She reaches to touch him, but stops herself.)

Caldor (absorbing her.)

Soft. (He slowly pulls her hand to his face) Where did you come from?

The Woman

There is nothing soft about me. (She touches her hips and ribs.) I come from nowhere. From these witches. I come from your desire. I am not the warm empty belly of a mother dead in labor. I am alive.

She steps back so he can see all of her

See me as a weapon. You're going to need my sharp edges. This is why they're giving me to you

Caldor slides his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her face close enough to kiss. They stare into each other. When he pulls his hand back, he looks down and sees blood.

Yes. (she smiles) I cut you. The man I love is going to know how to use me.

Caldor holds his bloody hand up to her face before he grabs her hand and presses his blood into hers.

The Witches

Married! They are one! Look at their bloody palms together! Wholly unholy!

The three wyrd sisters lean back into the darkness down stage, and they call out their raven song, flapping their wings and flying off into the corners of the audience.

Muffled and from a distance they call out like crows.

The Witches

King! He will be king! You will see how we know the fate of all men!

The stage manager was screaming to break for intermission

Lady Macbeth (The Woman)

(aside) Everything as they said. King? I dare not dream it or express any doubt. My husband will be king.

She swoons in his arms. She kisses his bloody hand.

Macbeth (Caldor)

You are a good pick for me. The witches got that right. What does your beautiful mouth say about ambition?

Lady Macbeth

That you will die like a man. Before I die. (aside) Another important change!

You will have to hold your breath so that the audience doesn't know you’re alive. But until that time, our ambition will overleap itself. It will rise like a river in a storm. It will circle us like a–

Macbeth

–like a crow! Three of them. Ha!

Lady Macbeth

Yes. The crow that flies from Hell with messages in its beak.

The crows appear from off stage. They circle Lady Macbeth. There is a mutual respect like they are all four the same.

Witch 2

I auditioned for your part. (the others chimed in with “Me, too. And I. etc.)

Lady Macbeth

You’re all too old and too decrepit and bent and gnarly like a shepherd's staff. Not enough curve to your boxy hips.

The witches look at themselves as she makes this assessment.

Witch 3

Oh, yes. You are very well suited (or unsuited) for the role. Sneaking in from the trap door like a virus! Very good.

(At this point the witches somewhat overlap each other.

Witch 1

Talented!

Witch 2

There is no better word!

Witch 1

Remember you are the weapon.

Witch 3

Is this a dagger…

The Witches

(Together)...I see before me? (They laugh hard and long)

Witch 2

But please don’t forget…it was our magic that brought your bloody mess to the stage…magic and a trap door. (She smiles. She holds up her thumbless hand.) Will I ever weave again? (laughs)

Witch 3

Poor brave sister. And she did it all for you, my Lady. You glow with your talent hanging off of you!

Witch 1

Like Tits! (they all laugh)

Witch 3

Yes! Exactly!

Witch 2

You can’t get those from Drama School. But I know a doctor…. You know, him, my Lady.

Macbeth

Shut up, you jealous cackling monsters! Be glad there are roles for old actresses like you all. I’ve seen the play done with men as the witches.

Witch 2

You are right, my liege. We forget ourselves. (All the witches agree. She turns to Lady Macbeth.) Can you forgive us? We forgot who is highest on the call sheet. We forgot that this version was about you!

Witch 1

But (She holds a finger up to her lips) is Lady Macbeth one of the leads in this play? She dies in Act 5, but her power and significance

(aside) And lines in the script

all diminish over time. Yes? My Lady?

Witch 2

Wouldn’t you agree?

Macbeth

Well, I am just here doing my best to make believe. I have not counted her lines or mine.

Witch 2

My sovereign lord. My liege. I spoke out of turn (stifling her smile)

King Macbeth

My sovereign lord? You have only one master. King Duncan. I am not King.

The Witches

Oh, yes! King Duncan (feign devotion by falling all over each other)

Queen Macbeth

My decrepit friends, we have lost the thread, yes? This play is about my ascendance. My ambition.

Witch 1

Of course, my lady. (pause) But wouldn’t you agree that your hold on your husband weakens as your mind rots?

Queen Macbeth (but not for long)

I can die a hundred times. It always happens off stage. No one sees me hit the ground. No one sees me break my neck. I could be one of the witches next week. I could play their part, too. (aside) Although I only read for the director twice before I got the role

But I could waste the play spinning the thread and measuring a life with my white fingers. (She mocks the witches’ cackle.)

If I am a witch, who will deliver my last lines before I die?

Witch 3

Oh, let me deliver them!

(Somewhat mockingly.) “Oh light! Please take me! I deserve to die! Now take me light! Now cover my darkness! Oh woe is me! Oh fie! My life! My life!”

She smiles

But who makes that lovely THUD, signaling your death?

Queen Macbeth (time is running out)

I don't make the thud, but I cry out from the wings. I terrify the girl playing the servant. and I leave my husband to die alone. I wash my hands in my dressing room. Every night. But the stains stay. That is all there is of me. I am a supporting character. I am a woman.

But this production was going to change that! Jason! Jason!

Director

(pause of frustration) Yes, Carla?

Carla

Am I still killing myself?

Director

(another pause) Is it in the script?

Carla

Well, yes. But I thought we could improv a different ending?

Antonio

Improv a different ending? You are already losing it, my wife. (the witches cackle.)

Carla

Well….yes. I thought the title of this beast was changed to Lady Macbeth?

Director

No. The producer said no.

(An unfamiliar voice comes from the back of the house.)

Producer

What the hell is this…crap? Get back to the play!

Director

(turns to face the voice) Yes, Harv. Absolutely!

(Quiet at first until it becomes a torrent!) Okay, we open tomorrow. Now, can we please remember that we are all artists under the rule of the script!

Antonio

Then she dies first, yes?

Director

Yes.

Carla

No! I am like a dagger, but I am not the actual dagger. I am the first one to kill. I am brave. I am Meryl Streep in Silkwood or Sally Field in Norma Ray!

The Witches

When is she going to die?

Director

Soon. So very soon.

Producer

I’ll drink to that.

As all of this is happening, Lady Macbeth slides off stage. She will die. She will throw herself from a great height. She will die first. That’s what’s always been in the script. And you just can’t go and change a masterpiece.

Lady Macbeth

Screaming.

And then a thud.