Fifteen minutes in the life of Larry Weller

Larry's Party: Act One; Scene One

Larry's Party -- the musical -- comes to the NAC this week.

Yvonne Berg, for The Citizen's Weekly / Brent Carver stars as Larry.

When Richard Ouzounian sent a cheeky e-mail to Carol Shields asking to turn her bestselling novel into a musical, her reply was brief and swift.

"Richard, I never thought of it that way, but you know more about musicals than I do, so go ahead with my blessing."

She had just one request of the writer who with musician Marek Norman had earlier brought Dracula to the stage of Stratford: "Don't make him a buffoon. I love Larry."

Here's a preview of what to expect this Thursday when Larry's Party opens at the NAC:

We hear the soundscape of a party in progress. Eight people are together for a dinner party. We suddenly see a ninth: Larry Weller.

Larry:

Look around the room,

look at all the people.

People that I know,

people that I knew.

Some of them I loved, some have even loved me.

Some are here to stay,

some are passing through.

But they all

are the pieces of my life,

from the past,

from today.

Every one

of the pieces of my life,

takes me home,

takes me home.

Something has happened in this room. It's almost as if there are two realities here, one suspended inside the other. And the air around the table, candlelit, soft, breaks up into shimmering bars of heat. A mirage? Perhaps. But here we are.

Dorrie steps from the group to join Larry

Dorrie: Did you mean what you said at the table tonight? That you weren't really lost that time we were in Hampton Court?

Larry: Not exactly. I was lost, but I wanted to be lost.

Dorrie: Why didn't you tell me?

Larry: I wasn't sure you'd understand.

Dorrie: I would've understood. But I wouldn't have known how to tell you that I understood.

Larry: Was that our problem? That we didn't know enough words?

Dorrie: Or what we were allowed to say.

Larry: We could have said anything. We should have learned.

Dorrie: Tell me, Larry, do you still want to be lost?

Larry: No, not any more. I want ...

Dorrie: What?

Larry: To get myself ... found.

Dorrie and all the other guests seem to fade away, leaving Larry alone.

Watching where we're going,

wondering where we've gone.

Half of life is knowing,

the rest is moving on.

After all the racing,

funny, but it's true.

Through the nights and the days,

at the end of the maze is ...

We're gone back in time, we hear the sound of a distant lullaby. Larry's mother comes forward. Her name is Dot.

Dot: Smile, luv, smile for your mum. That's it.

We will go round and round again,

singing the songs our hearts have sung.

My Larry. I picked your name myself. I just thought it sounded like a real boy's name. Like Jack. Now that's another name I like. It's, you know, masculine. There's nothing silly about it, but at the same time it isn't one of your stuffed-shirt names. I wanted you to have a middle name too, and John had a nice royal ring to it. So there you are. Laurence John Weller. My Larry.

As we go round and round,

and round and round and round again.

Dot drifts into the background, leaving Larry to speak to us.

Larry: I never really liked my first name much. Larry. Rhymes with ordinary. And my middle name, John? A blank, just occupying space. But my last name, Weller, that I've learned to love. (As if quoting from a reference book:) "One who lives within the sight and sound of running water, a water man, a well man, a custodian of all that is clear, pure sustaining and everlastingly present."

The eight members of our ensemble move forward, and help change the time and place we're in.

Ensemble:

Fifteen minutes

in the life,

in the life of Larry Weller.

Ordinary fella,

quiet kinda guy.

Funny how they send him

where the air is high.

So send him up

where the sun is blazing.

Way, way up,

its amazing glow,

Sort of stuck

in the everyday world.

But today, world,

watch him go.

Fifteen minutes

in the life,

in the life of Larry Weller.

Larry: A cold April night like this.

Ensemble: Larry Weller.

Larry: Over 20 years ago.

Ensemble: Larry Weller.

We're inside a coffee shop.

Man: Shut the door, buddy.

Waitress: Hey, Larry, the usual?

Larry: You bet.

Nickels and dimes

ring in my pocket,

pieces of time

ring in my head.

Think of the girl

waiting to meet me,

music and light

right up ahead.

Waitress: Warm that up for you?

Larry: Warm enough in here already...

Larry takes his tweed jacket off and hangs it up.

It's so fine

to be young

and alive,

and all new.

It's all mine,

it's all real,

and it's all

comin' true.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

I'm gonna be late. Dorrie'll kill me. (To waitress) Cheque!

Nickels and dimes

takin' me places,

mountains to climb,

cities to see.

Larry pays her, gives her a tip.

Think of it all

startin' tomorrow.

Look at the world

wavin' at me.

Larry starts out. The waitress stops him, and hands him the wrong tweed sports coat.

Waitress: You might need this ... it's windy out there.

Larry: It's always windy out there.

Larry leaves the coffee shop and continues down the street.

Life is a song

that you can't

start singin'

till you learn all

of the rhymes.

They're here

in my pocket,

along with the

nickels and dimes.

Oh, oh, oh oh.

Wait a minute! No nickels and dimes ... no bus transfers ... this isn't my jacket! This one is ... much nicer. The lining. The buttons. Leather, the real thing. So this is what Harris Tweed is supposed to feel like. How was I supposed to know? I never knew anyone even wore Harris Tweed anymore.

Hector, a clothing salesman, joins Dot at Larry's side.

Hector: Believe me, lady, that's value for money. It's a classic.

Dot: It won't show the dirt.

Hector: It'll never go out of style.

Dot: I like this nubby-dubby cloth. It's smooth and rough at the same time...

Hector: Heavy, but also light.

Dot: With these soft little hairs riding on top of the weave.

Larry: It's not very... dressy.

Dot: Laurence John Weller, you are graduating from Red River College with your Floral Arts Diploma. I want something you'll get plenty of use out of.

Hector: And this jacket! Not only could you wear it to work, but you could even wear it to a do at the Prime Minister's.

Dot: Could you now?

Hector: Absolutely.

Dot and Hector drift back. Larry's on the street again.

Larry: I hated that old jacket, but this one makes me feel different. Sure, I'm still just Larry Weller, I'm a floral designer, 26 years old, and I'm walking down Notre Dame Avenue in the city of Winnipeg in the country of Canada in the month of April in the year 1977. The wind is blowing, my heart is pounding, and all of a sudden I'm thinking. I'm thinking hard ... about being hungry, about having sex with Dorrie later on tonight, about how great I feel in this other guy's jacket and how the rest of my life is gonna be better and special.

A man chases after Larry, waving his old tweed jacket.

Man: Hey buddy, buddy... wait up.

Larry: What is it?

Man: You took my jacket by mistake.

Larry: Oh... it's really nice.

Man: Don't I know it.

They exchange jackets, the man leaves. Larry continues down the street.

Larry:

Nickels and dimes

ring in my pocket,

pieces of time

ring in my head.

Think of the girl

waitin' to meet me,

music and light

right up ahead,

right up ahead,

right up ahead!

He spots Dorrie and runs into her arms.

Dorrie...!

Dorrie: I love you, Larry.

© Richard Ouzounian 2001. Published with permission of McArthur & Company.