3 Related One Plays by Edward Clinton
Comedy Drama - 4 m., 6 f. (doubling possible) - 3 ints. 1 ext. (may be simply suggested).
Property and the American relationship to it is ruthlessly and hilariously examined in three related one act plays that combine seamlessly to provide an evening of uproarious entertainment. Originally commissioned by the Actors' Theatre of Louisville, The Bogeyman won first prize in the Hippodrome State Theatre's Florida Festival of New Plays.
"Surrealistic, darkly comic."
– Gainesville Herald
"Hard hitting . . . with so many fascinating aspects, so many symbolic acts and utterances, it will make you think for a long time."
– Gainesville Sun
Hippodrome Theatre's Festival of New Plays.
“Evening One comes to a brilliant hard hitting close with the production of Edward Clinton's
dark comedy, “The Boogey Man.” Directed by Marshall New in a taut explosive style that allows for its underlying mood
of anguish and quiet despair, this is a play that speaks of fear in all its many forms. Fear and fat are the play's themes,
tightly interwoven in the person of Johnny and Fran, residents of a trailer park under siege during a night of race riots in Miami”…..
“There are no winners in this play. Each of the characters is visited by the boogey man, and each suffers loss”…. “The Boogey Man”
gives audiences the meat and potatoes of this festival of plays. It is a production with so many fascinating aspects, so many symbolic
acts and utterances, it will make you think and wonder for a long time after you have left the theatre.”
– Scene Magazine the Gainesville Sun
Winner at the Florida Festival of New Plays.
Boogeyman production photo – Hippidrome Theatre in Gainesville, FL
Teresa O’Shea, Jeff King and Kerry McKenny
EXCERPT from The Boogey Man by Edward Clinton
JOHNNY: I don’t even know why I applied. There was music coming over the speakers by the fluorescent lights,
“I Did It My Way” on organ, men were demonstrating vacuums eating up fluff, people buying tons of tiny striped
bags of cashews at an outrageous price from a girl in a smock, and Glenn Campbell on a hundred color T.V. sets
singing: “I Am A Lineman For The County.” So I fell for it, hook line and sinker. Everything was beep-beep-beeping
in a charging ahead way, so I thought I should be hooked in because I thought…winter is coming. It was October.
Grey, you’ll remember. (a little petulantly.) And I thought I might need goggles. An electric blanket. A shovel,
a snow-blower. You see I keep forgetting that I live in Florida now, where it’s warm except when you’re in a
restaurant under the vent. You see, I’ve been in a daze most of my life. I was raised in Pennsylvania.
Well, that would explain it. Try Chicago. That’s why I came here…The cold. (The both hear a sound.)
JOHNNY: What was that? (HE points his rifle. SHE follows suit)
FRAN: I don’t know. But I’m gonna shoot and ask questions later.
JOHNNY: Not the National Guard.
FRAN: Oh shit. No. Could be a kid, a bit of glass, hell, it could be a deer. I hit one once.
Didn’t know what it was till I pulled over, then I saw the tongue hanging purple all over the headlight…
JOHNNY: It’s nothing.
FRAN: It was hell. Hell
JOHNNY: No, that. That’s nothing. Just our imaginations.
FRAN: Or lack of such.
(THEY both sit on his bench rather as though it was commonplace.)