Eh Joan

So Joan Didion’s The Year of Magical Thinking has been produced for the stage. I know because somebody bought me season tickets to the National Theatre, so I get all the advance ticket booking notifications (after the Queen, politicians, double-agents, CEOs of major corporations, and friends and family of the National Theatre buy up their share, of course).

And it got me thinking (magically!) about how on earth does somebody make a play of that book? And then I figured it out:

SCENE 1 – AT THE HOME OF JOAN DIDION AND JOHN GREGORY DUNNE

JOAN DIDION busies herself making dinner. Offstage, JOHN GREGORY DUNNE presumably sips brandy by the fire.

JOAN [shouting]: John? Would you like butter and bacon bits on your potato or just sour cream?

THE SILENCE IS DEAFENING.

JOAN: John?

JOHN DOESN’T ANSWER. JOAN GOES TO INVESTIGATE.

JOAN [offstage]: Oh my God! John! What should I do? Call 911? Okay!

SCENE 2 – AT THE HOSPITAL

DOCTOR: Joan, I’m afraid your husband is gone. He was pronounced DOA.

CHILDREN DRESSED AS DEMONS DO AN INTERPRETIVE DANCE AROUND JOAN TO DEMONSTRATE HER MENTAL TURMOIL. IT’S NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN LITERALLY YOU DIMWITS, IT’S A METAPHOR.

JOAN: Nooooooooo!

SCENE 3 – AT THE HOME OF JOAN DIDION

JOAN IS IN AN EMPTY LIVING ROOM, FONDLING HER HUSBAND’S ARMCHAIR. SUDDENLY, SHE GLANCES DOWN. A REVERSE SHOT REVEALS JOHN’S BELOVED SLIPPERS JOAN PICKS UP A PAIR OF SLIPPERS AND CUDDLES THEM TO HER CHEST.

JOAN: Maybe if I sing the alphabet backwards and list the Presidents of the United States in order while wearing John’s beloved slippers on my head, he’ll come back. He always did look a bit like Nixon!

SCENE 4 – AT THE HOME OF JOAN DIDION

JOAN: I can’t believe he’s gone. It was just a normal evening. I was making dinner.

JOAN GENTLY KNOCKS HER HEAD AGAINST THE WALL THREE TIMES AND TURNS HER SOCKS INSIDE OUT.

&etc.

Actually, they’ve probably found a better way of creating dramatic action out of book-long introspection. Because surely people aren’t going to sit through a whole play made of up Joan’s internal monologue, eh?

The Stars show was packed, by the way. I guess they’ll be turning up on Nokia ads and squeezing themselves into skinny jeans now.

There’s something about fame that makes you believe you would look okay in a pair of skinny jeans, but don’t believe the hype. Especially if you’re Jack Nicholson.