Woody & Elie

You find yourself in some crazy situations. Your girlfriend has a gig as a set designer for a community theatre compliments of her ex-boyfriend, the one you displaced. Oh, gee! How exciting. Endless prep and brainstorming, rehearsals, alterations, working into the wee hours, supervising the carpenter (you got him for her cheap). Dizzying. Woody Allen—the particular item escapes right now. A Jewish theatre group annual show; a second run after the year before something a little challenging had been met unfavourably by the audience. She's German, intensely professional; Elie like Woody is Jewish, the star of the show. (You smashed a fine reconciliation of hopelessly, disastrously, impossibly contradictory assumptions there.) Elie will do Woody better than Woody does himself; no need faking angst, disabling incertitude and self-doubt. Weeks of nothing else but fretting, hiccups; an illness almost derailing entirely in one fell swoop. Opening night was long looming threateningly. Oh my gosh, can we get everything done on time? the right Op Shop props and authentic furniture? books from everybody’s shelves at home? time for the paint on set to dry? All the work on display for the gathered masses and their easy criticism. Then one morning suddenly the house phone at your mother's where you stayed the night rings. Turn on the television, quick. Something terrible. Catastrophe in New York, plane hit a tall building; then confirmed another, a second plane. New York. In the midst of all their endeavor only a couple of weeks out. Act of war. Horrendous inferno. The flying man. From the kindergarten Bush went down into his bunker. America will respond in due course to this act of cowardice. Sontag wrote what she wrote, pulled it after the pressure and recanted. Whispers of cheering across a range of countries, jubilation — that story was killed rapidly too. But they did hate our way of life, clearly. In Melbourne what to do with the show? It can't go on surely. How can it? What, after this? However you looked at it. Disrespect to the victims wouldn’t it be? For another thing what about the skyline outside Woody/Elie's apartment windows? Long ago it was decided as the obvious no brainer scene-setter. It would not be the same any more. In the midst of the grief to put on this little piece of fun?... A super graphic skyline from an architecture office in Docklands with a GINORMOUS printer had been blown further still somehow, perfect backdrop while Woody/Elie took phone calls from the girl, readied himself for the date, his best friend might have visited for angst-mulling; then, oh my god! the date herself at the door when he wasn’t really ready; legs crossing and re-crossing on the couch, W/El mixing drinks, flipping nervous chat and on his knees no doubt pleading. The details actually cannot be recalled; it was bad enough witnessing once during the performance. What to do now? That skyline could not possibly be used in the aftermath. Come on, you’re not serious? You can’t all pretend the thing never happened, surely. Maybe you can pretend about the whys and wherefores, but not that for crying out loud. You mean to go right ahead and ignore the whole thing, all of you?... Trickling details emerged of the coward pilots — on the contrary Sontag had initially called them heroes to some. In fact they seemed to have enjoyed some of the Western lifestyle and values, drinking, porn, nice tailoring. It wasn't that maybe they wanted to bring down in burning ashes. While prep for the show went on, war prep in the Western capitals. Bush elevated to Christ the Redeemer by the ally in London (the ready Australian Deputy Sherriff turned man of steel; former double-plus whimpy suburban lawyer). Remarkable footage of Bush/Blair meetings; the fawning, the sanctimoniousness. Brilliant performance beating down the carping opposition; Colin at the US General Assembly useful in that black skin, with Condie support. Cover for the crew in Melbourne striving to put on their own show. The show must go on; we could not let the terrorists win. (Yet to be adopted at the time that particular line.) In South Yarra the hall had been booked, tickets sold. Gala opening might have been early October. Evening dresses, heels, possibly there may have been opera glasses. Celebrations followed and thanks to all and sundry, including in the notes to the program the new b-friend of the set designer for something or other, infinite patience perhaps.