James Dean and the Highway of Death

STAGE MANAGER: This is “The Highway of Death”, Cholame. CA. It’s sundown, chilly. September 30, 1955. And we’re on the shoulder along the road, in the mind of James Dean during his last moments on earth. Will tell the story without props, set, lights or sound. I will play the small roles and walk-ons. Why? Because I’m god and even the afterlife has financial constraints. Oh goodness Jimmy has just burst on the scene from an unsuspected place. He’s terribly battered. His red jacket is torn, his jeans ripped. There’s this thrum of exhaust of passing cars.

JIMMY (Horrified, to self): It’s got to be here.

STAGE MANAGER: Whizz of passing truck.

JIMMY: How can you lose a Porsche?

STAGE MANAGER: Flash of headlights.

JIMMY (Angry, frustrated): Didn’t that guy see me?

STAGE MANAGER: Sound of clanking chains.

SOULS IN TORMENT (Whisper nastily): Leave this compound body of flesh and blood.

STAGE MANAGER: Jimmy takes out a switchblade.

SOULS IN TORMENT: Let go grasping, yearning, attachment.

STAGE MANAGER: Marching Sounds

SOULS IN TORMENT (Hyena-like): We’re beings you know perhaps a deceased spouse or parent.

JIMMY: No closer.

SOULS IN TORMENT: Come. Leave all the unfinished business, don’t die in great anguish.

STAGE MANAGER: Marching sounds.

SOULS IN TORMENT: Impermanence is the TRUTH of life.

STAGE MANAGER: Metal door closing.

SOULS IN TORMENT: Resolve relationships. Say good-bye.

STAGE MANAGER: Loud drumming.

JIMMY (To figures, agitated): If you’re here to escort me out, it won’t work. I know I’m not alone. I ride in on the shoulders of all you dead pilots.

STAGE MANAGER: The tormented ones form a shield.

JIMMY (Breathing heavily, sad): This must be a dream. I’ll do an acting exercise, an overall sensation-like being in the shower-something that makes me feel good.

STAGE MANAGER: Eerie music like Vivaldi, “Nisi Dominus.”

LUCIA (Entering, Slyly): "Welcome to the life review." (Extending her hand) Lucia. Princess of Darkness.

JIMMY: I thought the devil was a man.

GABRIEL (Rushing in): No that was the guy who ate the apple. (Pause) I’m Gabriel. (Pause) The Archangel? (Pulling him to side and nodding to Lucia. Pause) Be careful.

LUCIA (Leaving, to Gabriel): You have 2 minutes. Then I want you out of here.

JIMMY (Fearful. Points overhead): Where did she go?

GABRIEL: To get the Tibetan Scroll of Dying.

JIMMY: The what? Where?

GABRIEL (Quickly): Gurus keep a chart of dying souls to be purified. She doesn’t like it but she has to use it.

JIMMY: I’m not a Buddhist–I was briefly a Quaker.

STAGE MANAGER: Horrid cries.

JIMMY (Scared): I can’t DIE. I’m a superstar, a public commodity. People want to consume me. (Taking paper from pocket) I have Marlon Brando’s number.

STAGE MANAGER: Clanking chains.

JIMMY (Exasperated, imitates Brando): “Stel-la. Stel-la. Do you know who Brando is? Julie Harris? Liz Taylor? Monty Clift? I’m about to have a fourth movie.