American Gothic

"American Gothic" by Grant Wood 1928




American Gothic

A ten minute play
by

Cortney Bledsoe


CHARACTERS
Mortimer (Mort) – Crotchety old man. Dressed in overalls, with a white shirt and a
black suit jacket. Modeled after the Amish.
Elsa – Mortimer's wife. She's a little more levelheaded than him. Has a good
heart. Dressed in a dark dress, modeled after Amish style clothing.
Long Haired Hippy (Grant Wood) – a painter trying to capture some fleeting
glimpse of rural Americana.





TIME
Present Day





PLACE
Southern Ohio





*These characters and events are modeled from Wood's painting, "American Gothic."







SCENE: In front of a "carpenter
Gothic" style house.
AT RISE: MORTIMER and ELSA
are posing for a painting. HIPPIE,
or MR. WOODS, is painting their
portrait.



MR. WOODS
Okay, that's good. Work that pitchfork. Show me pathos.

Mortimer and Elsa are nervous
and fidgety.

Morty? Morty my man, could you do me a favor?

MORTIMER
Yes Ma'am? What can I do ya for?

MR. WOODS
Can you stand perfectly still for me, Morty? And don't move? It's just that I am at a crucial point right now, and I need total concentration and every time you move, Morty, I just, it just...you know what I mean?

MORTIMER
No ma'am I don't. Sounds like a duck squawking at me, squawk squawk, and every once in a while seems like I hear my name amongst the squawkin'.

ELSA
Mortimer! Be civil. This young man has taken all the time and trouble to paint your portrait and the least you could do is smile for him.

MORTIMER
Yes'm. Trouble is what it is. I got cows to tend to. Luke Brigham's got a bad case of the hollow tail comin' in and I've got to see to it for it spreads over this way.

ELSA
I thought you seen to that this mornin'.

MORTIMER
Well I got to keep after it. I got to check up on 'em twice a day, see if they're eatin'.

MR. WOODS
People, please? I'm trying to paint, here.

ELSA
We're sorry. Stop moving, Mortimer.

MORTIMER
Yes'm.

MR. WOODS
Thank you, Elsa. I don't know what I'd do without you.

ELSA
Not at all.

MR. WOODS busies himself painting
for a couple beats.

MORTIMER
What's 'at piece of wood you got there?

MR. WOODS
Hmm? This?
(He holds up the palate.)
It's a palate. It's for mixing the paint.

MORTIMER
I thought they did that for ya at the store. Put it in some big machine and shake it all up.
(Laughs, quite pleased with himself.)

ELSA
Hush, Mortimer, don't embarrass him, maybe he couldn't afford that kind of paint.
(To MR. WOODS)
Is that it? Could you not afford the store bought paint? I can't imagine you make a livin'.

MORTIMER
'Specially with that hair, nobody'd hire him.

ELSA
Hush. He probably just doesn't know any better.

MORTIMER
That's his parents fault.

ELSA
(Sadly)
Yes it certainly is.

MR. WOODS
A palate is pretty standard equipment for a painter. To achieve the right blend of colors, a person has to mix their own colors.

ELSA
Isn't that interesting. Mortimer, you've got some paint, don't you?

MORTIMER
Got some red left over from the barn, maybe a little green.

Elsa steps closer to Mr. Woods. He
reacts by becoming very upset with
her.

ELSA
I don't mean to embarrass you, Mr. Woods, sir, but Mortimer has some red and possibly green paint that we would love for you to have. It's just going to go to waste with us. You could just call us your...patrons. Mortimer, go get that paint for this nice young man.

MORTIMER
Good sense to get the cheap kind. Ain't hurtin' him to mix his own paint. Good work ethic.

ELSA
Don't be stingy, Mortimer.

MORTIMER
I wasn't sayin' I wouldn't do it, Mother. I was just sayin' it's good for him to be self sufficient. Maybe he can save enough money to get a hair cut.

Mortmier starts to exit.

MR. WOODS
Mortimer...Mortimer, wait a minute, please...

Mortimer stops.

(MR. Woods chokes down his annoyance)
I...thank you both, very much for...your concern. But I have plenty of paint of my own. Now could you just...please stand still for just a moment longer? Mortimer, could you come back over here by Elsa? Thank you.

ELSA
You've upset him.

MORTIMER
That damn Hippie starts cryin', I swear I'm goin' back to the barn and you can do this your own self.

ELSA
Hush.

They resume their positions.

Like this?

MR. WOODS
Yes, that's good.

ELSA
How about if I stand like this.

Elsa changes her pose.

MR. WOODS
No that's...please just resume your original positions. Just...
(Waves his arms around in a fit of annoyance)
Stand still.

ELSA
How about this?

Elsa changes her pose again.

MR. WOODS
No.

ELSA
And Mortimer could stand like this, move Mortimer.

Elsa moves Mortimer's pose.
Mr. Woods becomes increasingly
agitated.

MR. WOODS
No! Please! Just resume your original positions.

ELSA
Just seems kind of stale, us standin' side by side like that.

MORTIMER
I like the pitch fork, though. Shows how important a man's tools are. Plus, it's my favorite pig sticker. My daddy gave it to me when I was a boy.

ELSA
No one said anything against the pitch fork, Mortimer.

MORTIMER
But you got somethin' there, the pose is a little...familiar. You know what you need to look at? That paintin', what's it called, Elsa? By that Rembrant fella.

ELSA
"The Night Watch," I believe.

MORTIMER
Yeah. Maybe that'll give ya some ideas about structure and posin' and such. He was pretty good, for a foreigner.

ELSA
Now you know what I read about that 'Night Watch?' Seems that that paintin' was actually supposed to be called "The Company of Captain Frank Somebody," or some such, but because it had this sorta...film on it, it looked dark, so folks thought it was supposed to be at night, and they called it "The Night Watch."

MR. WOODS
(Agitated)
Excuse me?

MORTIMER
What do you mean, some sort of soot, like in the Sistine Chapel?

ELSA
Somethin' like that, yeah.

MR. WOODS
Excuse me?! Hello!

MORTIMER

Now that is int'resting.

ELSA
Mr. Woods? Have you taken precautions against soot or anything on this painting?

MR. WOODS
Jesus Christ! Why are you talking about soot? Why are you talking? All you need to do is stand there!

ELSA
There's no need for that kind of language. We're just trying to help you, is all.

MR. WOODS
You know what would really help me? If you just got back in your places, and kept quiet. Can you do that for me?

MORTIMER

Now see here, Whistle Britches. I don't take kindly to you talkin' to my wife in that tone.

MR. WOODS
I...I apologize. You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just...a little high strung today. I meant no offense.

MORTIMER
I figure you're high strung every day...

ELSA
Mortimer, please. You know how excited the kids will be!
(To Mr. Woods)
Sir? I apologize for Mortimer's attitude, but I tell you what, how about we call it a day, and you can come back tomorrow.

Mortimer groans loudly.

MR. WOODS
Tomorrow?

ELSA
I didn't want to put any pressure on you until I was sure you were far enough along to handle it, but I've been thinking that that portrait you're painting would make a great Christmas card, don't you think? The kids would be so excited...Just think of how many people will be seeing your painting, then, Mr. Woods. Why, we have seven kids of our own, plus all the grandkids. You'll be famous!

MR. WOODS
A Christmas Card? You want to use my painting for a Christmas card?

MORTIMER
Now Momma, I got things to do tomorrow, too. Funny thing about bein' a workin' man, is you got to work every day.

ELSA
Mortimer, for once in your life will you just do something for me? This is gonna make a lovely card, and you are gonna stand here tomorrow, and the day after that if you have to until it's done... Would two P.M. tomorrow be okay with you, Mr. Woods?

Mr. Woods studies Mortimer and
Elsa, looks at his easel, then
back to them. HE begins nodding.
Then during the next speech he
hastily packs up his materials.

MR. WOODS
You know, I don't think that'll be necessary. I think I've got all I need here, and I can just...I can take some pictures or something, go from that. Or memory. So uh....yeah, you two can get back to...work, and I'll just finish this up myself.

Mr. Woods goes to Mortimer and
shakes his hand.

MORTIMER
'Bout damn time.



Mortimer wipes his hand on his
overalls. Mr. Woods tries to
shake Elsa's hand, but she draws him
into a hug.

ELSA
Be sure and send us some prints so we can use them for our Christmas cards.

MR. WOODS
I will certainly do that.

ELSA
Now you're gonna stay for supper, ain't ya?

MR. WOODS
Um, no, I'm sorry, I can't...I've got a...my dog is sick...I have to go see to
her...Sorry. I have to go.

ELSA
That's terrible. What's wrong with her?

MR. WOODS
She's...She's got the hollow tail...actually

MORTIMER
See there. Momma? I told you it was spreadin'.

ELSA
Mortimer, give him some gas money for the trip home.

Mortimer pulls out his wallet.

MR. WOODS
(Appalled)
That's fine. I have a full tank. I can make it back okay. I'll just be going. Thanks a lot, though.

MORTIMER
Wouldn't hear of it.

Mortimer attempts to hand
Mr. Woods some money, Mr. Woods
refuses.

Take it. I ain't doin' nothin' with it. It's just takin' up space in my wallet. Get you some a that fancy pre-mixed paint with it.
(chuckles)

Mortimer pushes the money into
Mr. Woods' pocket.

MR. WOODS
Thanks. Well, goodbye.

Mr. Woods exits. Elsa and
Mortimer watch.

ELSA
He wasn't so bad, I guess.

MORTIMER
Polite.

ELSA
That's true. You don't see that a lot these days.

MORTIMER
No you don't. Well, back to it.

ELSA
Too bad about his dog. I didn't even know dogs could get the hollow tail.

MORTIMER
Reckin' I should've told him to slit her tail, and put a little salt in it?

ELSA
They got vets up there, I'm sure they know how to treat a simple case of hollow tail.

MORTIMER
Reckon so....You know, I had always said if I could paint, I'd paint a picture a you, Momma. You're the prettiest girl in southern Ohio.

ELSA
Oh Mortimer, you old honey dripper. Go see to them cows.

MORTIMER
Yes'm.

GREY OUT


C.L. Bledsoe

Posted over on Istanbul Literary Review