FARRAGUT NORTH Read online

  FARRAGUT NORTH

  Copyright© 2009, Beau Willimon All Rights Reserved

  CAUTION: Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that performance of FARRAGUT NORTH is subject to payment of a royalty. It is fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and of all countries covered by the International Copyright Union (including the Dominion of Canada and the rest of the British Commonwealth), and of all countries covered by the Pan-American Copyright Convention, the Universal Copyright Convention, the Berne Convention, and of all countries with which the United States has reciprocal copyright relations. All rights, including without limitation professional/amateur stage rights, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio broadcasting, television, video or sound recording, all other forms of mechanical, electronic and digital reproduction, transmission and distribution, such as CD, DVD, the Internet, private and file-sharing networks, information storage and retrieval systems, photocopying, and the rights of translation into foreign languages are strictly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed upon the matter of readings, permission for which must be secured from the Author’s agent in writing.

  The English language stock and amateur stage performance rights in the United States, its territories, possessions and Canada for FARRAGUT NORTH are controlled exclusively by DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE, INC., 440 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10016. No professional or nonprofessional performance of the Play may be given without obtaining in advance the written permission of DRAMATISTS PLAY SERVICE, INC., and paying the requisite fee.

  Inquiries concerning all other rights should be addressed to Creative Artists Agency, 405 Lexington Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, NY 10174. Attn: Chris Till.

  SPECIAL NOTE

  Anyone receiving permission to produce FARRAGUT NORTH is required to give credit to the Author as sole and exclusive Author of the Play on the title page of all programs distributed in connection with performances of the Play and in all instances in which the tide of the Play appears for purposes of advertising, publicizing or otherwise exploiting the Play and/or a production thereof. The name of the Author must appear on a separate line, in which no other name appears, immediately beneath the tide and in size of type equal to 50% of the size of the largest, most prominent letter used for the title of the Play. No person, firm or entity may receive credit larger or more prominent than that accorded the Author. The following acknowledgment must appear on the tide page in all programs distributed in connection with performances of the Play, and in all advertising and publicity in which full production credits are given:

  World Premiere presented by Atlantic Theater Company, New York City, November 12, 2008.

  ISBN: 978-0-822-22357-3

  FARRAGUT NORTH was given its World Premiere by Atlantic Theater Company (Neil Pepe, Artistic Director; Andrew D. Hamingson, Managing Director; Christian Parker, Associate Artistic Director) in New York City at the Linda Gross Theater on November 12, 2008. Ir was directed by Doug Hughes; the assistant director was David Rurrura; the fight director was J. David Brimmer; the set design was by David Korins; the costume design was by Catherine Zuber; the lighting design was by Paul Gallo; the original music was by David Van Tieghem; the sound design was by David Van Tieghem and Walter Trarbach; the projections were by Joshua White; the production stage manager was Barclay Stiff; the production manager was Michael Wade; and the casting was by Telsey + Company. The cast was as follows:

  BEN ....................................................... Dan Bittner

  IDA .................................................. Kate Blumberg

  STEPHEN .................................. John Gallagher, Jr.

  PAUL ..................................................... Chris Noth WAITER/FRANK.............................. Orto Sanchez

  MOLLY ............................................. Olivia Thirlby

  TOM ........................................... Isiah Whitlock, Jr.

  CHARACTERS

  STEPHEN BELLAMY - 25, press secretary for presidential candidate Governor Morris

  PAUL ZARA - late 40s, campaign manager for Governor Morris

  MOLLY - 19, an intern on the Morris campaign

  BEN - early 20s, deputy press secretary for the Morris campaign

  TOM DUFFY - late 40s - early 50s, campaign manager for the rival Pullman campaign

  IDA HOROWICZ - mid-30s, a traveling political reporter for The New York Times

  FRANK - a reporter for the Los Angeles Times

  WAITER - (can be played by the same actor who plays FRANK)

  SETTING

  ACT ONE

  Scene 1: January. The bar of the Hotel Fort Des Moines, Des Moines, Iowa.

  Scene 2: Later that evening at a small, dingy restaurant in East Des Moines.

  Scene 3: Early the next morning in Stephen’s hotel room.

  Scene 4: Later that morning, the Des Moines airport.

  ACT TWO

  Scene 1: Later that afternoon at a campaign event m Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

  Scene 2: A few hours later, Molly’s office at the campaign headquarters in Des Moines.

  Scene 3: Later that evening, Paul’s room at the Hotel Fort Des Moines.

  Scene 4: An hour later at the same dingy restaurant as Act One.

  Scene 5: Late that night, Stephen’s room at the Hotel Fort Des Moines.

  NOTE: A backslash ( / ) indicates where the following line is meant to begin overlapping the current one.

  FARRAGUT NORTH

  ACT ONE

  Scene 1

  January. Early evening. The bar of the Hotel Fort Des Moines. The decor is faux opulent. Paul, Ida, Ben and Stephen sit at a table, drinking. Paul has a roll—away suitcase beside him.

  STEPHEN. I played you. Like a fucking fiddle.

  IDA. Now Stevie …

  STEPHEN. It’s true.

  IDA. You didn’t / play me.

  STEPHEN. Like a well-tuned fiddle.

  IDA. (To Paul.) It was the first race I ever covered.

  STEPHEN. She was gullible.

  IDA. (Flicking him off) You see this?

  STEPHEN. Putty in / my —

  IDA. (To Stephen.) You didn’t play me, you convinced me. You persuaded me. There’s a difference. I knew exactly / what I was doing.

  PAUL. (To Stephen.) Come on, come on. Back to the story.

  STEPHEN. Right. So this was what — ’04?

  BEN. ’02.

  STEPHEN. ’02. Thank you, Ben.

  BEN. We studied Cabrisi vs. Goldman in one of our poli sci classes.

  STEPHEN. No shit?

  BEN. Yeah. I even wrote a paper on it.

  STEPHEN. There ya go — I’m already a footnote in history.

  BEN. Well, it’s not like the paper was published or anything. I mean the only person who read it was / the —

  STEPHEN. (Cutting him off) So right, chis was ’02.

  PAUL. You were … Jesus … you were twenty. I keep forgetting that.

  STEPHEN. Just turned twenty. My third — no — my fourth campaign.

  PAUL. Twenty fucking years old.

  IDA. We couldn’t even buy him drinks.

  STEPHEN. I managed to sneak my fair share.

  IDA. You managed to sneak more than your fair share.

  PAUL. So the race …

  STEPHEN. The race. Tight, right fucking race. And this was New York politics — nasty. Just as rough and tumble as anything you see out here in Des Moines.

  IDA. But not as cold.

  STEPHEN. Fuckin’ Iowa.

  IDA. I can’t wait until Florida.

  PAUL. Come on, come on.

  STEPHEN. Okay … so ten days out, our internals show the suburbs are slipping. Point and a half, two points a day. Now this sl
ides out of the margin and we’re fucked. Papers will show Cabrisi with the momentum. On top of it all, the press is pounding the shit out of us. Hit after hit after hit. Including you, Ida. You were the worst of ’em.

  IDA. I was just being a responsible journalist.

  STEPHEN. You were being a bitch.

  IDA. I was being a little bit of a bitch. Not as bad as Gordon, or Judy, at the Post. Judy was the real bitch.

  STEPHEN. You were better than Judy, that’s true.

  PAUL. So …

  STEPHEN. So yeah. I’m thinking — okay, it’s over. Chalk this one up and move on. Can’t win ‘em all. Then — Then a miracle drops in our lap.

  IDA. Cabrisi’s people should have just locked him up in a padded room. He had it in the bag.

  STEPHEN. The fucking bag. It was his to lose.

  BEN. You’re talking about that comment, right — that thing Cabrisi / called —

  STEPHEN. Who’s telling this story Ben?

  BEN. I’m sorry, I …

  PAUL. So the miracle.

  STEPHEN. Like manna from the heavens. Cabrisi’s at this fundraiser out in Flatbush, raising cash from all the conservative Jews that hate Goldman. Starts ripping on Goldman, joking around, playing the crowd. At one point, he calls Goldman a putzhead. Gets a laugh, moves on. Nobody thinks twice about it.

  IDA. But there’s this AP reporter there.

  STEPHEN. Total lightweight.

  IDA. Josh Carlin, local beat guy.

  STEPHEN. He’s a big shot now. Covering the West Bank or some shit like that …

  PAUL. Keep going; I wanna get to the good part.

  STEPHEN. Well Josh, right, he throws this blurb on the wire. Little thing. Headline was something like “Cabrisi Gives Remarks at Flatbush Fundraiser.” Doesn’t make a ripple. But our oppo guys, they read this blurb and they rush over to my office. “Look! Look! Cabrisi called Goldman a putzhead!” And I’m like “So what? Who cares? So he called him a putzhead — he’s called us worse.” And they’re like — no, this is big. Apparently putzhead is Yiddish for dickhead. Meaning, Cabrisi publicly called Goldman a dickhead in Yiddish.

  PAUL. (Laughing.) I love it.

  STEPHEN. Beautiful, right?

  PAUL. You have your silver bullet.

  STEPHEN. Exactly. So now I gotta figure out how to spin chis. Problem is, we can’t send out a release. It’ll look like some desperate attack. So what I do / is —

  IDA. This was brilliant, I have to admit.

  STEPHEN. What I do is, I call up the president of the Democratic Jewish League — big supporter — threw us lots of money — and I read this AP story to him. Name was Mencken …

  PAUL. Harvey Mencken — I know him.

  STEPHEN. Right. So I say, Harvey — we’ve got a great opportunity to fuck Cabrisi here. I want you to send out a release quoting chis putzhead comment and accusing Cabrisi of anti-Semitism. He jumps at it. I dictate the whole release to him over the phone, it’s out in fifteen minutes. Then I have Harvey organize a press conference with prominent Jewish leaders all denouncing Cabrisi as an anti-Semite, which he does.

  PAUL. Gorgeous.

  STEPHEN. That’s what I thought, but it doesn’t stick. I make a few calls but the reporters aren’t biting, and I don’t want to seem aggressive or it would look like I orchestrated it all.

  IDA. Which you did.

  STEPHEN. But that’s not what I want them to think. So I’m like — fuck — how do I get this our there? What’s the one place where — if I can get this to land — the one place that will force every — one else to jump on board?

  PAUL. The Times.

  STEPHEN. Bingo. So I give Ida a call.

  IDA. And he used this sweet little innocent voice, like all of this was news to him.

  STEPHEN. She didn’t want to print it. Thought the story “unworthy” of the Times.

  PAUL. So of course you worked your magic.

  IDA. He made me a wager.

  STEPHEN. What I say is — “Ida, off the record, let’s be straight here. You’ve been fucking us over for the past two weeks and giving Cabrisi a total pass. You owe us. And if you write this story, I guarantee you — I fucking guarantee you that your editors will put it on the front page.”

  IDA. To which I said, “Bullshit.”

  STEPHEN. So I say, “Look — if your editors don’t put this story on the front page not only will I buy you dinner at any restaurant of your choice in the city, but I will quit my job and never work in politics again. If it does make it on the front page you’ve got your first front page byline and I’ll still buy you dinner.”

  PAUL. (To Ida.) So you wrote the story.

  IDA. I did.

  STEPHEN. And not only did it make it on the front page of the Times, it got two columns above the fucking fold.

  IDA. “Cabrisi Accused of Anti-Semitism” by Ida Horowicz.

  STEPHEN. It was an avalanche. Cabrisi’s on the defensive, first denying the remark, then admitting to it, then refusing to apologize, then forced to apologize. Within one news cycle, the story was being covered by every TY, radio station and newspaper in New York State. It’s running non-stop on all the twenty-four-hour news channels. Overnight Cabrisi drops ten points. His message gets drowned out. Four days later we win by twelve. Total blowout.

  PAUL. Beautiful. (To Ben.) You should keep an eye on Stevie, you’ll learn everything you need to know.

  STEPHEN. Ben’s twice as smart as I’ll ever be.

  BEN. Yeah, right.

  STEPHEN. I’m getting old, I’ll have to pass the torch eventually.

  IDA. A wizened twenty-five. You’ll need a wheelchair before too long.

  PAUL. I still can’t believe Goldman hired a fucking twenty-year-old for his press secretary.

  IDA. I can’t believe that Morris hired a twenty-five-year-old. A Senate race is one thing, but a presidential … ?

  STEPHEN. Hey — I’m keepin’ my head above the water.

  PAUL. (To Stephen.) You’re doing more than that. (To Ida.) When I told the Governor I wanted to hire Stevie. He said to me, “Paul — hire that fuckin’ kid before somebody else does.”

  IDA. And look where he is now.

  PAUL. Doing my dirty work.

  IDA. God help us.

  BEN. Does anyone else need a refill?

  IDA. I’m good.

  STEPHEN. Come on, Ida, have another.

  IDA. Tempting, but no.

  BEN. Paul?

  PAUL. (Looking at his watch.) I’d love another, but I gotta get going in a few. Goddamn security at the airport. Speaking of which, I should call a cab.

  IDA. You want me to drive you?

  PAUL. You have a car?

  IDA. A rental. Yeah. A Suburban, no less.

  PAUL. Four-wheel-drive?

  IDA. Anti-lock brakes, airbags — the works.

  PAUL. Well then, hell — sure — I’ll take a lift. (To Ben.) And I’ll take another Jack and Coke. (Looking at his watch.) Still got a few minutes.

  BEN. Steve?

  STEVE. I’ll take a —

  PAUL. No more for Stevie. (To Stephen.) You’ve got that press conference.

  STEPHEN. (To Ben.) I’m fine.

  BEN. One Jack and Coke then. (Ben exits.)

  PAUL. He’s a good kid. Got a lot to learn, but a good kid.

  STEPHEN. Definitely worth keeping an eye on.

  IDA. So, Paul …

  PAUL. Yes, Ida?

  IDA. Paul, Paul, Paul …

  PAUL. Here it comes. (To Stephen.) When she gets that shit-eating grin on her face, I know she wants something. (To Ida.) Hit me.

  IDA. You’re going to the airport.

  PAUL. Yes?

  IDA. You’re getting on a plane.

  PAUL. Mm-hmm.

  IDA. Where is that plane going?

  PAUL. (To Stephen.) You see?

  IDA. Out with it.

  PAUL. Three guesses.

  IDA. You’re not going back to headquarters.

  PAUL. Correct. br />
  IDA. You’re not going to New Hampshire.

  PAUL. (To Stephen.) Look at these deductive skills we got goin’ on here.

  IDA. What if I said South Carolina?

  PAUL. That’s your final answer?

  IDA. Final answer. You’re going to South Carolina.

  PAUL. I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.

  IDA. I knew it.

  STEPHEN. She’s on fire.

  IDA. Now tell me why.

  PAUL. That I cannot do.

  IDA. Pretty please?

  PAUL. No.

  IDA. A hint.

  PAUL. Not a chance.

  IDA. Nothing?

  PAUL. Nada.

  IDA. I hate you.

  PAUL. You love me.

  IDA. I love Stevie. You, I hate.

  STEPHEN. You only love me because I give you all the scoops.

  IDA. Well, I deserve to be wooed.

  STEPHEN. And because I got Paul to agree to your profile.

  PAUL. Which wasn’t easy, by the way.

  IDA. You don’t relish spending every living moment together?

  PAUL. Maybe if you weren’t constantly trying to bait me.

  IDA. Wouldn’t be a very good profile then, would it?

  PAUL. Probably won’t be anyway.

  STEPHEN. She’ll make it nice, won’t you, Ida?

  IDA. No promises, my dear.

  PAUL. It better be good. I’ve given you great stuff.

  IDA. Heavy drinking, chewing tobacco, lewd comments … yeah — I’d say so.

  PAUL. You drink more than I do.

  IDA. But the profile’s not about me. And I don’t chew tobacco.

  PAUL. “Paul Zara Has Flaws” — there’s your headline.

  IDA. Or maybe something like: “Morris’s Campaign Manager: Barbarian at the Gate.”

  PAUL. You should do a profile on Stevie here. He’s more interesting than I am.

  IDA. But he doesn’t have any flaws.

  STEPHEN. Flattery won’t get you shit.

  IDA. Sexual favors?

  STEPHEN. You’re engaged.