NET Playhouse; 216; Tennessee Williams's Dragon Country

- Transcript
Q. . . .
.. .. .. .. ... ... ... ... ... Oh, yes. What time is it? What honey?
Sunday. I know it's Sunday. You never were in the clock. I wonder if I cashed my employment, I hope I didn't cashed my employment. Where's my clothes?
Looking to pocket see if I got the check on me. We came back while I was out looking for you and picked the check up and left a note on the bed I couldn't make out. You couldn't make out the note? Only a telephone number, I called the number but there was so much noise I couldn't hear. Know it? What? Hear? No, no, he's there. Where was? There. I don't know. I said come over and hung up and afterwards all I got was a busy signal. When I woke up I was in a bathtub full of melting ice cubes and millers highlight beer.
A skin was blue. I was gasping for breath and a bathtub full of melting ice cubes. It was near a river but I don't know if it was the east of the Hudson. You'd do terrible things to a person when he's unconscious in this city, I'm sore all over. I could've been kicked downstairs not like I failed but was kicked. Once I remember all my hair was shaved off. At the time they stepped me into a trash can in the alley and I've come to with cuts
and burns on my body. Bicious people, abuse you when you're unconscious. When I woke up I was naked in a bathtub full of melting ice cubes. I crawled out, went into the parlor, someone was going out the other door as I came in and I went to the door and heard the door of an elevator shut. All the doors of a carter and a hotel and TV was on and his record playing at the same time. The parlor was full of rolling tables loaded with stuff from room service and whole
trims, whole turkeys, three-decker sandwiches, cold and turning stiff bottles and bottles of all kinds of liquor and he'd been opened, buckets of melting ice cubes. Somebody closed the doors, I came in, as I came in someone was going out, I heard a door shut and I went to the door and I heard the door of an elevator shut. All over the floor of this pad near the rivers, articles, clothing scattered, bras, panties, shirts, ties, socks and so forth.
All kinds of personal belongings, broken glass and furniture turned over as if it had been a free-for-all fight going on there, and the pad was rated. Violence must have broken out place in the bathtub on ice. I remember going to the phone to ask what hotel it was, but I don't know if they told me in a hut. Let me drink of that water.
Now I've recited the litany of my sorrows. What have you got to tell me, tell me a little something of what's been going on behind you? It's been so long since we've been together, except like a couple of strangers living together.
Find each other. Maybe we won't be lost. Talk to me. I've been lost. I thought of you often honey, but couldn't call. I thought of you all the time, and I couldn't call. I went, what could I say if I called? Could I say I'm lost? Lost in the city? Pressed around like a dirty postcard among people and then hang up.
I am lost in the city. I had nothing but water since you left. Not a thing, but instead coffee till it was used to happen. Water. Can you talk to me now honey? Can you talk to me now? Yeah. We'll talk. Talk to me like the rain. And let me listen. Let me lie here. And listen.
It's been too long the time since we leveled with each other. Tell me things. What have you been thinking in the silence? Well, I've been passed around like a dirty postcard in this city. Tell me. Talk to me. Talk to me like the rain. I will lie here and listen. You've got to. It's necessary.
I've got to know. So talk to me like the rain and I will lie here and listen. I will lie here. I want to go away. You do? I want to go away. How long? Now register here. I made up name a little hotel in the coast. What name? Anna Jones. The chambermaid will be a little old lady. It's a grandson that she talks about. I'll sit in the chair while a little old lady makes up the bed. Your arms will hang down at the sides and her voice will be peaceful.
She'll tell me what her grandson had for supper. Happy Elka and Kree. The room will be cool. Shadowy cool. Build with a murmur. Rain? Yes, rain. Anxiety will pass over. Yes. See, after a while, the little old lady will say, your room is made up, Miss. And I'll say, thank you. Take a dollar out of my pocketbook. The door will close and I'll be alone again. You see, the windows will be tall with long blue shadows
and it'll be a season of rain. Rain, rain. My life will be like the room. No cool. Shadowy cool. Build with the murmur. Rain. I'll receive a check in the mail every week that I can count on. See, the little old woman will cash the checks for me and get me books from a library and pick up laundry. I always have clean things. I'll dress in white. I'll never be very strong or have very much energy left, but enough after a while to walk along the Esplanade to walk on the beach without effort. In the evening, I'll walk on the Esplanade along the beach. I have a little beach, a certain beach where I sit. A little way from the pavilion where the band plays
Victor Herbert selections while it gets dark. I'll have a big room with shadows on the windows and it'll be a season of rain. Rain. And I'll be so exhausted after my life in the city that I won't mind just listening to the rain. I'll be so quiet. The lines will disappear from my face. My eyes won't be inflamed at all anymore. I'll have no friends, no acquaintances even. When I get sleepy, I'll walk slowly back to the little hotel. The clerk will say, good evening Miss Jones and I'll just barely smile and take my key. I won't ever read a newspaper or hear a radio. I will have any idea what's going on in the outside world. I will not be conscious of the passage of time and then one day I'll look in the mirror
and I'll see that my hair is turning gray. And for the first time, I'll realize that I've been living here in this little hotel under a made-up name without any friends or acquaintances or connections of any kind for 25 years. That will surprise me a little, but it won't bother me any. I'll be glad time has passed as easily as that. Once in a while I may go to the movies, I'll sit in the back row with all that darkness around me and figures motionless on each side of me, not conscious of me watching the screen. Imagineary people, people in stories, I'll read long books and the journals of dead writers. I'll feel closer to them than I ever felt to people that I knew before I went through from the world. It'll be sweet, cool.
The friendship of mine with dead poets. I won't have to touch them or answer their questions. They'll talk to me and they won't expect me to answer them. And I'll get sleepy listening to their voices explaining the mysteries to me out, fall asleep with the books done in my fingers and it will rain. I'll wake up and hear the rain. I'll go to sleep again. A season of rain. And one day, I've closed a book or come home alone from the movies at 11 o'clock at night.
I'll look in the mirror and see that my hair is right. Why? Absolutely white. White is a fold on the waves. I'll bend my hands down my body, you know. You have amazingly thin, I've grown. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh my. Oh. Oh my. Oh. Oh my. Oh. Oh my. Oh my. Oh. Oh. Okay. Oh. Oh my goodness. Just about 50 years.
century. Practically a lifetime. I won't even remember the names of the people I used to know before I came here. know how it feels to be someone waiting for someone who may not come and then I'll know looking in the mirror that the time has come the first time for me to walk out alone once more on the Esplanade with the strong wind beating on me clean white wind blows from the edge of the world off of even further than that from the cool outer edges of space from whatever there is beyond the outer edge of space oh walk out alone and I'll be blown thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner and thinner and finally I won't have anybody at all and the wind will just pick me up and it's cool white arms forever
and take me away. Come back to bed. Yeah I want to go away. I want to go away. Come back to bed. Come on back to bed baby.
Oh it's you. Yes, yes it's me. I don't know how it screams it.
Yeah don't just stand there like a delivery boy. Nothing to deliver. Well you you didn't say come in. Come in. Come in. Thank you. Well as I came up to drive I saw you at the window then you closed the curtains. What's on there? Well I had to knock and knock before you opened the door. Yeah I know you may not fail to go down. I wonder it is.
Yes what? You didn't want to. Didn't want to. See me this evening? I see you every evening. Wouldn't be even if you didn't come in we didn't play cards and watch the news on TV. But I can't get any better is it? What? You're difficulty in speaking. Oh well it will. It's that's temporary. Been temporary for a long time now. You know what I wonder? How do you speak to your pupils in class? Or you just say nothing to them. Just ride across blackboard. No I... Well I've been meaning to tell you. It's been five days since I've met with my high school classes. Is that?
That's so. That's strange. You stopped. Well. What next? Something? Nothing. Well there's always. Well. Got to be something. As long as. Long we live. Today. Today. I did go. Do they clear? Yes. I went there. Well would you say what they say? Well I only talk to the girl. Yes. Yes. And she gave me a paper. An application. A questionnaire to. The map. Yes. Now I had to inform them if I had ever before had. Psychiatric treatment.
Yes. Or been hospitalized. What do you say? Well I wrote no to each question. No. No I know you wrote no. Well then the receptionist told me. Or that there wasn't an opening for me now. Not right now. But that she would inform me as soon as one of the. Therapists could fit me into his schedule. Did you tell her that you were a teacher? Situations desperate because you can't speak to your students. Well she was only the receptionist so I didn't go into that. But I put down on the. Yes. Yes. That there was only one person. That I could still talk to a little. And I underlined desperately. And I underlined urgent. You know sitting there in that light you could be one of your students.
You could. Sitting there in that ice cream suit. Just back from the cleaners. Oh. On the way coming over. I've passed along. The lawn of the house. And the house was dark. But the lawn. Was filled with white cranes. I mean I guess there must have been at least. 20 white cranes are stuck in about on that lawn. So. At first I. I thought I would see anything. We were. You see my great. I suppose maybe they were just migrating on their way. Further south. They probably just stopped off on that lawn and. Dark house. Just just. I don't know.
Elect new leader. Because the old one they had before. Just go in the wrong direction. No. Disoriented. Lose now through they just stopped there to. Change their flag player. I don't know. Maybe they just stop it. To feel the. Cool of the evening. Grass on the feet. For they carried on their travels. It's. Only a block from here. Would you like to go over and see them? No. You're a description of them. Well, I have to smile. But you're going to go on. No, go on. Take a look. Take another look at them. You know, I think that it except you and that white suit.
Well, the. May didn't come today. But I didn't let her in. I bolted the door. Oh, why? I want to fuss him around this place. She knocked and she knocked and she knocked and called and called and fired and she gave up and away. Well, everything is just like it was yesterday evening. Cards and all still on the table. And you have on your. Amethyst robe. With the wine stain on it. I can go upstairs. I stay downstairs. And I drink the rest of that wine and I just slip on soap. Oh, that's up.
Love for me, not tonight. I mean, I did manage to go down to the kitchen. I opened that fridge there. And the contents of which. Just made me very sick. So I know that I'm for me tonight, please. But you go on there. Fix up something, just a sandwich. And I am going to deal with cards. I am going to fix something for us both. No. Don't do that. Please. Would you eat whatever you fix down there in the kitchen? You hear? Dragon country.
Country of pain. That's an uninhabitable country. Which isn't happening, though. Each one crossing through that huge, barren country has its own separate track to follow across it alone. With the inhabitants, the explorers, the dragon country look just about them. They'd see other explorers. No. This country have endured an enjoyable pain. Each one is so absurd and deaf and then blinded by its own journey across it in season. Looks for no one. No one else crossing. Crawling across it with him. It's uphill.
Up mountain. That climb is very steep. Picture to the top of the bare seers. I won't cross into the country, not that country, where there's no choice anymore. I'm going to stop at the border of those bare seers. I refuse to go have me further. Once I heard of an old Eskimo woman, who knew her time was finished? And she asked to be moved out of the family home
onto a block of ice. That was breaking away from the flow of ice. Just to be there alone. Just to drift away. Separated from all the people who slow. Yeah. Would you please take those back? Well, I mean, take them back. Oh, I'm going to send you home. Well, are you? I told you that I was. Well, if you won't eat, I won't either. No. I'm not hungry tonight. No.
Go. I can't. What? I just can't play cards tonight. I'm sorry, but I just can't. I think you want me to go. Well, where would you go? Oh, I could go to my room. Is that room? Doesn't have any air conditioning or any TV in it? So small that it just makes you feel like you're suffocating? Well, there's a TV set in the lobby of the hotel. I heard about that lobby, too.
All those old, dying women crowded around that TV set. See, if they were getting their blood in there, oxygen from it. You know something? I think that just walking through that lobby. The atmosphere of it just rubs off on you. You come here. Look like a sick dog. I mean, it shows in your eyes, and you voice in your whole manner. You knock on the door, and I say, I open it, but you look so frightened. If you were frightened, I was just going to sign that on your face. You see, I don't have any strength anymore.
I don't have the strength to make you want to try to save yourself from that paralyzed and depression of yours. Please don't just sit there and look like a middle-aged little lost boy. It makes it so hard for me to talk to you, honestly. You know that every evening you come here with that frightened expression? I always say, oh, too, and you always say, yes, it's me, and you put that grin on your face. You blink your eyes and stuff your hands in your pocket, see. Why don't you teach school? You know, I can't believe that you even graduated from grammar school.
I think you're still in the primary grades. Kindergarten. Oh, it's you, yes, it's me. My God, can't there be some other greeting between us? You know, it'd be better if you just came in and sat down. They'll cut cars out and went down to the kitchen, turned on the TV, ate something. Well, no, we have to go through the ritual. Oh, it's you, yes, me. You force me into this monologue. You do. Slide interruptions, what's in a while? Eat that, or mmm.
And I tell you things that I've told you so many times before, and I'm ashamed to repeat them, but I have to repeat them, or else we just sit here, and intolerable and sufferable silence. And some of you say it's cool to me, and when did you say it's... Ooh, nice morning here. My God, God! It never was easy for me to talk. As long as I can remember, it was difficult for me. To talk. To put what I think and feel into speech. And even to look into the eyes of another person. Yes, to look in the eyes of another person. Yes, you always look just a little bit to the side. Not your guilty of something. What are you guilty of? What? Just being alive?
I... What? I don't really know. Well, right, right, then. Go on. Just write down queer. Don't think, just... Put it down quickly. Whatever you feel, you think. And I don't think. I love you, and I'm afraid when you fade out. Quit. Just put it down. What? What sort of changes?
You mean changes in... You or changes in me? Or changes in just the circumstances of the lives that were living. Which? Which? Everything at all. Not that's what I thought from the beginning. I'm going to be here. I'm just going to write down to him, whatever I think. What had stopped in me? See if you can read that.
I love you. I'm the hero. If there weren't such a thing as time, the passing of time in the world we live in, we might be able to count on things staying the same. But time lives in the world with us, and has a big room that is sweeping us out of the way. Where do we face it or not? Where do you think of that?
Or something? Not that? Right there, I'm not going to... Quick. I love you and I am afraid. You told me not to say not to stop about it now. No, please.
No. We can't go back there. We can't. You go sit down. Please go sit down. Oh, come on, let me see your face. It's so pretty towards me. Do you eat anything down there when you went down the kitchen? I think you just better stop by that drugstore found on your way back to that mortuary.
I hope to tell that you live in and have a sandwich or something. Make a little change for you. You know people need changes, just little changes down there. They need them. I know some people are terrified of changes. They just hang on the same old repeated routine. But I guess they do it because they make them feel protected. It gives them a feeling of security. But that can't be trusted. You know that sometimes you can walk down the same street, same street. Every day of your life and you feel so protected.
And then suddenly that street just drops out from lunch. The sky goes. Oh, God. We have to. What? Try. Not to. Think about that. It doesn't. What? Help to. To think about that. It's better to. To feel protected. Even if the feeling can't be trusted.
Well, you got through that speech. That was a hard thing for you to say and you said it. It's a little help. Now, would you please get me a glass of water for my drops? Yeah. Can't imagine.
Tomorrow. Well, shall I put the drops in the water for you? Oh, yes. If you would, please, sir. It says on the bottle, five drops. It has to be more tonight. Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure. I'll do it myself. One, two, three, four, five, six. No, you. Oh. Come on back. Come on, I'm going to tell you a story.
I would tell you a story about a man. If you come back and sit down. Come on, sit down. Well, this is a story about a man and he went past a day. He knocked and a uniform guard opened the door and he said, what do you want? And that man said, I want that. And the guard said, well, that is a very large order for such a small man. And then he said, he realized that, but that's what he wanted.
And the guard said, well, where are you documents? And you know, the only document he had on himself was his birthday. The guard looked at it and he said, you've come 20 years too soon. You've got to go back down that mountain. And you, what that man did, he started to cry. Yeah. He cried and he said, I can't go down back there. I don't have anybody to talk to it. Speak to or play cards with. I don't have it anymore, not anyone. The uniform guard just turned his back all the way. So then the old man couldn't speak. It's hard to shout. Oh, he shouted.
He shouted so loudly that death came to that door. What's up? Is this disturbance out here? And the guard said, isn't that man? He won't go back to the mountain. He's come up too soon. 20 years too soon. And that said, well, on some circumstances, especially when there is so much shouting. And disturbance. And we changed the rules and we let them in. And they did. They let them in. What do you think of that story? It's a what? Did you make up the story? No. You made up that story.
You've been making it up for a long time. Matter of fact, I think it's about time you sent it out for publication. Are you? I. You all what? Let's. That's what? Tonight, you. Tonight, I what? Well, you seem not as well as you. Not as well as what? Not as well as you. I know. I know. I know. You have everything to eat tonight at all. You know something? I think you ought to stop by on that, at that sort of fountain, on your way home.
Strike up some new acquaintances. You can have something to eat. You know that drugstore fountain. I go there to have our prescriptions filled. And I always see people that sit in there. They seem to be acquainted talking to each other. We see a soda fountain different from a restaurant because restaurant tables separate. That's what I think you ought to do. Strike up an acquaintance because you might need new acquaintances. I mean, you know, you might come here some night and knock on that door and I might not hear you. I might not be able to hear you or come down just asleep as something and in that eventuality, I think you ought to strike up some new acquaintances
to fall back on. I would just in case. Oh, okay. Oh, what? I think you are still in pain. Aren't you? Well, if I am, it's my own pain. Not yours. I think a person has the right to keep his pain themselves, aren't you? I mean, a person in pain has the privilege of keeping it done so. Now, I want you to go to that drugstore and strike up some new queens of you here. And don't go in there with that long face. You go in there with the black face. And sit down to, oh, I don't know, next to an extrovert. Don't wake. Don't wait for him to speak to you first because he might not do it.
You speak first. You just say, oh, I don't know anything. Just open your mouth and speak. Just say, oh, I heard an old owl in a palm tree and I'm dead in my voice. Well, they won't understand that, but it might make for interest in conversation, don't you think? I think what you really mean is. What I mean is that there have to be changes in this life. But the changes don't have to be certain. Well, great. One has to be prepared for them. That's one of the reasons I brought up the soda fountain. It is bright and noisy
and I would never be able to strike up on a acquaintance that are bright and noisy soda fountain. I would not know how. And I wouldn't want to attempt it. Not until a year ago, you. Was I saying up to a year ago? I don't know if it was about. Anyway, it's slowing out of my mouth. Would you like me to slip away now? Slip away is the way I say I'm dying, isn't it? Yeah, I think I've changed my plans for tonight.
I'm going to go upstairs and sleep in my bed. You know, I can still get up those days if I take my damn bed, hold on to the bed. So, I can get up to the landing and take my time about the rest of the way up. You take my advice. Strike up some new coins. You know, it doesn't have to be at the soda fountain. It could be at a bar. That's my advice. See, it's wasted. An acquaintance is not a friend. Who is a friend? You let it go.
Get yourself out of need. Shall I help you upstairs before I... Oh, thank you, sir. Oh, you know I've been sleeping down here on that sofa every night. Just because those stairs have gotten somewhat steeper. But I can make it tonight to make it up those stairs. I made it to the landing. Ooh! Well, rest here while this is comfortable, Jay. Just going to rest here while I'm going up. I'll stay down here till you go up to your bedroom, then I'll slip out. No, you slip out now. Oh, come on.
You know, I like to talk to myself a little bit before I go to sleep. You mustn't sleep on the landing. Now, you cannot sleep on the landing. I'm going to do what I want to do. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tell you what to do. Well, then go on, slip out. All right. Go on. Yes. Go. And don't forget to bolt the door. Well, the bolt is inside the door. You're right. Well, that's going to change my plans, Lou. I'm going to have to go down. Those stairs and just bolt that door myself. You know, I don't think you should be left alone here at night. Well, that's your opinion.
It's not mine. Please don't you understand that this thing has been a dreadful effort? Oh, I'm sorry. I feel as though you have lost all feeling for me. Well, that's not true. I wouldn't have even let you come into the house if I didn't love you. I didn't love you. I did. I do still. You've got to remember we're going into separate countries. You're going into a strange country, and I'm going to do it now. Aha. Good eye. Could I stay on my sofa? No. You won't.
I'm not. My life. All of it. There's nothing else. I'll go back to the clinic. I'll go back to the school. I'll do whatever. Make it so hard on me. Well, just let me stay on the sofa. No! Why? Please. Please. All right. I have to stay home. All right. Well, I, when I come back tomorrow, you... What will I do? You'll let me in. Did you go now? Yes. Then I will. If you don't, I won't. Oh, I'm going. Well, go then. Go on. Oh.
Oh, my. The sky is. The air is. I'm usually light tonight. My life. I'm very clear. Shallow water. Like, like. You know, those roosters? They're going to just throw their heads off. Yes, they will. I think it's daybreak. Good night. You have nice water. You might even stop off and see those cranes that you saw on the way over.
And you rest well. And don't forget, we are going into different countries. Yeah. Well, that better, huh? It's better, but it's harder. It is hard.
I'm dragging country, you just have to leave your last friend behind. You see that? I said I was going to get up and I got up. Both that door. Why is that metal getting up? I thought you left.
If you could help me up these stairs, please. Do you know that I can't imagine tomorrow? I don't want to go there. No, Lily, help you up now. No. I can't. Too steep. Then I'll stay here. No, you have to go down.
You have to go down. I'm sorry, but you see, I have to be alone here. If I wake up tomorrow and I bet I came down here, I bet you'd still be here. Well, haven't you always wanted to stay in this house? Well, how's your chance? Just make yourself alone. You know where everything is, just make yourself comfortable. I mean, you know where the frigid area is and the TV and the downstairs bedroom. Bathroom?
Just make yourself alone. I leave all these lights to you. I'm going straight in a minute. Was something I suppose it's still possible that you might pull yourself together and go back to your students tomorrow? Well, that is a possibility. If I wouldn't bet on it. Do you know that it's very likely that they've already replaced you at that junior high school? They've expelled you like some incorrigibles, students. Maybe I'm bothered to notify you about it. Or maybe you've been scared to pick up that telephone if they called you that I'll tell more to you. Well, haven't you always wanted to live in this house?
Haven't you? You always pay so many compliments to this place. The evenings you come here from the hotel march where you live in. You always tell me how lovely something is. The warm air and weather and cool air and palm garden. Eat and sky and see if they belong to us. Well, all right. You can stay if you want to. You wouldn't get in my way and I wouldn't get in yours either. After a day, we probably wouldn't even notice each other. You like talking to ourselves or hearing a bird or cricket outside. Of course, you always have the alternative of crawling back to that march where I called a hotel. But there's a time limit on that.
That's a pretty short time limit on your acceptance at that hotel. Under your presence circumstances, they probably already know you're out of a job. Where such things happen to people? I mean, time limits run out. They run out on people under every circumstance. Just leave them high and dry. You know something. If I sleep well tonight and come down and you're still here,
we might take a drive. I mean, just grab a cab and go to the food fair market. Fill that fridge there for you. So we can go buy that march where a hotel and just check you out. Then we could, I don't know why I can't think of any friend tonight or what we could do. Maybe it's not important to think of any further, huh? That far in the future. You just make yourself help, would? Let me just go on down and fix yourself up. Grab a cab, go out on the verandon.
Enjoy the sea and the sky. They do belong to the house. Because I'm going to go upstairs now. I just want to stay here just a little bit longer. You stay down a little while. That's that little while longer. Are you asleep now?
Are you asleep now? I can't imagine. I can't imagine. I can't imagine.
I can't imagine. I can't imagine. I can't imagine.
I can't imagine. I can't imagine. I can't imagine.
I can't imagine. I can't imagine. I can't imagine.
I can't imagine. I can't imagine. I can't imagine.
- Series
- NET Playhouse
- Episode Number
- 216
- Producing Organization
- New York Television Theatre
- Contributing Organization
- Library of Congress (Washington, District of Columbia)
- AAPB ID
- cpb-aacip/512-vq2s46j660
- NOLA Code
- NETP
If you have more information about this item than what is given here, or if you have concerns about this record, we want to know! Contact us, indicating the AAPB ID (cpb-aacip/512-vq2s46j660).
- Description
- Episode Description
- Kim Stanley and William Redfield star in the world premiere of Tennessee Williams' "I Can't Imagine Tomorrow." Its companion piece is a much earlier Williams' play, never before seen on television, "Talk to Me Like the Rain and Let Me Listen," starring Lois Smith and Alan Mixon. Together, these works comprise the NET Playhouse presentation titled "Dragon Country," produced by WNET's New York Television Theatre. Producer-director Glenn Jordan (who has directed three Emmy-winning performances for New York Television Theatre) has brought together these two plays, written 20 years apart, because of the similarity in theme - that of isolation. In "I Can't Imagine Tomorrow," Williams defines Dragon Country as a land of "endured but unendurable pain" where "each one is so absorbed, deafened, blinded by his own journey across it, he sees, he looks for, no one else crawling across it with him." Kim Stanley portrays a middle-aged woman who lives alone and has an illness from which she knows she is dying. Coming to see her each night is a shy, frightened man (William Redfield) who is unable to function normally with people and so clings desperately to his relationship with her while shutting out the rest of the world. Knowing what lies ahead she tries to weaken his bond with her. The play is set somewhere in the South. In the shorter of the two plays, Alan Mixon is a down-and-out man living on welfare in New York City who returns one night to the wife he had left (Lois Smith). The next morning he implores her to "talk to me like the rain and let me listen" and she responds by weaving a poignant fantasy in which she pictures herself living the rest of her life in peace completely uninvolved with any other human being. PLEASE NOTE: This New York Television Theatre production constitutes the world premiere of "I Can't Imagine Tomorrow" and the television premiere of "Talk to Me Like the Rain and Let Me Listen." This marks the first time that a Tennessee Williams play has received its world premiere on television. NET Playhouse #216 - "Dragon Country" is a presentation of NET, produced by the New York Television Theatre at Channel 13. Produced and directed by Glenn Jordan. Associate Producer: Virginia Gray. NET Playhouse Executive Producer: Jac Venza. (Description adapted from documents in the NET Microfiche)
- Episode Description
- Tennessee Williams' Dragon Country is a 90 minute episode produced in color.
- Broadcast Date
- 1970-12-03
- Asset type
- Episode
- Genres
- Drama
- Topics
- Performing Arts
- Media type
- Moving Image
- Duration
- 01:21:40
- Credits
-
-
Actor: Smith, Lois
Actor: Mixon, Alan
Actor: Stanley, Kim
Actor: Redfield, William
Associate Producer: Gray, Virginia
Director: Jordan, Glenn A.
Executive Producer: Venza, Jac
Producer: Jordan, Glenn A.
Producing Organization: New York Television Theatre
Writer: Williams, Tennessee, 1911-1983
- AAPB Contributor Holdings
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-7 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: 2 inch videotape
Generation: Master
Duration: 1:20:57
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-7 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: 2 inch videotape
Generation: Master
Duration: 1:20:57
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-5 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: 2 inch videotape
Generation: Master
Color: Color
Duration: 1:28:13
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-5 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: 2 inch videotape
Generation: Master
Color: Color
Duration: 1:28:13
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-1 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: VHS
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-1 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: VHS
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-6 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: Digital Betacam
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-6 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: Digital Betacam
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-3 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-3 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-4 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-4 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-2 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Master
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1821353-2 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Master
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1812577-1 (MAVIS Item ID)
Format: VHS
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1812577-3 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Copy: Access
Color: Color
-
Library of Congress
Identifier: 1812577-2 (MAVIS Item ID)
Generation: Master
Color: Color
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- Citations
- Chicago: “NET Playhouse; 216; Tennessee Williams's Dragon Country,” 1970-12-03, Library of Congress, American Archive of Public Broadcasting (GBH and the Library of Congress), Boston, MA and Washington, DC, accessed June 30, 2025, http://americanarchive.org/catalog/cpb-aacip-512-vq2s46j660.
- MLA: “NET Playhouse; 216; Tennessee Williams's Dragon Country.” 1970-12-03. Library of Congress, American Archive of Public Broadcasting (GBH and the Library of Congress), Boston, MA and Washington, DC. Web. June 30, 2025. <http://americanarchive.org/catalog/cpb-aacip-512-vq2s46j660>.
- APA: NET Playhouse; 216; Tennessee Williams's Dragon Country. Boston, MA: Library of Congress, American Archive of Public Broadcasting (GBH and the Library of Congress), Boston, MA and Washington, DC. Retrieved from http://americanarchive.org/catalog/cpb-aacip-512-vq2s46j660