(from an article of Michka Assayas and James Johnson)
Actuel:
I've been looking for you. I've been to
Syd: Thanks
very much. Do you want some money? Did they pay you?
A: No, no that's okay. What are you doing now? Do you
paint?
S: No. I've just had an operation, but nothing too
serious. I"m trying to go back down there, but
I've got to wait. There's a train strike at the moment.
A: But that's been over now for several weeks.
S: Oh, good! Thanks very much..."
A: What did you do in the apartment in
S: No...No I watch TV, that's all.
A: Don't you want to play anymore?
S: No, not realy. I don't have
time to do very much. I must find myself a flat in
(From time to time he looks at the cloths, his jumble. He smiles)
I didn't think I'd get these things back. And I knew I couldn't write. I
couldn't have made my mind up to go and get them...To get the train and all
that...But then...I didn't even write to them...Mum said she'd get in touch
with the office...Thanks, anyway.
(All the while, he is trying to end the conversation. He glances
repeatedly towards the garden, towards his mother.
A: Do you remember Duggie?
S: Uh...yes...I never saw him again. I'm not going to see
anyone in
A: All your friends say hello.
S: Ah thanks...that's nice...
(He speaks and reacts like all the psychiatric cases I know. Waiting
seems to have become his major occupation, TV helping him to pass the time.)
A: Can I take a photo of you?
S: Yes, sure
(He smiles, fidgets, fastens his collar.)
Good, that's enough now. It's painful for me...Thank you.
(He looks at the tree in from of the house. I don't know what else to
say.)
A: It's nice, that tree.
S: Yes, but not any more. They cut it, not long ago Before that I liked it a lot.
(From inside the house, his mother's voice is heard.)
His Mother: Roger, come and have a cup of tea ,
and say hello to my friends.
(Roger Barrett turns towards me, panicked.)
S: Good...there you are. Maybe we'll see each other in
London. Bye
A: Yes, until then. Bye