Christmas around the world
Scene 1 -
Santa’s Study. Present are Santa,
Junior tonttu, Old Fart tonttu
Santa: Oh, oh, oh... My back’s hurting again with that damn Christmas eve coming... Where’s my ointment?
JT: Good afternoon, Father Christmas.
OFT: Who the hell are you?
JT: I’m a new tonttu here. They call me Junior. I have a question for you.
Santa: Yeah, what is it?
JT: Well, I have been thinking about this… Today, globalisation is “in”. Worldwide “trends”, Global Revolution, Spice Girls, the new millennium, all that… Here in Korvatunturi, nothing changes. It’s always the same.
Santa: Yeah, so?
JT: Well, you see, I was wondering amongst myself… Christmas is becoming more and more commercial all the time. People forget the original idea and focus on presents and matter. I mean, even WE are being sponsored all the time.
Santa: Hey, I LIKE this Coca-Cola Costume™. It’s funky!
JT: Indeed, indeed, good sir. Well, I have been thinking… Your image is.. “cool”.. and all, but does it sell? Have you ever thought of actually altering our image in every country so that we’d sell better?
Santa: Yeah, I have. Forget it.
Turns away to
let OFT rub the ointment in his back.
JT: Why on Earth? What could possibly be so bad about it?
OFT: Hey, just shut up, Junior.
Santa shrugs: Hold on there, Old Fart… I might as well tell something. (Turns to face the JT, who sits down closer). Alright… So, we’ve tried this image stuff in several countries over the last, what, fifty years. You know, USA, the Soviet Union, Iraq, all that. Even Germany.
JT: Iraq? Oh, dear. I thought they didn’t have Christmas there.
Santa shrugs: Well, that did prove out to be a problem. See, it all happened in around, what, eighty-one or something…
Scene 2. –
Iraq! Sabri Brothers musical score. A street in Iraq. Enter Arab-Santa, Desert-tonttu.
AS: Well, here we are, Desert-tonttu. I hope this was a good idea. I mean, since there’s no Christmas here, I don’t know anyone around here… How are we going to find this guy?
DT: Easy. Just look for a guy with a moustache. Look, there’s one!
DT: Hello, effendi! Might you be Saddam Hussein?
S: Yes. I am. Saddam. Who you?
AS: Ho ho ho. I am Santa Claus, and this is one of my tonttus. We are here to wish you a merry Christmas.
S: What’s Christmas?
DT: Christmas is when you get presents.
AS: We have come to present you a Christmas Present. Here! Gives Saddam a plutonium rod.
S: This is what?
AS turning to the Desert-tonttu: Yeah, what did we give him?
In the
audience, Assassin reaches for his gun.
DT: Plutonium.
AS: We gave him plutonium?!
S: Ahh… Plutonium! I have a mission for life. Starts to walk away. Hear, comrades! The man walking in the stupid American coat gave us plutonium for a kiss-mass present!
An AK-47 shot is heard. Desert-Tonttu falls dead to the ground.
Assassin:
Hizbollah! Rushes out from the audience.
Scene 3. –
Santa’s study. Santa, Junior tonttu and Old Fart tonttu sitting,
talking.
Santa: …and that’s pretty much it. You starting to understand?
JT: Are you serious? Why the bloody hell were you trying to push Christmas to a heathen country?
Santa: Why, you said it yourself: It’s about globalisation!
JT: Yes, why, but… I mean…
OFT: Coca-Cola sells globally…
JT angrily: You shut your mouth about that Coke fixation. Who on Earth likes that ancient image anyway?
Silence.
FS: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas. Ho ho ho.
Silence.
FS louder: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas! Ho ho HO!
Silence.
FS turning to USA-tonttu: Hey, where’s the night fever? Where are the groovy boogie-girls? I been waitin’ all year for this funky X-mas 1976™.
USAT clears his throat: Sorry, Santa… These folks tend to sleep when we visit?
FS scratches his head: What the f*ck? So what if I’m hundreds of years old – I can still be randy, right? I can still take part in nightlife, right?
USAT shakes his head: Uhh… No. We represent Christianity. (Turns to audience) Nightlife comes from Satan.
FS: Oh, man. That’s lame. It sucks. Shrugs and sighs. Well… A Santa’s gotta do what a Santa’s gotta do.
Presents are
brought to the fireplace. Exit: Santa,
USA-tonttu, Flag parade. Night turns into morning.
Enter: Fat kids.
Fat kids
scream, shout and start to tear the packets open.
Scene 5.
Santa’s study (see above).
OFT: …And so, don’t you come telling me that the Coca-Cola image wouldn’t sell…
JT: Jolly good. But you can’t claim that all Christian countries at that time were exactly like the USA, can you, good sir?
Santa bursts out aloud: Indeed not, Comrade! Now, let me tell you a story of the People’s country…
Scene 6. CCCP. Silent, dark stage.
Enter: Igor (Kulak), Natasha (wife), Tatjana (little girl), Sergei (little boy)
The Soviet National Anthem (loud). Lights on. Enter Sovjet-Santa, KGB-tonttu, marching with straight backs.
SS: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas, Comrades.
Children rush to greet the SS. Igor raises his arm to greet the SS, then wipes sweat off his brow.
Igor: Well met, Comrade Santa. How corrodes the evil capitalist world today?
SS: My front is well, Igor. Looks at the children. And how is Lenin’s offspring?
Natasha: Our people is strong and glorious, as usual. Uncle Joe is taking good care of his own.
Tatjana: Santa, Santa, I learned how to make socks for the army!
SS: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas, Comrades. I bear you children presents from the Communist Workshop of Korvatunturi.
Gives presents. Tatjana unwraps hers, finds a sickle.
Tatjana: Harasho! Look, mother, I got a sickle!
Natasha: Oooh, beloved child. Now we can work together on the fields!
Sergei unwraps his, finds a hammer.
Igor: Well, what a splendid surprise, Sergei!
Sergei disappointed: A hammer?! But Santa, I wanted an Avtomatik Kalashnikov!
SS astonished: But Sergei… Every other boy got a hammer, too, and they are not complaining.
Sergei cries: I want an Avtomatik Kalashnikov! I want to shoot the bourgeois!
KGB-tonttu digs out a notebook, scribbles something down.
SS clears throat: We shall go now, Comrades. There is
still plenty of work to do tonight. Farewell!
Igor: Farewell, Comrade Santa. Work is our blessing!
Exit everyone. Night comes, morning
whitens.
Enter Igor, Tatjana, Natasha.
Tatjana: Mama, mama… Where is my brother Sergei?
Natasha looks around desperately:: I don’t know, Tatushka. Igor, Igor… Sergei is gone. Sergei has disappeared!
Igor grimly, turning to the audience: Such is the fate of traitors in our country.
Santa: … And that concludes that story…
JT: For fuck’s sakes, why are you old chaps living in the Cold War? I mean, it’s the bloody third “Millennium” and all….
OFT: Whaddaya mean? We’ve been doin’ it all the time… These stories are just the juicy ones…
JT: Then why don’t these methods work in modern, civilized countries… Like Sweden?
Santa snickers: Heh… Let’s talk about something else.
OFT: Yeah, well, uh… Let’s take Germany for example.
Jürgen: Ahtung! Der Santa-Claus ist coming!
Hans: Zum teufel!
Was is das? Wo ist mein lederhosen?
Lisa: Schnell! Hide ze bier!
Eva: Ach… Assholes…
Enter Deutsche-Santa.
DS: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas, everyone.
Hans: Merry Christmas, Santa. Where are our presents?
Eva pokes Hans, mutters: Asshole… Not so schnell!
DS: Have you been drinking beer here?
Lisa: Nein, herr Santa-Claus.
DS: You have! I can see bottles everywhere!
Eva: Ach… Assholes…
DS: There will be no presents for you naughty kids this year!
Jürgen: Presents for Christmas?
Lisa shrugs.
Exit Santa-Claus. Party goes on. More Scooter.
Scene 9. Santa’s
study.
OFT: …And that concludes that bit about modern Germany.
JT: Is the world really this hopeless?
OFT and Santa nod.
Santa: You ever thought why we live here in Finland?
JT nods: I’m afraid you are right, Father Christmas. Nothing is better than the genuine Finnish Christmas.
Enter Mrs. Santa.
MRSS angrily: Santa! Hurry! Ye need ta get ovah wit’ dem presen’s all aroun’ da woid!
Santa: Oh, crap. Not again. Sighs. Are we all packed?
OFT shrugs. More or less.
Santa: Okay.
MRSS: More or less?! Angrily. I set the deadline on December 20th!
MRSS drives the bunch of three out.
Scene 10.
Finland. Finlandia on background. The classic Christmas. On stage, Jukka, Marja ja Teuvo.
Enter Joulupukki, tonttu.
Santa sadly: Ho ho ho. Merry Christmas.
Tonttu drops
the sack of presents to the floor. Silence.
Jukka shyly: Welcome, Santa.
Santa: Well, well.
Looks around. Have you all been good this year? Jukka? Jukka nods shyly. Marja? Marja
nods shyly. Teuvo? Teuvo nods shyly.
Tonttu: Well... Umm... That’s nice...
Reaches into the sack.
Tonttu: Teuvo…. Jukka… Marja….(everyone gets their present without a word).
Santa: Well, it was lovely here with you, but me and my tonttu really need to get going now. See you all next year. Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho!
Exit Santa, tonttu.
Silently, exit everyone.
Copyright by Ville Komulainen and Emil
Heinäaho