The Mad Whale

Call me Ishmael.

Whenever it is a dark, drizzly November in my soul,

and it requires a strong moral principle

to prevent me from stepping into the streets

and methodically knocking people’s hats off,

| account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

Wherefore it is I should take it into my head

to go on a whaling voyage,

doubtless it forms part of the grand program of Providence

that was drawn up a long time ago.

They came to see me? I am Ahab!

Chief among my motives is the great whale himself.

Such a portentous and mysterious monster

rouses all my curiosity and sways me to my wish.

l stuffed a shirt or two into my old carpetbag,

tuck it under my arm and start for Nantucket.

What? Who are you? No, no, no, stop!

Please, please, no, let me-- Who are you?

What is happening? What’s happening? No!

- Please, stop, stop! - Mother.

- Let me go! - Mother!

Let me go! Rebecca!

- Rebecca! - Mother!

Tobias, what is happening?

- Her coat. - Mother!

- Rebecca! - Mother.

- Rebecca! - Rebecca! Rebecca, please!

It’s time for bed.

Rebecca!

Wait, what is happening?

What’s happening? Let me go!

- -

Please! Please stop!

l have a daughter!

Stop!

Put it on.

Now!

In the bed.

Come!

It is a dismal night.

Bitingly cold.

I know no one in the place.

Not far from the docks, I come upon an out-hanging light

and a sign over a door.

Good evening.

Do you perchance have a room available for the night?

Alas, my house is full. Not a bed unoccupied.

But you ain’t got no objections

to sharing a harpooner’s blanket, have ye?

lsuppose you are going a-whaling,

so you’d better get used to that sort of thing.

I never like to sleep two in a bed,

but rather than wander about a strange town on so bitter night,

I reckon I’ll put up with half of any decent man’s blanket.

Come on, I’ll show ya to your room.

He’ll be here afore long.

He’s a decent enough chap and pays regular.

Make yourself comfortable.

Good night to ye.

Good morning, Mrs. Wallace.

I am Miss Stokes, the head matron.

Please. I have a daughter.

She’s 8 years old.

- You are sick. - No, I’m not sick.

I’m not sick, I’m not sick. Please let me talk to a doctor.

You need to stop the dramatics.

This institution respects obedient women

who participate in treatment.

Those are the women who have daughters.

You’ve made a mess of your breakfast.

You’ll have to go hungry.

Cheer up.

This is a place of healing.

- - Whoa!

Thank you, Clyde.

You have a pleasant day at the madhouse, Doctor.

How many times must I tell you, Clyde?

We must call it hospital.

Welcome to the snake pit.

I don’t belong here.

Neither do I, dearie.

I’m old and an inconvenience,

but I ain’t mad.

Yeah, let’s do it!

Fuck! Shit!

Fuck!

- The board is waiting. - Yes.

- How do I look? - Marvelous.

- Is the chairman there? - Of course he is.

Do you remember your speech?

Uh, Moby Dick...

Melvin’s mastenNork of obsession...

- Madness. - And madness upon the sea.

It is this story, gentleman...

that I propose to bring to life here,

with our patients playing the roles.

Uaughs]

A play?

A theatrical production?

A technique pioneered by Dr. Jacoby at Doublehill.

And used with great success.

The theater provides a means of self-explanation

and self-knowledge.

Is that not what we strive to provide for our patients?

Preposterous.

We are here to treat these poor souls,

not to set them prancing about like chimpanzees.

Oars and harpoons in the hands of Iunatics.

Insane.

We’ll give them prop weapons, of course.

Dr. Calhoun, I agreed to employ you here

as a favor to your father, who assured me

that your perverse fascination with the theater was behind you.

Yet you sit here before us asking to put on a play.

Therapy!

I confess my love for the theater is unabated,

but I come to you now as a man of medicine.

My only concern is the welfare of my patients.

I realize I am new here.

But I’ve been around long enough to recognize

that the old methods--

isolation, ice-therapy, leeches--

they do not work.

Well...

we could try it on the female inmates.

They may be more docile.

Women?

Gentleman, all of the roles in Moby Dick are for men.

Who gives a damn?

It’s women or nothing.

Benjamin?

Hmm.

I think a play is a fine idea.

They mean to discourage you.

They shan’t.

Let’s begin casting.

Ah, Bernadette!

Bernadette, take your time

and then whenever you’re ready, begin.

Call me Ishmael. Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November--

Wonderful, Bernadette!

Thank you.

Ah, Freda, yes!

Take your time, okay?

Call me...

Ishmael.

I can’t read.

- -

Kara!

Kara, Kara.

Wait!

Be gentle with her! Be gentle!

Easy.

Come here. Let me see it.

I just want to see it.

Maybe we should take a break.

Perhaps she could be our Queequeg?

I don’t know. Queequeg is called a savage,

but he’s really one of the more intelligent--

Trust me on this, Matron.

I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you.

Yes, you.

Do you read?

Call me Ishmael.

Whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul,

and it requires a strong moral principle

to prevent me from stepping into the street

and methodically knocking people’s hats off,

then | account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

You are new, Miss...

Mrs. Wallace. Isabel Wallace.

She was committed last night by her husband, a minister.

Well, Mrs. Wallace, I’m Dr. Benjamin Calhoun.

Welcome.

Isn’t it exciting?

I’ve always wanted to be an actress.

Is it always like this?

We get a bit of sugar on Sundays.

Sometimes.

Not hungry, Mrs. Wallace?

Farm animals eat better.

You should be thankful you get anything at all.

Thank you, Matron.

Dr. Calhoun wants to see you.

So I have some exciting news.

I have cast you in the role of Ishmael.

Uh...

Have you acted before?

I lead the church choir.

Well, splendid!

Perhaps your experiences there will aid us in--

I’m not mad.

Well, let’s see.

I have your file right here.

"Isabel Wallace.

committed at the request of Reverend Tobias Wallace."

No, Mrs. Wall--