★★★★

“The partnership between Msamati and Whishaw is first rate”

The setting (Rae Smith) is a desolate stony landscape with no discerning features bar one sad leafless tree. Despite time references of the afternoon and evening there is no discriminating change in lighting (Bruno Poet). It appears to be permanently night-time, practically Nordic.

Two unkempt individuals are doing not very much. Estragon (Lucian Msamati) is seated, trying unsuccessfully to remove his boots. Vladimir (Ben Whishaw) stands idly under the tree. It transpires that they are waiting for Godot, a man of whom they know very little or seemingly even the reason why they are waiting for him. Both men are grungily dressed: Vladimir in a singlet, jogging pants and bobble hat; Estragon in grubby fatigues and a winter fur hat with earflaps. Both have slept rough, Estragon in a ditch after having been beaten up, he says. Vladimir appears to have internal pains. Life is clearly not sweet for this odd couple.

It’s been said that Samuel Beckett has written a great play in which nothing happens and as the second act very much mirrors the first, he has written a play in which nothing happens twice. And yet we are engrossed in what action there is. Director James Macdonald moves the pair around the stage slowly but naturally. Occasionally in moments of anxiety Vladimir breaks into a run but fundamentally they (and we) are waiting. The partnership between Msamati and Whishaw is first rate. The clarity of diction from both men is excellent bringing out all the nuances of Beckett’s text. Whishaw is high energy and highly pitched, Msamati sullen, sulky and velvety.

Beckett describes his work as a ‘tragicomedy’ and it is hard to place exactly where this production lands. The audience laughs at the scene involving the inscrutable landowner Pozzo (Jonathan Slinger) and his cruelty towards his ‘menial’ Lucky (Tom Edden) but it isn’t funny really, is it? Lucky is brilliantly portrayed by Edden with his perfect repetitive actions, his jaw gaping, eyeballs popping and drool flailing. Edden gets his own round of applause for his ‘thinking’ scene but his ‘dancing’ routine could have been extended if the director wished to maximise the comic intent.

For the tragic side of things, the pointlessness of it all is evident, and the silences speak volumes. The two waiting friends consider suicide, but for as much as to find something to do than for ending things forever, it seems. The lasting memory of this production is seeing the bond of friendship grow between Vladimir and Estragon; their discrete holding of hands, or a gentle touch on the shoulder giving a poignancy amidst all the blathering. But with that comes an overwhelming sadness.

It is near on seventy years since the first production of this play which is thought by many as one of the finest in the English language (despite the original being in French!) and certainly ground-breaking in terms of the history of theatre. Waiting for Godot is a play that every theatre lover should see on stage, and this is a very fine production indeed with strong performances throughout. Ben Whishaw and Lucian Msamati are both outstanding. Go see it!

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS at the Soho Theatre

★★★★

“the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness”

We open to a startling flash of light burnishing a grimy public lavatory as a small but mighty voice coming from a cubicle proclaims “I don’t need any help” to his exasperated father. Boys on the Verge of Tears is an exploration of masculinity from learning to pee in the toilet to emptying a colostomy bag; always defiantly rejecting help from others.

This striking debut by Sam Grabiner, winner of the Verity Bargate Award, confronts its subject through a series of sketches featuring a plethora of characters representing brands of man. Each scene is self-contained with episodes rolling into each other continuously. The costumes aid this tremendously (I want that rotary phone handbag desperately!) with some impressive quick-changes occurring as the merry-go-round of manhood turns (Ashley Martin-Davis). The bathroom deteriorates over the course of the show, picking up bruises and graffiti whilst containing some well executed surprises (Ashley Martin-Davis).

The cast depict giggling children, disturbing teenagers and glamourous drag queens with heart and variation. Highlights include the troubled but eerily realistic Jack (Matthew Beard), bitchy queen Maureen (David Carlyle) who showed extraordinary range throughout, frightened and vulnerable Jo (Calvin Demba) whose performance gave power to the play’s ideas, world weary Santa Claus (Tom Espiner) and mischievous but adorable Zaid (Maanuv Thiara). Directed by James Macdonald, the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness between men, with clear commentary on needing more of the latter. There are moments when characters evoke other iterations; “it was absurd” being said by two men with sexist attitudes towards women, but manifesting it differently. The group scenes feel very naturalistic and accurate, instigating the occasional shudder of teenage memories. The ensemble have brilliant chemistry and comradery.

The play has no main character and a relatively loose structure. Characters catch brief glimpses of the future as scenes merge into one another. Whilst allowing for more abstract explorations of masculinity it also prevented further depth being explored. We meet these men for mere moments, barely scratching their surface, evoking loneliness and shallowness. Chekov’s gun is cocked, but never fired in the form of a knife that is introduced and not really used, perhaps to subvert expectations, but also feels disjointed. On occasion, there were too many interruptions of minor characters which broke moments of tension, and some scenes lacked resolution, ending abruptly. The jump between the chaos of the night life sequence to palliative care felt reductive and cliché of a lifetime; surely there are more midlife experiences to draw on? Is masculinity really about fighting and clubbing then fatherhood and death? Perhaps I reveal my own naiveté to this suggestion…maybe it is? Boys on the Verge of Tears asks why men refuse help from each other and how men’s bodies can be destructive and vulnerable in all their beauty and strength.

Tag Archives: Ian Dickinson

WAITING FOR GODOT

★★★★

Theatre Royal Haymarket

WAITING FOR GODOT at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★

“The partnership between Msamati and Whishaw is first rate”

WAITING FOR GODOT at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 19th September 2024

by Phillip Money

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

FARM HALL | ★★★★ | August 2024

HEATHERS | ★★★ | July 2021

WAITING FOR GODOT

WAITING FOR GODOT

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BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS

★★★★

Soho Theatre

BOYS ON THE VERGE OF TEARS at the Soho Theatre

★★★★

“the ensemble takes the audience through violence, turmoil and tenderness”