★★★★

“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!

THE REAL THING at the Old Vic

★★★★

“Stoppard at his finest”

The Old Vic stages a new production of Tom Stoppard’s discursive but entertaining play from 1982. It’s become a norm to criticise the work of Stoppard for lacking heart, being too clever, and too wordy, so it’s amusing to hear the author condemned by one of his own characters. “Having all the words is not what life’s all about”, says Max as he argues with the playwright Henry. And there’s much to carp about: the lack of character development, the snobbery, the itty bitty supporting roles. Charlotte argues that Henry creates a female character that is only good for the pouring of drinks, whilst Stoppard comes close to making Charlotte just that.

The central topic is the title of the play and to make this clear it is spelt out in neon pink lighting across the centre of the stage at the start and end of the show. As a series of relationships play out we assess if any of the affairs, married or otherwise, are ‘the real thing’. Henry pontificates at length about the subject whilst his daughter Debbie reduces the discussion to something snappy that could be written on a t-shirt. Max clings at the legs of Annie when he discovers she is leaving. Henry cries in the dark when he hears of Annie’s affair with Billy. Charlotte admits nine secret liaisons whilst married to Henry. It appears that Stoppard is telling us that there is no real relationship without infidelity.

And what is real? In the first scene we believe we are witnessing something only to find it is a scene from a play. (No spoiler here as the Old Vic programme inexplicably gives this one away.) And if we think a scene seems real, the illusion is broken by dancing stagehands rearranging the stage furniture. In one such entr’acte, Henry is poured a drink by a stagehand as he relaxes on his sofa, whilst his room is created around him. It’s not real whatever Henry (or Stoppard) has to say about it.

The production values are superb. The set is a much larger open space than a traditional living room set (Peter McKintosh – Set & Costume) with luscious royal blue walls. Different lampshades are flown in above the same white sofa to differentiate sitting rooms. The sofa even doubles for seating in a train carriage. Director Max Webster moves his characters around the stage effortlessly, and whilst much of the action takes place on the sofa it never feels too static.

Bel Powley as Annie delightfully harnesses her inner Felicity Kendall, beautifully flirtatious in an over-sexy mini dress for her early scenes and comes into her own as her relationships develop. Her clothing ages with her as she settles down into shirt and jeans, and finally a rather middle-class trouser suit. James McArdle, on the other hand, spends much of the time in just a shirt and his boxers as Henry battles it out with his typewriter and the need to write words. These two characters carry the brunt of the play through their lovemaking and their arguing and McArdle and Powley are excellent throughout. It is the quality of their speech that is impressive, their impeccable diction giving Stoppard’s verbosity Shakespearian quality.

Oliver Johnstone too excels as Max particularly showing some fine facial expression and such a pity he disappears from the action after the important early scenes. Susan Wokoma as Charlotte who is brought back for a brief catch-up scene could give us more.

A special mention of Karise Yansen as Henry and Charlotte’s teenage daughter Debbie who aces her one brief scene, allowing us to learn that Henry struggles with father-daughter relationships as much as husband and wife.

The Real Thing is Stoppard at his finest. Combine this with the outstanding design elements of the show and the stellar cast, this is a show not to be missed.

Tag Archives: Phillip Money

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

Click here to see our Recommended Shows page

THE REAL THING

★★★★

Old Vic

THE REAL THING at the Old Vic

★★★★

“Stoppard at his finest”