Tag Archives: Samuel Beckett

WATING FOR GODOT

★★★★

Theatre Royal Haymarket

WATING FOR GODOT at the Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★

“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!


WATING 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

WATING FOR GODOT

WATING FOR GODOT

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Footfalls and Rockaby

Footfalls and Rockaby

★★★

Jermyn Street Theatre

Footfalls and Rockaby

Footfalls and Rockaby

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed – 5th November 2021

★★★

 

“The audience is shocked into a rare silence as the lights dim to blackout”

 

Two short plays by Samuel Beckett are presented, directed by Richard Beecham, joined together and performed without a break. The combined running time only reaches forty minutes but every second counts. Putting the works together highlights their common themes: the rhythms of movement, the loneliness of flawed humanity and existential pain.

There is a totally black set (Design by Simon Kenny) with two distinct areas illuminated with tubular light (Ben Ormerod): on our left, Rockaby – a cube with a rocking chair encased within it; on our right, Footfalls – a raised catwalk.

Footfalls: May (Charlotte Emmerson) appears, startled by the light. Shabbily dressed in nondescript grey, she paces up and down – nine steps left, nine steps right – head bowed, her arms wrapped around her body, her hair long and lank, her face screwed up showing the anguish that torments her but which she is unable to relieve. May talks with her unseen mother and Emmerson barely lifts her voice above that of a stage whisper. In the intimate space of Jermyn Street every excruciating word is crystal clear. Charlotte Emmerson’s performance is painful to watch but masterly.

We hear her mother’s replies amidst chilling wind (Sound by Adrienne Quartly), but the fixed source of the Voice (Siân Phillips) suggests that this could be a voice heard only within May’s head. May continues her pacing (Emmerson twice restricted to eight steps by the limitations of the catwalk), and the strident ring of taps on her shoes resounds in the space.

At the close of the play, May dissolves into the darkness and a woman steps forward. The Woman’s Voice sings the nursery rhyme Rockabye Baby and Siân Phillips evolves from one role into her next and one play segues seamlessly into another.

Rockaby: The Woman (Siân Phillips) sits at the window of her apartment, rocking to and fro, subdued lighting catching the sparkles of a jewelled brooch on her black dress. We hear the woman’s voice as thoughts of memories inside her head. This is more radio play than theatre, but Phillips’ poetic diction is perfect. At the end of each short section there is a chime, a device that connects this play with the previous, and the Woman says quietly ‘More’. More memories? More life?

A spotlight picks out the white face of the Woman and the dark shadows of her eyes – a grotesque death mask even as she lives – until her head nods and she disappears into the darkness. The audience is shocked into a rare silence as the lights dim to blackout. No-one breathes. It is as if the soul and spirit of the Woman is passing before us. As the lights return, the spell is broken, and applause breaks out.

 

Reviewed by Phillip Money

Photography by Steve Gregson

 


Footfalls and Rockaby

Jermyn Street Theatre until 20th November

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
This Beautiful Future | ★★★ | August 2021

 

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