Tag Archives: Samuel Beckett

Beckett Triple Bill

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Jermyn Street Theatre

Beckett Triple Bill

Beckett Triple Bill:

Krapp’s Last Tape –Β Eh Joe –Β The Old Tune

Jermyn Street Theatre

Reviewed – 17th January 2020

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“Nunn’s inspired direction and choices, and the consistently wonderful acting, gives the overall effect of this being one three act play rather than three one act plays”

 

Kicking off the new decade at the Jermyn Street Theatre is a trio of short, one act plays by Samuel Beckett. A master of solitary minimalism, Beckett wrote many to choose from. The three, compiled and directed by Trevor Nunn for the β€œBeckett Triple Bill” are, on the surface, quite different from each other and originally written for different media (the stage, television and radio). But Nunn has picked out a common thread of memory and of looking back, allowing them to sit together in illogical harmony as an intimate and seamlessly crafted trilogy. In each play the protagonists are reviewing their lives through their refracted memories. β€˜We’ve never been who we think we were once, and we only remember what never happened’. I don’t remember where that aphorism comes from, of course, but it defines the fragile fabric of nostalgia that we all share, and that Beckett so expertly writes about.

β€œKrapp’s Last Tape” opens the evening. The title of the play seems obvious, that what we are witnessing is the recording of Krapp’s final tape, yet it could also just be his most recent. It is Krapp’s sixty-ninth birthday and he is playing a tape he recorded thirty years earlier, listening with a mixture of contempt and regret. At times he cannot remember the meaning of words he used to use and has to look them up in the dictionary. Afterwards he removes the tape, loads a fresh one and starts recording his older voice, a voice that is scathing about the man he used to be and the man he has become. James Hayes, as Krapp, is captivating; holding the audience tightly in his grasp, even through his long moments of silence. We are as attentive as he is. As he listens, we listen too, and Hayes has the ability to draw us right into the character’s mind.

β€œEh Joe” takes us into slightly darker territory. Originally written for television, it translates perfectly to the intimacy of the space. Simon Nicholas’ live, close-up back projection of Joe’s face pays homage to Beckett’s original specifications, but here it is very much a backdrop. We barely notice the camera moving in closer. All our attention is on Niall Buggy who utters not a single word as Joe. Buggy relies on expression alone, and some real tears, as he reacts to the voice in his head. While Buggy is seen and not heard, Lisa Dwan, as The Voice, is heard and not seen. Dwan’s voice is barely above a whisper but it creates a storm in the mind of Joe. Each word a knife going in. A pause for breath, then in again.

Buggy returns for the final round in β€œThe Old Tune”, teaming up with David Threlfall to play Gorman and Cream respectively; two old-timers reunited after many years. Beckett’s radio play injects a small dose of much needed humour to the evening. Buggy and Threlfall are faultless in their portrayal of two bewildered men lost in a modern world that is passing them by – quite literally too with Max Pappenheim’s sound design littering the stage with passing motor cars. The elderly couple remember a time before cars. They remember a lot, but forget just as much too; disagreeing with each other’s memories in a kind of prose version of Lerner and Loewe’s β€˜I Remember It Well’. Beckett’s dialogue, often absurd in the extreme, always manages to contain universal themes that we recognise and relate to. The exaggerated nostalgia that provides the comedy is timeless and it still pervades today, having influenced many writers on the way, most noticeably Monty Python’s β€˜Yorkshiremen Sketch’.

β€œBeckett Triple Bill” is an evening of contrast and similarity. I initially set out to appraise each short piece separately, but Nunn’s inspired direction and choices, and the consistently wonderful acting, gives the overall effect of this being one three act play rather than three one act plays.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Robert Workman

 


Beckett Triple Bill

Jermyn Street Theatre until 8th February 2020

 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:
Creditors | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2019
Miss Julie | β˜…β˜…β˜… | April 2019
Pictures Of Dorian Gray (A) | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2019
Pictures Of Dorian Gray (B) | β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2019
Pictures Of Dorian Gray (C) | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | June 2019
Pictures Of Dorian Gray (D) | β˜…β˜… | June 2019
For Services Rendered | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | September 2019
The Ice Cream Boys | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | October 2019
All’s Well That Ends Well | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2019
One Million Tiny Plays About Britain | β˜…β˜…β˜… | December 2019

 

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Happy Days
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The Tower Theatre

Happy Days

Happy Days

The Tower Theatre

Reviewed – 17th April 2019

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“Jones and Sullivan have done Beckett justice – a daunting achievement of which many have fallen short”

 

If you’re not familiar with this Samuel Beckett play, first staged in New York in 1961, it follows the daily routine of Winnie, a woman buried up to her waist in a mound of earth. She has a bag of little things that help her get through the day: a toothbrush, a hand mirror, makeup, a hat, a music box. She does her best to maintain her cheery demeanour in spite of everything. Winnie’s husband, Willie, is ever-present, but mostly hidden behind the mound. A masterpiece of absurdism, Happy Days is essentially an hour and forty-minute monologue.

To say the play is challenging, both technically and dramatically, is an understatement. An exercise in anti-theatre, it purposefully breaks all the rules: it’s static, without plot, quiet, adagio, and abstruse. These are all pitfalls for theatremakers, but Robert Pennant Jones’s production with Ruth Sullivan (Winnie) transcends. Jones and Sullivan have done Beckett justice – a daunting achievement of which many have fallen short. They’ve beautifully expressed his insight into empty lives, and people starving for genuine connection. The play feels as relevant today as it was sixty years ago.

The set design (Max) is striking – immediately impressive when you enter the space. Where soft earth or sand is normally used for the mound, Max has crafted a dramatic mountain of sharp shale. The ominous black rocks emphasise the harsh and unforgiving nature of Winnie’s imprisonment. The design leans somewhat into the interpretation that the play’s setting could be Hell.

Peggy Ashcroft, a famous former Winnie, once described the role as β€œthe Hamlet for female actors.” Ruth Sullivan’s performance is as exceptional as the part demands. She expertly plays the veneer of chipper positivity over a profound sadness – the desperate strain beneath Winnie’s apparently breezy attempts to communicate with Willie (Ian Hoare). With the lightest touch, she allows us glimpses into the vastness of Winnie’s loneliness. Tears pool in her eyes before she pulls back with an apologetic smile and sigh: β€œOh well… Mustn’t complain…” Sullivan portrays an intellectual, curious, loving woman deprived of stimulation. Neglected. Her joy at the smallest shred of acknowledgement is heart-breaking. Her vulnerability is devastating.

Sullivan’s flawless timing shows a deep sense for the rhythms of Beckett’s language. Her characterisation is so natural it ideally contrasts with the bizarreness of her situation. A dense, enigmatic, nearly two-hour monologue dares an audience not to be bored. But Sullivan is captivating. She lifts the lines, bringing out the poetry in Beckett’s writing. Winnie is delightful, silly, and endearing. She is also acutely suffering, and holding back oceans of anguish. Sullivan’s ability to communicate all of this, while stuck in place from the waist (and later neck) down, is marvellous.

If you’re a Beckett fan, do not miss this show. If you’re new to Beckett, grab this opportunity to discover his genius. Sullivan’s superlative performance deserves a packed house. It’s one you won’t forget.

 

Reviewed by Addison Waite

Photography by David Sprecher and Robert Piwko

 


Happy Days

Tower Theatre until 20th April

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:
To Kill a Mockingbird | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | October 2018
Table | β˜…β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018
The Seagull | β˜…β˜…β˜… | November 2018
Talk Radio | β˜…β˜…β˜…Β½ | March 2019

 

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