Waiting For Godot (The SOB Review) – Studio 54, Roundabout, New York, New York
** (out of ****)Samuel Beckett is an acquired taste. There, I've said it.
I had joked shortly before my performance that I’d been waiting my entire life to see
Waiting For Godot. I could have waited a lot longer.
While some may have buzzed
ad nauseum about how
Anthony Page’s revival may be the best for Beckett’s
Waiting For Godot in over 50 years, consider this: more than five long decades have passed since the existential, absurdist play
last trod Broadway’s boards.
Make that Broadway boreds.
Maybe it was my decided lack of sleep the night prior to finally seeing this play, but yours truly found himself waiting for just one thing -- that this seemingly interminable play would end. And that was long before the end of Act One.
Sure, there are some terrific performances from a top-shelf cast, lead by
Nathan Lane as Estragon and
Bill Irwin as Vladimir. In fact,
John Glover’s breathtaking turn as the utterly dehumanized and most unfortunate Lucky was among the most haunting portrayals of the last year
But decent performances and present day parallels aside, this was one snooze-inducing revival. And Beckett’s ironic patter about boredom near the close of the first act gave me no encouragement:
ESTRAGON:
In the meantime, nothing happens.
POZZO:
You find it tedious?
ESTRAGON:
Somewhat.
POZZO:
(to Vladimir). And you, Sir?
VLADIMIR:
I've been better entertained.
Yes indeed. Same here. Same here.
This is Steve On Broadway (SOB).
Labels: Anthony Page, Bill Irwin, Broadway, John Glover, Nathan Lane, Play, Revival, Samuel Beckett, The SOB Review, Waiting For Godot
Endgame (The SOB Review) – Harvey Theatre, Brooklyn Academy of Music, Brooklyn, NY
*** (out ****)Admittedly, appreciation for modernist playwright
Samuel Beckett’s existential body of work is an acquired taste.
But fortunately, for anyone venturing across the East River into the heart of Brooklyn to see
Andrei Belgrader’s stirring and often witty revival of
Endgame , they lay claim to having enjoyed nothing less than a certified must-see event.
Certainly, part of the allure is one of the year’s most impeccable casts -- including
John Turturro (a natural born Hamm if there ever was one,
Max Casella (who is nothing short of a revelation providing an inspired and nuanced Clov),
Elaine Stritch (Hamm's mother Nell) and
Alvin Epstein (one of Beckett’s foremost interpreters over the last fifty plus years as Nagg). There is no star-turn, to be sure. Instead, there's a playful patter among these wretched characters who aren't
Waiting For Godot, but simply waiting for the inevitable end.
What a joy then to watch Epstein, one of Beckett's earliest Clovs, not so much chewing the scenery as gumming what little he can from his garbage-can duplex. His banter about the good old days with wife Nell is priceless, as is Stritches deadpan delivery of her line, "Nothing is funnier than unhappiness." Whether stuck in a rut, or immobilized by a trash bin existence, this creepy family underscores why every moment deserves to be lived to its fullest.
I had the good fortune to be seated next to a proud Beckett aficionado, who professed to seeing many varying productions of
Endgame. Upon the final curtain, he was thrilled to tell me that this was by far the best he’d ever seen. It was a bit surprising when this psychologist asked me why I was there. He figured that I must be like him: an English lit major.
But I was there because as a theatre fan, I wanted to be tested. And certainly this
theatre of the absurd is like cramming for an exam as it demands your most minute attention to every little detail to unravel Beckett's sketchy intentions, which don't come easily.
Coincidentally, that same fan informed me that one of the worst productions of
Endgame he had seen was devoid of any humor, essentially something sure to make you want to slit your wrists. Fortunately, Belgrader and his superb cast mine the depths of this Beckett work in which essentially nothing happens other than the long tortuous slog toward that only other thing in life that is as certain as taxes.
But by plumbing every word with what can only be described as a natural rhythmic fashion, Belgrader's cast succeeds in finding all of its ironic humor and humanity, making this a less cumbersome trial.
This is Steve On Broadway (SOB).
Click here for ticket information.Labels: Alvin Epstein, Andrei Belgrader, Brooklyn, Elaine Stritch, Endgame, John Turturro, Max Casella, Off-Broadway, Play, Revival, Samuel Beckett, The SOB Review
