(Of course, we are not entirely fooled by even the most skilled performance: we know that that theatre is, ultimately, falseness. The audience can sit through two hours of mutterings, abuse, portent, dread, and harrowing confrontations with mortality at least partly because the very aliveness of what is happening onstage is apparent. It’s a bleak show that reminds us of our mortality, but it’s also a tour de force of skill and passion by (one hopes) the finest actors around. I’d call this feeling a kind of joy, and, for theatre people, Godot provides it. One of the pleasures of being alive is to approach challenges, especially those that are just on the edge of our capabilities, and push ourselves to meet them. Finding new life in a play that most people who sit in the audience will have some preconceived notion about? A big, meaty challenge. Keeping the audience interested, even laughing, when there are only two of you onstage for many long minutes? A challenge. That torqueing, circular dialogue? A challenge. With Godot, every part’s the challenging center of attention there are no maids or butlers here. Among our own changing circumstances, it abides. Where Shakespeare’s words are endlessly adapted-cut up, re-worded, placed in new settings such as the controversial production of Julius Caesar at the Public Theatre’s Shakespeare in the Park this summer- Godot does not change to suit us. And although theaters have ignored his dictates, what he wanted is what we most often see: four male actors, the dead tree set, the uncut dialogue, the gloom. Because of Beckett’s demands, productions of Godot rarely change. just some guy named Godot?).Īnd it’s always these same elements, pared to the bone. While the men and their momentary visitors, Pozzo and Lucky, are distinct, nearly everything else is open for interpretation, from the set (post-Apocalyptic or wintertime?) to the costumes (former businessmen gone to ruin or vaudeville performers?) to Godot himself (God or. From our position in the audience, we watch two men, Vladimir and Estragon, and listen to their dismal, circulatory debate about whether Godot will show up and what they should do if he doesn’t. It manages to combine a specific tone and characters with an elusive setting and arc. The play is strong on its own merits, cultural zeitgeist aside. That’s the kind of longevity and cultural impact that most playwrights would kill for. Already this year, Stephen Colbert appropriated it to skewer the health care debate, and Elon Musk named his nearly-impossible-to-build-but-finally-working tunnel driller after it. And the play’s cultural reach is even greater than these production numbers indicate. Samuel French, Inc., which licenses it, reports that Godot will be professionally produced at least ten times around the world in the next three months, nearly 65 years after it first premiered. Why do theaters keep presenting Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot? Somehow, this long, apparently dystopian play has become as perennial as The Music Man.
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