Theatre Review: Waiting for Godot
A Mermaids Production
01/10/2023-03/10/2023
Directed by: Mohit Agarwal and Haedden Mund
Written by: Samuel Beckett
Reviewed by: Nicole Sellew
The directors requested that everyone show up to Waiting For Godot in black tie. What was more surprising to me was that people actually did. The audience was full of blazers, fur, and silky dresses. The play felt incongruous with that kind of atmosphere, but maybe that’s what they were going for.
Before the show, with Lucky’s monologue blaring through the speakers, one of the directors wove through the audience. He wore sunglasses in a room with no natural light. A cryptic announcement was made about the use of a fog machine. Theatre of the absurd, indeed.
The play was put together in three weeks and was just under three hours, an impressive feat. The performances were the highlight of the night, with professional grade acting from every member of the cast. Sacha Murray-Thriepland’s Pozzo was particularly delightful. Each of the performers were confident in their movement and style, traipsing across the stage and down the catwalk that protruded into the centre aisle. There were excellent moments of physical comedy from all the main cast members. The Tree, played by Daniel Teape for reasons that remain unclear to me, was nonetheless impressively still and impassive throughout the play’s runtime. A highlight of the show came just after Pozzo’s act two entrance, when everyone threw their bodies around onstage and ended up in a dog-pile. In a show where energy could easily dip and lines could be delivered flatly, the actors made every moment engaging and distinct.
The pared-back set was brilliantly designed by Tillie Affley and flipped at the interval, which added to the general sense of confusion and unease. It was unclear where the characters were and whether we were meant to be there with them. At one point, Vladimir and Estragon broke the fourth wall, making direct and eerie eye-contact with audience members. Vladimir asked where all these corpses came from. Fog from the machine and various detritus filled the stage behind the actors, with the fog enveloping the audience too.
Vladimir and Estragon, played with charm and expert comedic timing by Matthew McCaffrey and Marcus Judd, respectively, played to both sides of the audience. They hobbled about the stage in a way that felt entirely natural. Another favourite moment of mine was their repeated sharing of root vegetables. Estragon bites into a turnip. He spits it out, confused. He had wanted a carrot. The two share an easy camaraderie, punctuated by rows. Vladimir repeatedly shakes Estragon awake because he feels lonely, and then refuses to hear the content of Estragon’s dreams. The pair had excellent chemistry that I wish the directors had taken more advantage of.
There were many moments where the audience was still and unsettled, unsure whether they were meant to laugh. There were also moments of raucous laughter. The actors did an excellent job juggling comedy and tragedy. At one point, Vladimir, alone onstage, began to scream. At first, there was laughter in the audience, but the moment went on just long enough that the laughter died and the atmosphere turned tense. Another poignant moment came at Pozzo’s final exit. A confused Vladimir asks Pozzo to stay. But Pozzo insists he must go on, and so must the audience go on, and continue to watch despite their confusion and discomfort.
What did it all mean? I have no idea. But I wasn’t bored for a moment. The time flew by. If it wasn’t sold out, I’d go back for the second performance. It is a testament to the cast and crew that they managed to make such an enjoyable evening out of such a difficult play.
After the show, I asked a few of the actors what they thought the play meant. They all gave me a different answer.
