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Stars explained: * A production of no real merit
with failings in all areas. ** A production showing evidence of not
enough time or effort, or even talent, and which never breathes any real
life into the piece – or a show lumbered with a terrible script. *** A
good enjoyable show which might have some small flaws but has largely
achieved what it set out to do.**** An excellent show which shows a
great deal of work and stage craft with no noticeable or major
flaws.***** A four star show which has found that extra bit of magic
which lifts theatre to another plane. |
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Actors in waiting: Alan Groucott as Val and Jake Collyer as Ester Waiting for Waiting for Godot Sutton Arts Theatre **** Well, there’s a waistcoat that doesn’t fit as it is far too small, a bloke who pees in a cardboard, takeaway coffee cup, oh, and the assistant stage manager explains that acting is by far the easiest job in any theatre production. You see an actor, she explains, wears a costume made by someone else that someone tells him to wear, stands where someone tells him to stand and then recites words someone else has written – easy really. And that’s about it, pretty much all that happens in Dave Hanson’s play. Funny how you can laugh at . . . well nothing really, and there is a mystery as well – the mystery being how this wonderful, award winning comedy has never made it to Broadway or the West End. Anyone familiar with Beckett’s masterpiece, the bedrock of the theatre of the absurd, will know it is about . . . well, waiting, Beckett presumable never finding time to write the sequel when Godot actually turns up. So, Hanson cleverly creates an affectionate tribute, a parallel universe with two unseen characters on stage waiting for something that never happens mirrored by two understudies backstage waiting for . . . well, something to happen, which it never does, to the waiters on stage. The only glimmer of hope is that it might, just as Godot might . . . just happen. So, while Estragon and Vladimir endlessly wait on stage Hanson gives us Ester and Val awaiting their chance to shine, night after boring night, in their dressing room come storeroom amid the racks of moth eaten costumes and discarded props of productions long past. Val is a newcomer to the ranks of Thespians, naïve and idealistic with no real thoughts of ambition or direction, still a little taken by the wonder of it all and contentedly happy with his so far limited lot. He even has a fan, of sorts, Mary, who he calls “aunty”, an elderly lady who attends each performance hoping to see him appear. Another one waiting in hope. Hanson’s Ester meanwhile is a theatre luvvie supreme, an old stager who knows all about “the biz” as he pretentiously and tediously calls it, or, to be more accurate, he thinks, or at least pretends he knows it all, with his supposedly articulate enunciation and his warm ups and exercises gleaned from second rate drama courses. Acting is an art to be learned not taught he declares, as he decries RADA as a place no one goes to - sure sign he never got anywhere near it.
Still waiting: Val wonders and Ester clutches his bust of Beethoven . . . because? . . . who knows? You suspect his career has involved a lot of waiting, mainly for work. His only appearance of note seems to have been in Hamlet, or maybe Titus, in some unheralded production in an unnamed park at some unspecified time. You suspect his vague suggesting that he actually was Hamlet, or maybe Titus, who knows, missed out the important preposition "in" with man third from the left, rear row of the crowd a more likely casting. He sees an opportunity to pass on his (what passes as) knowledge to newcomer Val, for a substantial fee of course, with his acting courses, courses created, you suspect, at that very moment. He even offers tasters of techniques, invented, like the classes, on the spot, utilising names he had probably heard real actors talk about. Techniques such as the Miserly technique, with a French accent, of repeating lines, a fraction of the Meisner Technique which encouraged instinctive acting, a demonstration of which instinctively filled in a scene or so in repetitions, or, even more bizarre, French pronunciation again, Ester expounded the Mamet technique of swearing a lot. The astute theatre aficionado might recognise David Mamet in there, best known for his play Glengarry Glen Ross which has a smattering of words here and there which aren’t actually expletives. Jake Collyer gives us an Ester full of bravado, belligerent, argumentative, in yer face, always right even when he is patently wrong. He is a star of stage and screen waiting to be discovered - the dreams of stardom, alas, being his personal Godot. Yet hidden beneath that is a sad man, desperately hoping and dreaming, clinging to a profession he is hardly suited for, a ham actor at best, passing on his desperate lack of knowledge and experience of the real “biz” to a newcomer who knows no better, pathos that perhaps could have been emphasised and exploited more.
Katie Johnson who hasn't got time to wait as the ASM helping to run the show night after night Alan Groucott’s Val bows to Ester’s superior (lack of) knowledge but only to an extent, questioning Ester’s more outlandish claims and statements, more for clarification than argument. Ester, meanwhile, lives in fear of Him, the director, Him being a woman in this case. To Ester Him is the arbiter of life and death, or at least employment and dole, the arrival of Him could mean the pair of understudies would be going on, or . . . going home. Val, patently a better actor already than Ester, amiably goes with the flow, taking life as it comes. Their only link with the outside world is the ASM, assistant stage manager Val, if you were wondering, who is there not to see the hapless pair but is looking for a waistcoat as the one Estragon is wearing on stage is far too large – remember the start? While Ester thinks she is Him, he shows her due reverence, which quickly becomes disdain when he finds she is merely an ASM which leads to her disparaging of actors, which in turn leads to Ester’s improv portrayal of a gorilla (don’t ask) and Katie Johnson’s ASM showing the easy job actors have by performing a dramatized excerpt of the lighting cue script. There are moments of drama, such as Ester’s fury and chagrin when Val announces he has signed up with a talent agent in the toilet during the interval, leading agentless Ester to prove he could pee just as well as Val – remember the start again. And there is Ester’s despair when his (wrong) waistcoat goes missing (it doesn’t) which in his unsure mind means he has been sacked. And there is a telling moment of drama, a shock, when real life, a real happening stops you in your tracks. Just for a moment the laughter, the meaningless absurdity of it all doesn’t matter, a simple moment of humanity trumping the humour. In between Hanson has redefined and paid homage to Beckett’s original. The staging is intentionally messy and minimal, while the sharp dialogue serves to emphasis the despair and hope, the acceptance and curiosity found in the classic theme of staving off the boredom of waiting all given a more modern and familiar setting. There is plenty to laugh at as our luckless pair grasp at the complexities of modern life, the vagaries of theatre and, well just being human. Knowing the Beckett classic adds another dimension but familiarity with the original matters not one jot. Hanson’s play stands, or perhaps rather waits on its own two feet. It’s funny, ridiculous at times, prods you into thought, and is simply a well written, clever and delightful comedy. Directed by Claire Armstrong-Mills, our pair will be waiting around to 15-02-25. Roger Clarke 07-02-25 |
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