Sixth Form sees Beckett masterpiece
Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot – performance review
Just before Autumn half-term, Year 12 students were given the opportunity to watch a production of the 20th-century drama Waiting for Godot at the South London Theatre. In the live performance, the minimalist set design described in the stage directions is, of course, much more prevalent. Beckett uses minimal pieces of stage furniture and props to indicate a setting or location – that being a single tree in place of the barren surrounding area; or with Lucky’s long rope “leash” symbolising the alienation of the working classes or Estragon’s struggle with his boot satirizing the plight of human existence.
The stripping back of this set not only provides a contrast to Beckett’s mentor James Joyce, a maximalist, but also allows the audience to explore the conceptual focus with an intellectual response as well as emotional. Although empathy remains a crucial part of the play, the comedic aspects of the play – which were well-executed and more pointed when seen live – can lead the audience to question their responses after such a reaction to often dark or suicidal comments by the two protagonists. The fact that neither Vladimir nor Estragon can regulate urination due to their weak bladders is laughable despite its crude allusion to lack of control. Combining this with the idea of the ‘Theatre of the Absurd’ – a reaction to the disillusionment with religion and politics in post-war Europe – the audience are forced to take an active role and critically analyse the social and potentially political relevance of the play, despite its surrealist style.
Beckett used a number of techniques popularized by Brecht, a playwright mainly active in mid 20th-century Germany, whose primary focus was rebelling against Aristotelian tradition of theatre in which audience enjoyment and emotional indulgence superseded political commentary. Not only did Beckett challenge traditional theatre by following these techniques - minimalist set design, breaking the fourth wall (at one point Vladimir points to the audience, describing them as “a bog”) – he also contrasts the idea of catharsis, use of an idealized hero and building-block style plotline. The protagonists are not architects of their own downfall, instead victims of circumstance. Effectively, social, political and economic values replace the role of the gods. Perhaps this is why Beckett uses the subtitle “a Modern tragicomedy”, and also uses humour to make satirical comments on religion.
Although evident in class discussions, Vladimir and Estragon’s isolation and intimacy is also much more apparent on stage. Not only does the afore-mentioned minimalism highlight their isolation from society, it also draws attention to their friendship, which is often similar to a marital relationship. This defamiliarization of marriage, due to the omission of any female characters, could be seen to challenge the “masculine” ideals prevalent in 20th-century drama.
When watching the play, it was much easier to understand certain actions, e.g. repetitive lines like “nothing to be done”, which encapsulate the profound ennui Beckett must have felt as religious faith waned and as he lived through the German Occupation of France. The final act ended on a distinctly sobering note – Vladimir’s monologue was melancholic in tone, the actor captivating the audience in the thought-provoking commentary on the human condition. In conclusion, the play offered a fantastic insight into the way in which Beckett’s writing can be interpreted and transformed on stage, elucidating his stance on post-war socio-political structures and the growing sense of nihilism and agnosticism.
By Sophia Wyllie, Year 12
Dr Mellor also invited a student who had not seen or read the play to review it, to demonstrate just how shocking and unusual Beckett can be (especially without a framework for analysis), as he makes the familiar seem strange so that we are forced to actively engage with the play as an intellectual puzzle until we recognize that it is no more-or-less true to life than classical drama with its tragic falls and happy endings, and thus come to re-evaluate class-relations, human-relations, and the very purpose of existence. In spite of the brutality of Beckett’s update on Artaud’s “Theatre of Cruelty”, one purpose is to elicit compassion for characters ordinarily absent from classical tragedy or comedy, except as comic relief, namely the tramps, Vladimir & Estragon.
On Wednesday the 13th of October, most of the Y12 English students and I took the train to South London Theatre to watch their production of Waiting for Godot. As someone who had never seen the play before and doesn’t study it, I was clueless as to what to expect. The whispers in the audience beforehand of Waiting for Godot being “the play where nothing happens, twice” didn’t exactly bode well. The audience and theatre space were both fairly small allowing an intimate relationship between the audience and the actors as they were only a few metres away. The play opened with a spotlight on a man dressed in a tattered brown suit and hat sitting on the roots of a leafless tree upstage, right; the only object in the small, sparse set alongside a painted rural landscape as a backdrop.
Laughs were frequently emitted from the audience during the play’s opening but, as the play went on, there began to be a sinister conflict between the urge to laugh at comical moments and yet grimace at the cruelty displayed. My laughter as someone ran across the stage, attached to a long rope via a noose around the neck, was quickly quenched as the despotic master entered the stage, dragging his rope-attached slave behind him. The more we watched the slave Lucky quivering and convulsing with exhaustion and fear as he carried two of his master’s bags, with his jaw dropped and his wide, glassy eyes gazing at some unknown in the distance, the more we squirmed in our seats and reprimanded ourselves that we could ever have found a show of such cruelty comical; [his neck wound from the chafing of the rope was a minor masterpiece of make-up, conveying the violence of class relations – ed.].
Another example was Lucky being ordered to dance by the master and jutting his arms and legs out in a wild, ungainly dance as though wrapped in netting and attempting escape; this prompted awkward audience glances around the theatre as we wondered whether to laugh or just be grossly disturbed. In summary, watching Waiting for Godot wasn’t exactly the jolliest and most entertaining of experiences but it was broadly different to any play I had ever seen before, from the total lack of plot and action to the seemingly crazed characters, and I left South London Theatre feeling confused and disturbed. I'm not sure it’s a play that can be summed up by how enjoyable it was but a student described it as “depressing, but in a disgusting way”, which probably best describes my feelings on Waiting for Godot.
By Georgie Middlemiss, Year 12
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