Estragon and Vladimir
Waiting for Godot
Photo: Elana Emer
Coal MineTheatre/ Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, directed by Kelli Fox, Coal Mine Theatre, closes Oct. 12.
Given the dismal tenor of the times, Waiting for Godot is inspired programming on the part of Coal Mine Theatre.
If you read the play as an embodiment of pessimism and a cry of despair, Lucky’s monologue is the key to Beckett’s nihilism.
From the 600+ word outburst of pseudo intellectual gibberish, one can extract a parody of intellectual discourse, a critique of all systems – religious, academic, and scientific, the collapse of meaning, and the futility of thought.
Looking at the play overall, one finds an emphasis on general moral decay, human helplessness, and the inability to learn anything from the past, which all segue into Beckett’s overall bleak view of memory, time and sense of self.
On the playwright’s theme of codependent couples – Vladimir and Estragon, and Pozzo and Lucky – Beckett demonstrates that human connection offers no comfort, yet isolation is unbearable.
The French version of Waiting for Godot premiered in 1953 followed by the English version in 1955, but no matter in what decade there is a production, Beckett’s masterpiece always has relevance, and never more so than now.
Without doubt Waiting for Godot is one of the greatest plays ever written.
Each production of Waiting for Godot is going to look very similar because of the rigidity of the playwright’s stage directions which are highly specific and tightly controlled by the Beckett estate.
The silence, the pacing, the gestures are all prescribed. Gender swaps, location changes and altered dialogue are prohibited and even small deviations can violate performance rights. The script’s precision must be kept intact at all costs, as I understand it.
Thus, the only place directors and actors can exercise their art is with character presentation and even this is somewhat limited by dialogue.
What I found in Coal Mine’s offering was four fine actors who belonged in different productions, because for me there was no sense of ensemble.
In other words, each actor taken alone presented a worthy performance. It just didn’t go with the others.
Alexandar Thomas’ Vladimir was just too blustery for Ted Dykstra’s muted Estragon, rendering the latter’s performance rather ineffective.
Jim Mezon’s Pozzo came on with such force he could blow a roof off a house – it was just too much, it was overkill, which made Simon Bracken’s Lucky, already a shadowy figure, almost invisible.
This imbalance of characterization carried on throughout the entire production no matter how well the actor conveyed the role, and I repeat, they were all very good actors. Nonetheless, I felt I was seeing each character in isolation.
Did it mar the impact of the play in any way? Not really, because nothing can diminish the strength of the play. I’m convinced that Martians could be reading the dialogue and Beckett would still shine through.
Needless to say, every Waiting for Godot set looks identical with the tree in the upper right corner. In this case designer Scott Penner elected to have mounds of earth brought in to represent the empty landscape. Ming Wong designed suitable character specific outfits, while Louise Guinand’s lighting was surprisingly warm.
Young Kole Parks played Boy who brings the message that Godot is yet again not coming. And that perhaps is Beckett’s most cruel joke – that it is a child, the future generation, who brings the grim news that there is no hope.
In short, Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot is a gift that keeps on giving and will continue to do so for decades to come.