During intermission at Waiting for Godot, the Sydney Theatre Company’s fantastic new production of Samuel Beckett’s most famous play, I overheard an amusing conversation. “What a cliff-hanger!” a young man remarked of the first act to a friend. “I wonder if Godot’s going to show up!”
He was being sarcastic, of course, and those within earshot chuckled knowingly. Waiting for Godot is a play in which, famously, nothing happens twice. Two men, Vladimir and Estragon, pass the time as best they can while waiting for a third man, Godot, to show up. Two other men, Pozzo and his slave, Lucky, come by. A young boy is sent to advise the men that Godot isn’t coming today but that he will certainly come tomorrow. All this is repeated, with a few depressing variations, in the second act. Were there a third, it would doubtless follow much the same template. Didi and Gogo ponder suicide. A lot.
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As statements on the human condition go, Waiting for Godot is pretty bleak stuff. Like most bleak statements on the human condition, however, it’s also a bit of a laugh riot. Stepping in for Hungarian director Tamás Ascher, who conceived of this production but was unable to travel to Australia to direct it, Andrew Upton handles the material with a light touch, never overstressing its heavier points.
Matthew Clayfield
Matthew Clayfield is a journalist, critic and screenwriter.
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