Waiting for Godot
Written by Samuel Beckett
Directed by Jimmy McDermott
At the Redtwist Theatre in Chicago
Produced by Redtwist Theater
A review by M. D. Ball of the performance on Aug. 20, 2009
This review contains spoilers.
Can a theater company create a feeling of infinity? Can they make an audience envision, for example, a circle, which neither begins nor ends? Or a line, perhaps? Even though each of these geometric structures is infinite, a line still implies the possibility of an end. But the lives of the protagonists in this play are circular -- even somewhat sinusoidal -- certainly not linear. And Redtwist's production of Waiting for Godot succeeds in tracing out that circularity by making one feel the tedium of cyclic repetition rather than the monotony of an endless sequence of events.
That reference to tedium, by the way, is a compliment to the company. Godot is a very difficult play to perform well, irrespective of the director's interpretation or that of each actor in the cast. Boring an audience is easy, but keeping their attention while trying to create an atmosphere of boredom is no small undertaking, especially when that boredom, real or apparent, is itself the point of departure.
Because Waiting for Godot stubbornly resists interpretation, the play is an exemplar of immoderate analysis; it typifies works of art that allow us to superimpose symbolism on almost anything. From that stubborn resistance, therefore, comes the irresistible urge to interpret. This is hardly surprising, given that art is ultimately subjective and sentient beings are necessarily conceited.
Is Godot the savior whom humanity, represented by Estragon (Gogo) and Vladimir (Didi), awaits? If so, then mightn't Pozzo be a religious leader (the Pope, perhaps) and Lucky his obedient disciple? In the Marxist alternative to this religious interpretation, might Pozzo represent the capitalist oppressor and Lucky the tyrannized worker? We can find a symbol even in Lucky's very name, a symbol of his happy station in life insofar as he doesn't have to amuse himself to pass the time. Or does Godot represent not the object of expectation but the act of expectation? If so, does the act of waiting for Godot imply that human life is a sort of existential purgatory?
In fact, Didi launches the play by puzzling over the story of the two thieves who were crucified with Christ (Luke 23:39-43). Why, he wonders, does only one of the four gospels mention that one thief was saved? Does a man have a 1-in-8 chance of salvation? If so, random chance seems to be behind everything that happens in life, for even the Bible, the font of truth for much of the world for millennia, reduces salvation to a matter of probability.
Although it's often argued that the thematic center of this play is hope, such a reading is too simplistic, I think. If hope is at work in this play, it's merely a means to an end. Human beings are on an incessant quest for distraction, whether frivolous or substantive, and at no time is distraction better medicine than when it directs our consciousness away from something we fear. Out of sight, out of mind. Nevertheless, the distance between distraction and delusion can go by in the blink of an eye. While waiting for Godot, day after day, Gogo and Didi come alarmingly close to delusion. They distract themselves from the fact that they're waiting for Godot, and they're waiting for Godot in order to distract themselves from that which they can't bring themselves to face. In other words, Godot is their delusion.
No matter how long they wait, the imaginary Godot isn't going to show up. All the hope in the world won't change a falsehood into a truth, even if hope makes that falsehood easier to bear.
The Redtwist cast, particularly Mike Nowack as Vladimir and Bob Wilson as Estragon, captured the circularity of this play. They made the repetitive verbal banter between Didi and Gogo sound like litany. Their smoothly choreographed pantomime hammered out cyclicity, even periodicity, the best example being the frenetic and sharply executed exchange of hats among Gogo, Didi, and Lucky. Their delivery had the character of infinite repetition rather than infinite series, and, consequently, they held our attention.
Nowack and Wilson, however, didn't allow the repetitiveness to stagnate in mechanical emptiness. Their Gogo and Didi were aware of the futility of endless repetition and of their stasis as two men trapped in a delusion. Each actor brought out the discomfort his character felt on the turning wheel, but revealed the relief that the distraction of waiting for Godot brought. Nevertheless, because a perpetual motion machine doesn't exist, all human trajectories converge onto the same outcome. (And what a grand illustration -- or vindication -- of the Second Law of Thermodynamics.) This is why it's not unreasonable to argue that Gogo and Didi know their precious distraction will eventually evanesce and they'll have no choice but to accept the inevitable, whatever it be. Nowack's Didi and Wilson's Gogo conveyed this. Therefore, not just languishing in ennui, they showed us the subtle but palpable anguish one would expect from proud men who are desperate to avert their eyes from what they fear.
The most engaging performance, however, came from Andrew Jessop in the role of Lucky. Jessop's characterization was rich with personality and enigma. Through voice and gesture he managed to convey frustration, obsequiousness, confidence, resoluteness, and exhaustion. In the first act, moreover, he was even a bit creepy, which served to heighten the mystery of his identity. And an unforgivable disservice it would be not to mention Jessop's dazzling elocution of Lucky's speech, which, apart from showing us the actor's technical skill, forced us to grab for snippets of meaning but left us with the realization that Lucky was just reciting a thoroughly memorized monologue. That monologue brought us back to the play's disturbing circularity.
As Pozzo, Noah Simon delivered the requisite polished theatricality, along with a viciousness that opened the way for Jessop to develop Lucky's character. Bluster and pomposity issued from Simon's Pozzo, but without his becoming a caterwauling lummox.
Redtwist's production of this play captured the essence of a futile cycle, or, more accurately, it found in this play the feeling of a satellite in decaying orbit. Whether or not their interpretation of Godot accords with my own, they clearly understood how to make an audience sense tedium without being tedious. In turn, they could invite the audience deeper into the experience of Didi's and Gogo's perplexing world, a world rich in unsettling but fascinating implications that urge a re-examination of our perspective on human life.