So I saw the much-vaunted Waiting for Godot at the King’s yesterday. Ian McKellan. Patrick Stewart. Simon Callow. And someone else.
The set was stunning. A kind of crumbling and dilapidated yard-scape with the back of some houses or warehouses lined with pipes, a couple of sides of balconied buildings, some bits of fences and higgledy-piggledy paving stones and a floor board lined stage. Oh and a spindly tree. With 3 to 4 artful leaves added to it in the second act.
The lighting was stunning. Lots of gobos. Lots of bright to dusk effects. And a few pointed sound effects here and there. I guess to make the audience realise which bits were important.
The play was less strange than I’d expected it to be. Though I say that but I did nap through a portion or two of the first act so I’m probably not best placed to judge. I’m sure it’s all very meaningful. And I can see how this study of futility could appeal in the current economic climate. But I certainly won’t have understood much of it. I should try reading it for starters.
Patrick and Ian were magic. Yes, Ian was more of a ‘character’ with a suitable somewhere northern tramp’s accent. Patrick eerily like Ian Aldred Stewart played showman who delivered his lines with aplomb rather than becoming the patient hobo in front of your very eyes. And Simon Callow was extraordinarily larger than life but having read his autobiog, that does not surprise me. And the poor mostly silent man who dragged his bags around on the end of his lead seemed to do a very serviceable job.
But it was beautifully directed. The interplay between McKellan and Stewart was quite marvellous to watch. The timing was exquisite. The vocal range would have satisfied even the most grudging SCDA adjudicator I think. The choreography such as it was, was lovely to look at and appeared effortless. And it was funny, a lot of it. As Ross said, if we had got our hands on it, it would have been a much more tortuous offering.
This aside, my weekend has been cultureless. Too busy eating, drinking and socialising. With a couple of gym classes thrown in to ease my fattened conscience. So my Antig rehearsal schedule still sits unfinished. If only I was an insomniac…
The set was stunning. A kind of crumbling and dilapidated yard-scape with the back of some houses or warehouses lined with pipes, a couple of sides of balconied buildings, some bits of fences and higgledy-piggledy paving stones and a floor board lined stage. Oh and a spindly tree. With 3 to 4 artful leaves added to it in the second act.
The lighting was stunning. Lots of gobos. Lots of bright to dusk effects. And a few pointed sound effects here and there. I guess to make the audience realise which bits were important.
The play was less strange than I’d expected it to be. Though I say that but I did nap through a portion or two of the first act so I’m probably not best placed to judge. I’m sure it’s all very meaningful. And I can see how this study of futility could appeal in the current economic climate. But I certainly won’t have understood much of it. I should try reading it for starters.
Patrick and Ian were magic. Yes, Ian was more of a ‘character’ with a suitable somewhere northern tramp’s accent. Patrick eerily like Ian Aldred Stewart played showman who delivered his lines with aplomb rather than becoming the patient hobo in front of your very eyes. And Simon Callow was extraordinarily larger than life but having read his autobiog, that does not surprise me. And the poor mostly silent man who dragged his bags around on the end of his lead seemed to do a very serviceable job.
But it was beautifully directed. The interplay between McKellan and Stewart was quite marvellous to watch. The timing was exquisite. The vocal range would have satisfied even the most grudging SCDA adjudicator I think. The choreography such as it was, was lovely to look at and appeared effortless. And it was funny, a lot of it. As Ross said, if we had got our hands on it, it would have been a much more tortuous offering.
This aside, my weekend has been cultureless. Too busy eating, drinking and socialising. With a couple of gym classes thrown in to ease my fattened conscience. So my Antig rehearsal schedule still sits unfinished. If only I was an insomniac…
posted by Claire at 8:16 am
2 Comments:
Interested to read your thoughts on this. Having seen (and hated) a production of this last year, not even Stewart, McKellen and Callow could get me anywhere near this. I loved Patrick Stewart in 'Hamlet' so feel it's a dreadful waste that they couldn't have done something more to my taste - or just anything I hadn't sworn never to see again...
Interesting. The much-mentioned DG hated Patrick Stewart in Hamlet. I thought he was great in Godot. I can well see that a terrible production of it would butcher any pleasure you might ever get from the play. I guess I was just lucky. And I wouldn't rush to see it again, that's for sure!
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