Waiting for Godot

Gratuitous Violins rating: **1/2 out of ****

When I made plans for the Broadway shows I saw earlier this month, I figured Exit the King would be an absurdist appetizer before the main course - Waiting for Godot. (Pronounced God-oh here, but which I'd always pronounced Guh-doh, on the rare occasion when I needed to pronounce it at all.)

Written in French by Irish playwright Samuel Beckett in the late 1940s, Waiting for Godot is considered the masterpiece of theatre of the absurd. And according to at least one survey, conducted in 1998 by Britain's National Theater, it's the most significant English-language play of the 20th century.

Whoa, pretty heady stuff, no?

So I was looking forward to the Roundabout Theatre production, featuring Bill Irwin and Nathan Lane as the two forlorn tramps, Vladimir and Estragon, who are waiting for the mysterious Godot. (I just realized that Estragon is kind of an anagram for strange or stage. Hmmm.)

But knowing that theatre of the absurd often has very little plot and kind of nonsensical dialog, I was worried it might not make much sense. Sadly, my instincts were mostly correct. Maybe I'm not smart enough or patient enough but I have to admit that I just didn't get it.

Irwin and Lane are kind of funny being sad and hapless. I thought John Glover was terrific as the nearly mute slave, Lucky. And it was fun to see John Goodman, as Pozzo, his master.

In the end, though, neither Irwin nor Lane one made a very lasting impression on me. I didn't laugh very much and I didn't take away any deep meaning. It's not that I expected a physical comedy with lots of slapstick. But I didn't care about these two characters as much as I should have. Honestly, I was a little bored.

Like many absurdist plays, Waiting for Godot was written in the aftermath of the death and destruction of World War II and the advent of the Cold War. Santo Loquasto's set design - a stage filled with boulders and one scraggly tree, certainly conjures up some post-apocalyptic world.

I guess you could say that Vladimir and Estragon represent two sides of human nature - Vladimir is more philosophical, Estragon more concerned with the necessities of everyday life. And the fact that one day in their lives seems pretty much like the next could be taken as some kind of metaphor about the futility of human existence, like Camus' Myth of Sisyphus.

Or maybe it's about God, even though Beckett always denied that. I don't know. You can read a ton of theories here.

My favorite theory is that Beckett is teasing the audience, that there really is no profound, deeper meaning in Waiting for Godot, even though we continually look for one. Personally, I think the answer to what this play is about can be found in the very first word.

I was so interested in philosophy and theatre of the absurd when was younger but I never had a chance to see any of the plays. Now, I've seen two and I think that may be enough for quite some time. I'm still game for a challenging play but I like a plot, too.

So, after all these years, was Godot worth the wait? I'm kind of torn. Even though this production didn't engage me all that much, the play is considered a landmark. Now I've seen it - and I can move on. I'm done waiting for Godot.

Exit the King

Gratuitous Violins rating: *** out of ****

I think I was probably a senior in high school when I first became intrigued by theatre of the absurd.

I've always been interested in cultural history - the way artists and writers respond to events going on around them. And I knew that many of the plays in this genre had been written in the aftermath of the death and destruction of World War II and the advent of the Cold War.

Back then, the questions those works raised seemed so deep and profound. - What was the meaning of life? Was human existence ultimately futile? (I could go on but it would just be morbid and anyway, you get the idea.)

My philosophical ruminating was all so theoretical, though. In those days before cable, even before VCRs, I don't think I ever actually saw any theatre of the absurd - I'd just read the plays and analyses of the plays.

So imagine my shock three decades later when I settled into my seat at the Barrymore Theatre to watch Eugene Ionesco's Exit the King and found those theoretical questions, embodied in Geoffrey Rush's Tony-winning performance, suddenly seemed all too real. This was no longer an intellectual exercise.

Rush plays Berenger, a 400-year-old monarch who, we learn right at the beginning of the play, is dying along with his crumbling kingdom, represented so well by Dale Ferguson's set and scenic design. (Best prop - the tiny suit of armor statue. I want one!)

I know this sounds like a cliche but Rush made me laugh and he made me cry (or come close to it.) He gives an incredible comedic performance as he tries to stall, bargaining for more time, unwilling to accept the inevitable - a little bit slapstick, a little bit vaudeville. It's almost as if they invented the phrase tour de force to describe it, he's such a commanding presence in this role.

But his performance is way more than simply doing shtick. There's a point where he gets serious and talks about wondering where the years went, learning to accept his fate.

I know Rush and director Neil Armfield, who first staged this production in Australia, intended the audience to see some modern political parallels. But honestly it was the personal, not the political, that made the biggest impression on me.

As a dying monarch working his way through the stages of grief, Rush made me think of people I've loved who are gone. He made me think about how 30 years can pass almost in the blink of an eye. Isn't that really the most absurd thing of all - how quickly time passes. Watching him at that moment was almost unbearable. And I mean that as the highest compliment.

But I don't want to give the impression that Exit the King is a downer of a theatre experience. It's a very funny play.

I thought Andrea Martin was hilarious as Juliet, the royal family's long-suffering servant. Brian Hutchison was great, taking a small role as the palace guard and playing it to the hilt. Lauren Ambrose was good as Marie, the younger and more adoring of Berenger's two queens who fawns over him and wants to spare him the pain of realizing that he's dying. And I liked William Sadler as the doctor who tries to give the king a big dose of reality.

As the older Queen Marguerite, Susan Sarandon seemed to be playing things a little straighter than everyone else in the cast. To some extent, that was her role - she's tired of Berenger, has no sympathy for him and wants him to accept his fate and just go already. I'm not sure Sarandon hit quite the right note but I've enjoyed so many of her movies over the years that it was great seeing her onstage.

I think my biggest criticism is that Exit the King does drag a bit. By the end of Act II, I was getting a little squirmy and just wanted the king to finally make his exit. When he does, it's one final, stunning moment in Geoffrey Rush's amazing performance. I am so glad I had a chance to see it.

Double the absurdity

For Theatre of the Absurd fans, it's another reason to rejoice. Not one but two classic examples of the genre will open on Broadway this spring. Who says life has no meaning? (That's a joke! For more background, click here or here.)

Geoffrey Rush and Susan Sarandon will star in a revival of Exit the King, by Eugene Ionesco. Previews begin March 7 at the Barrymore Theatre. And Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot, with Bill Irwin, Nathan Lane, David Strathairn and John Goodman, starts previews April 3 at Studio 54.

This production of Exit the King, directed by Neil Armfield, was presented at the Belvoir St. Theatre in Australia in 2007, with Rush in the title role. A review in the Sydney Morning Herald raved about the Oscar-winner's performance.

Now, allow me to indulge in some shameless name-dropping. No, not Sarandon or Rush. I once met Eugene Ionesco. (Yes, I know, my brushes with greatness are rather obscure.)

I heard him speak in Boston when I was in college and I got his autograph afterward. (I went with a cute French boy I'd met in the campus bookstore!) Ionesco was nearly 70 then, and a kindly, formal gentleman from what I remember. He signed my copy of Tueur sans gages (Known in English as The Killer.)

Sadly, it's been a long time since I've used my high school and college French, so I can't read the play in its original language anymore. And I lost touch with the French boy. Quel dommage!

I've been waiting for Godot

Even before I started going to the theatre regularly I always enjoyed reading about it. As far back as high school, I liked reading plays and reading about playwrights.

For some reason, when I was a teenager I became especially fascinated with the theatre of the absurd. I read up on playwrights like Eugene Ionesco and novelists like Albert Camus. (You can see where this is leading - the futility of human existence. Even thinking about it now makes my head hurt.)

I don't know why I was so interested - absurdist plays often don't have much of a plot. I could never really figure out what they were about, although I guess I must have enjoyed trying. Maybe I found something appealing in the very fact that they were incomprehensible. Okay, I was a little intellectually pretentious, I know. Maybe I was searching for the meaning of life. (Unfortunately, I never found it, so if you know what it is, please share.)

Luckily, I didn't take my infatuation too far. I never started wearing a beret or carrying around volumes of Sartre or smoking Gauloises. Although I did read Simone de Beauvoir's The Second Sex and I once went to hear Eugene Ionesco speak in Boston when I was in college and got his autograph. I think I lost interest soon after that. I haven't read or thought about the theatre of the absurd in a long time. I'm still game for a challenging work but now, I like plot - lots of plot.

Of course, the most famous absurdist play is undoubtedly Waiting for Godot, by Samuel Beckett. A poll of 800 playwrights by Britain's Royal National Theatre named it the most significant English-language play of the 20th century. (Never mind that it was written in French!) I first came across the title while reading Notes On a Cowardly Lion, John Lahr's excellent biography of his father, the actor Bert Lahr, who appeared in the 1956 Broadway production of Waiting for Godot.

While I did read Waiting for Godot a long time ago, I've never seen it performed. In fact, for all of my youthful curiosity, I'm not sure I ever saw any theatre of the absurd performed. How absurd is that! (This was before VCRs and DVDs remember. I didn't have many options). I guess, like Vladimir and Estragon, the play's two main characters, I've been waiting.

So I was pretty excited when I read an article in Playbill yesterday about a Broadway revival of Waiting for Godot slated for 2009. (Whenever I think of Godot now, I think of that line from the song "It's a Business" that producer Carmen Bernstein sings in Curtains: "He mounted Samuel Beckett, I don't mean it like it sounds.")

Steve on Broadway has a terrific preview of the production and the history of Waiting for Godot on the Great White Way. For more background, you can listen to a discussion about the play that aired on the radio program On Point in 2003, the 50th anniversary of Waiting for Godot's Paris premiere.

As for me, I'm just hoping that after all these years, I'll actually have a chance to see some theatre of the absurd on stage. I can hardly wait!