We’re All Born Mad. Some Remain So.
Richard points out that Waiting for Godot is playing at the Stanley Theatre (sorry, the Stanley Industrial Alliance Stage) this month. He’s planning on attended, and I’d highly recommend that he does. The reviews have been positive, and the director–Morris Panych–is something of a Canadian icon.
More importantly, in my (among many others) opinion, Waiting for Godot is the finest play of the twentieth century. It would probably be my desert island play, if push came to shove (off). If you were only going to see one play in your entire life, I’d be hard pressed to recommend another. Hamlet, maybe, but it’d be a close-run thing.
I’d go to this production, if not for the fact that I saw an incredibly wonderful version in Dublin, on the 50th anniversary of the play’s first staging. As the Irish Times put it, “It is probably the closest we will ever get to the perfect official Godot”.
Coincidentally, I was corresponding with somebody by email today, and writing of my lifetime passive-aggressive affair with the Canucks: “My love for and hatred of the team are equalled only by my certainty of their failure. And yet I watch. It’s like a Beckett play.”
April 5th, 2006 at 1:14 pm
There’s a great comment at the Beyond Robson link I pointed to: “I laughed a lot, and left the theatre feeling kinda depressed. I think Beckett would be happy with that.”
April 5th, 2006 at 2:12 pm
RE: Canucks.
It’s the ultimate non-abusive, abusive relationship. It’s the essense of living in Vancouver. You tell yourself you’ll never give them another chance, they can never make up for the disappointment and heartache they’ve created, the promise they’ve squandered through laziness and lack of focus and carelessness, then you go back.