"Godot" Arrives in Boston

A downtown road. No trees. Evening.

Directed by Judy Hegarty Lovett, the Gare St Lazare Players’ 60th anniversary production of “Waiting for Godot,” which played through Sunday at the ArtsEmerson Paramount Center mainstage, met the audience like an old friend. Given the unyielding notoriety of the playwright Samuel Beckett in not allowing any changes to the mise-en-scène of the play, the Gare St Lazare Players were as precise as a clock whose methodical unwinding of the absurdist masterpiece greatly contrasts with the contents of the play. In general, when staging classic plays directors strive to add an original interpretation to the body of already existing productions. However, in the Gare St Lazare Players’ “Waiting for Godot,” Lovett made sure that dramatic finesse had the upper hand over directorial innovation so that the modernism of Beckett's text shone through with its dazzling account of existentialist yet fundamentally comic human inertia.

The centerpiece of Ferdia Murphy's minimally elegant set design is a large, round, ashen platform slightly tilted towards the audience, one of the very few hints that illustrate Lovett's vision for “Godot.” A backdrop featuring a giant full moon seems to mirror this platform, while the lower branches of a willow are just visible overhead. The proximity of two large circles to one another creates recalls the dialectic between the actors and the audience: the fourth wall easily crumbles when the tilt of the stage reinforces the characters’ outwardly directed lines. It is true that such lines in “Godot” are often overtly addressed to the audience, sometimes as Beckett’s text explicitly states, but the nature of the comedic effect––silly, unknowing, acerbic––or the chilling effect really depends on the formal elements of the staging, and from Murphy's bare set and light designer Sinéad Mckenna's almost natural moonlight, the world of “Godot” easily slid into ours.

Needless to say, the quality of acting was superb; however, Lovett resorted to a couple of unconventional dramatic choices that left a different Beckettian flavor on one's lips. To begin with, when Vladimir (Conor Lovett) and Estragon (Gary Lydon) contemplate hanging themselves from the willow in lieu of waiting, the playwright reveals that Vladimir is supposed to be the heavier one. This is not the case in Lovett's production—Estragon was more corpulent than the thin and tall Vladimir. Likewise, through delicate emotional gradients, Lydon gave depth to a character who is often thought to be the stereotypical embodiment of the working-class man, one for whom sheer physicality is the most significant attribute. On the other hand, Conor Lovett reduced the traditionally more pensive and intellectual Vladimir to a childlike caricature who skips and bounces when not delivering one of his signature existentialist monologues. Although the actor’s mannerisms made one think that Vladimir's monologues were toned down to an elementary school audience, his naive know-it-all attitude struck a unique balance with the sculpted acting of Lydon. Lydon’s emotional depth was even more pronounced when Pozzo (Gavan O'Herlihy) and Lucky (Tadhg Murphy) arrived onstage.

While portraying the boisterous and imperious master of Lucky, O'Herlihy as Pozzo devolved into exaggerated highs and lows that were not too out of place given the turbulent gestures of the character himself. However, his gestures were clearly out of sync, and he did not seem to be communicating with other actors on stage. This discontinuity makes one think that he could have had his own one-man show without changing a single aspect of his performance. Finally, Tadhg Murphy's Lucky—arguably the character that Lovett takes most directorial liberties in re-interpreting—briefly outshone all of the three more elderly actors by delivering a gem of a monologue as a robot-like human The otherwise silent role of Lucky still maintained a mechanical coherence, as Murphy gave a machine-like edge to his movement even as he slumped under the weight of Pozzo's bags.

The overall effect of Gare St Lazare Players' “Waiting for Godot” was nothing less than impressive. A little bit discordant at a first glance, the play revealed itself as one that has gracefully aged­­, with still enough room for original interpretation. It really was like an old friend, unchanged but witty as ever after 10 (or sixty in the case of “Godot”) years––though of course, with a couple more creases.

—Staff writer Gökcan Demirkazik can be reached at gokcan.demirkazik@thecrimson.com.