See this play
(a review of the Theatre Entrance production of Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, 142 University College; Monday, January 27, 1992, continuing January 29 - 31)
by Ian Klymchuk
(President, Lucan Chapter, Philistine Liberation Organization)
"Whaddya mean there's no football on tv?" I bellowed at the wife. We were making plans for the weekend, and I had invited Benny to bring his ailing heart over to watch some football on Saturday night.
What a pair of goofs. We just assumed there'd be a bowl game of some sort. We had some serious man-talking to do, and it was best done with a two-four in front of a football game.
"And whaddya mean he's bringing his old lady? Don't tell me you two have cooked up another of your schemes to cram some culture down our throats..." Once or twice a year, Benny's old lady and mine think they can get us to give up man stuff and go sip some white wine somewhere and do something cultural. Benny and I usually go along with it, but only if it's too late for us to come up with a good excuse to get out of it. So they usually wait 'til the last minute to spring their cock-eyed plans on us.
Tonight we was in for it. They had decided we should see some experimental theatre up at the U. Something meaningful, which really means about as exciting as blowing your nose.
I tried to grab a hip flask as we was leaving, but the wife caught me. So we had to face the ordeal sober.
Now, when I go to the theatre, I expect a theatre. With padded seats. I don't expect a classroom at the U. I also expect dim lights and a curtain and all the trappings. I don't expect a classroom at the U
|Waiting for Godot is a weird play. A bunch of jerks about as dumb as linemen huddling all the time, waiting for someone to play quarterback and to call the next play. Every once in awhile, the coach sends in some play from the sidelines, but they're so dumb they can't figure out what to do with it. And some of it was funny.|
I gotta confess I enjoyed it. I've been dragged to this play before by the wife. In fact this was the fourth time she'd made me see it. And this was definitely the best. Better than the 1978 performance by the English dept at the U; better than Bedford and Pennell at Stratford a few years back. This job was different and much better.
It's pretty easy to follow what these kids are saying. I work on the line 38.25 hours every week, and I'm always waiting for something to happen. Yeah, there are diversions, like the time the foreman got caught with the boss's secretary and the time Benny thought he was having a heart attack. But we put in our hours and we go back. Same thing.
But these kids did a bang-up job of saying it. I can't tell you too much about how they did it 'cause I don't want to spoil it for you. Trust me. It's worth seeing, if you like this stuff.
I just hope you're luckier than Benny and me. Afterwards the wives dragged us off to a fern bar for some white wine and cheese.
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