Sated By Godot

Although I studied Samuel Beckett's Waiting For Godot at high school, I never really got it. Sure, being a seasoned Artisan of the Shite of the Bull, I knew enough to pontificate ("Existentialism, blah blah, futility, blah, blah") but I neither really understood it nor liked it much. Until last night.

Maybe it's an age thing, maybe it's a play that needs to be experienced as a performance on the stage rather than static on the page. But most likely it was the fact that it was a masterclass in beyond transcendent thespian excellence - Ian McKellen!!! Patrick Stewart!!! Simon Callow!!! Ronald Pickup!!! (Ok, I hadn't heard of the last guy either but his Lucky was sublime) Even the child actor playing The Boy in last night's production at the Royal Haymarket had the clearest, most melodic voice I've ever heard.

Other critics have found this production too comedic, too drained of its angst. But they may also be the type of people who enjoy sucking lemons and killing kittens. I loved it.

**** - 4 Plogs out of 5

(Lost point Beckett's fault, not this production's. This Big Fat Feminist is not a huge fan of Female-Free-Fables. I'm looking at you, Mamet!)