Nothing to be done...

Rather bored of musicals, I decided to explore off-Broadway for somewhat more serious theater. Last night, I caught a fabulous performance of Beckett's "Waiting for Godot" (yes, I hadn't seen it before. no, I am not a loser, I think.)

Sometimes subtitled "A Tragicomedy in 2 acts", Waiting for Godot is a richly layered absurdist play, examining the existential dilemma in "I think, therefore I am." It is a play that constantly trespasses the limitations afforded by reality. Yet, a deeper, perhaps philosophical, confluence inspires a dark and tragic verisimilitude.

The extremely bare decor works at two levels. At first sight, it seems to be in consonance with the overall inescapable nothingness borne into the very DNA of the play. "Nothing to be done" is one of my favorite quotes from the play. However, the Spartan layout, also helps contrast the complexity of the play: a lot like the disparity between the plainness of the material universe and the labyrinthine intricacy of Raskolnikov's mental interiors in Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment.

But Waiting For Godot is not just a tragic commentary on the emptiness that pervades life, it is also incredibly hilarious. The conversations between Didi and Gogo (the two tramps), as they wait for Godot (who never really shows up), by the tree on a country road are awfully entertaining.

There's no point in describing the plot here, because I could do so in a couple of sentences, and it would hardly capture the essence. So I say, "There's nothing to be done (or said), but to go and watch it!"

Random quote:

Vladimir: Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be? (Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again. Vladimir looks at him) He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (Pause) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He listens) But habit is a great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon) At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause) I can't go on! (Pause) What have I said?

A good wiki article for more details, here.