Friday, October 27, 2006

Waiting For Godot, New Ambassadors, London

The thing about Beckett is that it means whatever I want it to mean, and pertinently, I've seen this twice so my opinion is especially worthwhile this week. I've also recently been reading Don Quixote.

Yet what both actors poignantly express is the Terror of Isolation - so much so that at one point one of them pretends a boot is a baby! It is through details such as these that Beckett's play becomes a metaphor. A poignant one.

It is tempting to shoehorn in some politics. Pozzo is a capitalist. This isn't the point, and i've only mentioned it to point out that this isn't the point. Everything is political! Apart from this bit, which is about a swelling need for desperate companionship. Lucky delivers his monologue and then falls over, which rather proves my point.

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