Week #14 : 'EndGame' by Samuel Beckett

HAMM:  I wonder.  (Pause.)  

Imagine if a rational being came back to earth, wouldn't he be liable to get ideas into his head if he observed us long enough.

(Voice of rational being)  Ah, good, now I see what it is, yes, now I understand what they're at!

( Normal voice)  And without going so far as that, we ourselves...

(with emotion)  ...we ourselves... at certain moments...

(Vehemently)  To think perhaps it won't all have been for nothing!

Samuel Beckett, the God of Absurdism, brings us a disastrously tragicomedy in one long act.  EndGame, the tale of four misfits living their rudimentary lives in a post apocalyptic world, not in any hope of gaining a better one, but just - to be.

Living in a cyclical stasis, Hamm and Clov discuss the world, it's complexities and the nature of beginnings and endings, whilst being completely alone and devoid of happiness.

Clov and Hamm

Hamm is the Protagonist of EndGame.  All though his obnoxious and disagreeable behaviour at times makes him the Antagonist to his man-servant, Clov. Blind and completely imprisoned (we assume, by old age) in his wheeled chair, Hamm continuously comments that no one suffers more in life than he. For Hamm, there is no reason for being on this Earth, particularly not in the damp and chilly hole where he also polices over his parents - Nagg and Nell.

HAMM:   In my house. (Pause)

(With prophetic relish) One day you'll be blind like me. You'll be sitting here, a speck in the void, in the dark, forever, like me. (Pause.)

One day you'll say to yourself, I'm tired, I'll sit down, and you'll go and sit down. Then you'll say, I'm hungry, I'll get up and get something to eat. But you won't get up. You'll say, I shouldn't have sat down, but since I have I'll sit on a little longer, then I'll get up and get something to eat. But you won't get up and you won't get anything to eat. (Pause.)

You'll look at the wall a while, then you'll say, I'll close my eyes, perhaps have a little sleep, after that I'll feel better, and you'll close them. And when you open them again there'll be no wall any more.  (Pause.)

Infinite emptiness will be all around you, all the resurrected dead of all the ages wouldn't fill it, and there you'll be like a little bit of grit in the middle of the steppe.  (Pause.)

Yes, one day you'll know what it is, you'll be like me, except that you won't have anyone with you, because you won't have had pity on anyone and because there won't be anyone left to have pity on you.  (Pause.)

Clov is the Antagonist of EndGame (and as his character is more downtrodden and worn out – He is the more likable character and therefore assumes the role of Protagonist in our minds).  He is the servant to Hamm despite his own disability – Clov cannot ever sit, he is forever walking – often pacing from one side of the room to another and looking out the windows for something.

Adopted into his household by Hamm as a young boy, the play's tension centres around Clov's yearning to leave against his feelings of responsibility to stay with Hamm (an obligation he constantly questions throughout Endgame). Clov constantly attends to Hamm and his relentless commands, such as wheeling him around the dank hole, relaying the landscape outside the windows, giving Hamm his medicine and covering him up at night.  Clov has inexorable juxtaposing emotions of hatred and bonds to Hamm.

CLOV (as before):  I say to myself— sometimes, Clov, you must learn to suffer better than that if you want them to weary of punishing you— one day. I say to myself—sometimes, Clov, you must be better than that if you want them to let you go—one day. But I feel too old, and too far, to form new habits. Good, it'll never end, I'll never go.  (Pause.)

Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don't understand, it dies, or it's me, I don't understand that either. I ask the words that remain— sleeping, waking, morning, evening. They have nothing to say.  (Pause.)

I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.  (Pause.)

It's easy going.  (Pause.)

When I fall I'll weep for happiness.  (Pause. He goes towards door.)

Nagg and Nell

Nagg is Nell's husband and Hamm's father. Living (or should I say – Not living, as Nagg and Nell are in all aspects of the word – dead) in a rubbish bin next to his equally ‘binned’ wife.   He arises every now and then to yell out for food or to try, and always in vain, to kiss Nell and retell the identical story he always tells (we assume on a daily basis). Often, especially when demanding food, he is childish, barely verbose, but sometimes he can be quite profound and articulate.

Nell is Nagg's husband and Hamm's mother. She is resigned to the routine and sameness of their existence, professing the frequent attempt and persistence of Nagg to kiss her a "farce." Nell, as a character, is minimal and not important to the plot, she appears to be the only reason Nagg keeps ‘living’ and is the the sole example of a normal relationship in the play.

NELL (without lowering her voice):  Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. …  ... ...  Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more. 

Hardly a verbose play, the dialogue is frequently one to three words in response from Hamm's musings and barking orders and Clov's responses.  Some of the longest sections are the stage directions for Clov.  They are long, detailed and highly important to the characterisation of EndGame.  The first entry to the play is Clov walking from one window, getting up on a chair, getting down and walking to the other side of the stage, only to repeat the same movement.  this is a long and laborious task, but gives the audience a clear depiction of the characters and the world that they are living in.

It is extremely  difficult to describe this play.  I suggest, if you have a week spare:

Read it.

Muse over it.  

Put it down.

Pick it up again and sigh.

Put it back down.

Stare at it wondering if the next time you attempt to read it, it will make a little more sense.

Pick it back up.

Read it.

Put it back down.

Sigh.

Pick up a pen.

Pick up the script again.

Read it and scribble notes all throughout the script.

Put it back down.

Sigh in realisation that you will NEVER fully grasp the complexity of Beckett's writings.

CLOV (straightening up): I'm doing my best to create a little order.

 (Don't ask why there is a red background to the text........ Grrrrrr... I have no idea why it is there and how to get rid of it......  Blogger is getting worse and worse to use.)

Next Week: 'Love, Loss and What I Wore' by Nora Ephron

Week #13 : 'Hedda Gabler' by Henrik Ibsen

“I am mortally bored to be everlastingly in the company of one and the same person.”

Hedda Gabler, the belle within her social standing, has just returned from her honeymoon with her new husband George Tesman, a colourless and forever tedious lecturer, to their new ostentatious villa given to them (under great sufferance) by Hedda’s aunt.

Upon their return from their overseas honeymoon and Tesman’s research trip, they receive many visitors to congratulate their union.  Tesman’s Aunt Juliane brings news that his Aunt Rina is on her death bed.  Mrs Thea Elvsted secretly ruminates her love for her children’s tutor Ejlert Lovborg, whom has just written a book to rival Tesman’s lifelong work and has the chance at ruining his career.

Throughout all of these untimely visitors, Hedda is cruel and callous to those who deign to become her friends.  She is deliberately and viciously rude to Tesman’s Aunt.  She conspires to move Thea and Lovborg together, only to rip them apart again by giving Lovborg the ‘ammunition’ to destroy himself.  She destroys the only manuscript of Lovborg’s book and treats their housemaid with disdain and condescension.

All to what gain?  There are many reasons, the main one possibly is for Hedda's own personal gratification.

In 2004, Sydney Theatre Company produced Hedda Gabler with Cate Blanchett at the helm with Hugo Weaving as Judge Black. This traditional setting directed by Andrew Upton was probably one and the last that we have seen with Ibsen 1800s traditionalist costumes and set.

This year, Australia's most revered playwright Joanna Murray-Smith took it upon herself to reinvent this classic for the South Australian stage.  When I say 'reinventing' I don't mean in a 'Simon Stone-kind-of-way' (not that there is anything wrong with that!! I adore his adaptations); Murray-Smith stayed true to the plot line and importance of the main character and Ibsen's classic writings for strong female characters. She updated the script within a modern framework, whilst keeping the tradition of Ibsen's work alive, and added a few tongue-in-cheek references to liven up the script and bring it bouncing into 2013. 

 Taking the title role of Hedda was Alison Bell, best known for her work in ABC's series Laid and for Sydney Theatre Companies performance of Doubt.

Director Geordie Brookman opted for a non traditional set for his production making the text and it's translation speak entirely for itself. Again, the costumes were minimalistic allowing the actors portray at the characters all the more important because they didn't have the stereotypical 1800s costumes to hide behind to help viscerally adopt the seriousness of the content.

Ben Brooker of the blog Marginalia commented that "the most remarkable thing about Joanna Murray-Smith’s adaptation of Hedda Gabler – which replaces Henrik Ibsen’s hermetically-sealed world of the Norwegian bourgeoisie in the twilight of the 19^th century with a slice of contemporary upper middle class Australian suburbia – is how unremarkable it is. That is not to say it is bad, but that it is good for a curiously self-defeating reason: that it leaves so much intact. Whole lines of dialogue, and even several longer exchanges, come across from earlier English translations virtually unchanged in Murray-Smith’s one act version. Her most original contribution is her first-rate line in barbed humour which makes its way into a great deal of the dialogue."

Along with No Plain Jane (another Australian Arts blogger) who also commented that:

"Perhaps one of the dangers in adapting Hedda Gabler to a contemporary context is the way that women’s place in society has changed in 120 years. Ibsen’s women, his Hedda and his Nora in particular, were revolutionary in their portraits of middle-class women unhappy with their lives, questioning society, and, ultimately, taking control of their own destinies – in radically different fashions. It would be all too easy for a contemporary Hedda to not ring true: while women are still under many pressures and societal expectations, today’s women are, on the whole, more activated both inside and outside the home. Yet, Murray-Smith’s adaptation brings with it startling relevancy, none more so in the ever-prevailing expectation and tension on women to become mothers: here, this conversation feels shocking but in no way false."

Next year the new Director in Residence at Belvoir St Theatre Adena Jacobs will be tackling this text.  It will be interesting to see what take she will have on the play and female lead.  Jacobs has a flair for strong female characters and I think that this is an excellent choice for her to approach in her first appointment at Belvoir St.  Will she heavily adapt it, as per the state of theatre in Australia at the moment? Or will she subtly maneuver the text into the 21st Century as per Murray-Smith??

I certainly think there is a place for adaptation. There are those out there that think that this contemporary theatre practice is ruining the theatre for emerging artists. (Check out this scathing articlehttp://m.theaustralian.com.au/arts/the-local-voices-being-swept-off-the-stage/story-e6frg8n6-1226651624628?sv=4d4d97a3d6abaddf86efff684124e275)  There has been extensive research gone into this area, especially by Alison Croggon, Australia's most outspoken theatre spokesperson - and all for the triumphs and waves that new Australian theatre is bringing. Theatre is a burgeoning area that the needs of the many (and the few) are being indulged, but also bent treated with respect.

You can read Alison Croggon's views on Adaptations Vs New theatrical works here: http://m.theaustralian.com.au/arts/review/hooked-on-classics/story-fn9n8gph-1226648616479

I also highly recommend you read the Andrew Upton (co-Artistic Director of Sydney Theatre Company) Phillip Parsons Memorial Lecture delivered on the 2/12/2012 at Belvoir St Theatre.  It is a stirring speech about Theatrical pursuits of the many and the few.  It made me triumphant and tearful all at the same time.

http://www.theaustralian.com.au/arts/theatre-is-a-place-of-here-now-and-destiny/story-e6frg8n6-1226528488602

(Sorry about the messy links.... I really with they would update the blogger app for the iPad to have the ability to embed links in posts.)

I LOVE Australian Theatre. It is such a small scope of what happens here, yet the Directors, Producers, Actors and blossoming major and indie companies are becoming more recognised for the passion that goes into the works and the tremendous output and brilliant productions that are happening across this land. I would not ask to be anywhere else right now.

I realise that this post is a week late, unfortunately due to some personal issues I had to delay this entry.

Next Week: 'EndGame' by Samuel Beckett

Week #12 : 'Philadelphia, Here I Come!' by Brian Friel

On the night before his departure to a new life in Philadelphia, Gareth (Gar) O’Donnell resists this huge change in his life and doubts his big move. 

Gar is a troubled mid 20-something living in a stagnant household alongside his elderly father S.B, without having a familial relationship.  They treat each other as if they were only ‘boss and employee’, working father in their little shop that contains a mish-mash of items, and not father and son.  Madge, the exasperated  housekeeper, is the only member of the household that creates any warmth or family love within the household, whilst still keeping to her employee status.  With her traditional ‘old Irish lady’ antics, Gar sees her as a motherly figure (but not as a replacement for his mother, who died 3 days after his birth.)

‘Philadelphia, Here I Come!’ is set during the dire times of the 1950s in Ireland dubbed the ‘doom and gloom’ time, the worst since the famine in the mid-1800s.  Agriculture was the mainstay of the Irish economy and in the 50s there was a huge decline in this area.  The state did not put in sufficient effort to develop new industries to help boost other areas, therefore as a consequence there was insufficient work available for the thousands of young males in Ireland.  Most young people knew the only way they were going to make a life for themselves was to immigrate to another country with more prospects – America was seen as the ‘land of opportunities’.  This is where we see our protagonist headed towards.

Throughout ‘Philadelphia, Here I Come!’ we are introduced to various encounters with:

Ex-girlfriend and daughter of a Senator - Kate

Sloppy and lazy friends - Ned, Tom and Joe  

Old school principal – Master Boyle

Local Parish Priest - Canon Mick O’Byrne  

Relatives in America who are sponsoring Gar’s travels and employment opportunities in the USA – Lizzy and Con Sweeny and their friend Ben Burton.

However, there is one character left to be mentioned….. that is Gar O’Donnell….. Yes, there are two of them – the public Gar and the private Gar whom only the public Gar can see and hear!  These are the two views of the protagonish.  The private Gar is the man within, the conscience and alter ego, the secret thoughts – The ID.

The female characters are the ones who spurn the content.  Maude in her constant packing frenzy getting Gar ready for his immigration, Kate (or Kathy as Gar often calls her) who the audience can see as more of a direction to wanting to be loved rather than Gar specifically loving her.  And Lizzie, the motherless Aunt, who is seeking a surrogate to love and adore as her own.  These women are the driving forces for Gar to move overseas for a life change.

The men, however, are the juxtaposition within the plot.  Gar and his father have no relationship to speak of.  His old school principal thinks gar is a no-hoper with no drive and smarts to find his way on the world.  The Parish priest who is not interested in helping Gar through his big change.

This is where the private Gar comes into his own – his wit and tenacity for belittling these older men and their penchant for drinking, sitting around and not living life to the fullest.  Private Gar mirrors S.B’s routine and mocks his monotonous and completely predictable existence.  Private Gar ridicules and belittles these older men and becomes increasingly frustrated towards their existence.  Private Gar especially demeans S.B and his nightly routine after work and before bed, following and mirroring his movements and commenting on his unchanging bedtime standard as a fashion walk.

It all comes to a head close to the end of the play when Private Gar speaks fluently and full of emotion cradling these deep-seated thoughts that Public Gar has always hidden in the recesses of his mind:

“Listen! Listen! Listen!  D’you hear it? D’you know what the music says? (to S.B) It says that once upon a time a boy and his father sat in a blue boat on a lake on an afternoon in May, and on that afternoon a great beauty happened, a beauty that has haunted the boy ever since, because he wonders now did it really take place or did he imagine it.  There are only the two of us, he says; each of us is all the other has; and why can we not even look at each other? Have pity on us, he says; have goddam pity on every goddam bloody man jack of us.  To hell with all the strong silent men!”

His friends are stuck in the same routine and rut that Gar is familiar with, yet wanting to change (even if it is a reluctant change).  These three young male friends vocalise the frustrations that the three older men embody.  This is important to understand as this is the one thing that both Public and Private Gar are trying to move away from and is crucial to understanding the predicament that Gar is in – Should he leave his comfortable life for a new adventure or stay behind and grow into a mundane existence so much like his fathers and the same direction where his friends are headed. 

Music plays an important part within this production.  The 'Public' Gar is often singing or humming in his bedroom, particularly 'California, Here I Come', interchanging 'California' with 'Philadelphia' (...for obvious reasons!) and some traditional Scottish ditties, to take himself away from the situations and abate his fears.  

In Act One he listens to the First movement of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

At the very start of the Second Act, we hear the Second movement of Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, which creates a slightly differing feel to the first.  The first movement is quite somber and filled with emergency, whereas the second movement is more uplifting and slightly more joyous but still in-keeping with the tone of the first.  We can feel the difference in the character though this music - We know that Gar is more determined to succeed in his new life path than earlier in the play.

Keeping in tone with the setting of 'Philadelphia, Here I Come!' is the traditional Irish Ceilidh band music which is completely uplifting and makes you want to do a jig around the bedroom!

All in all, a beautiful read on the matters of the heart versus the head and the strong pull that each of them have on our mundane existence.

Next Week: 'Hedda Gabbler' by Henrik Ibsen