A Beckett Rhapsody was the subtitle for this Canadian stage production, directed by Jennifer Tarver. She knows how to direct Beckett, so we were keen to see this collection of short plays, especially after last season’s trio. Keith was nervous when he heard about the operatic connection.
The evening started with two singers, standing in the aisles singing. Words were either non existent or in another language. The next section had a man struggling to get a bottle of water hanging in the air. Barious tools were presented to him, none of which quite reached. Eventually he gave up in frustration.
More singing. The next section had two men, lying in bags on the stage wake, dress, undress and get back in their bag. One after the other, unaware of the other as anything but an obstacle.
Next section. Three characters encased in baskets, take turns speaking. Sort of a conversation, with each speaker lit by the fourth actor who took a seat in the front row to manipulate the spotlight.
Final section. Two men, sitting at a table, one reading to the other. The text keeps returning to the phrase that there is nothing more to say. Eventually, there isn’t and the curtain closes. Seventy seven minutes. No answers. Not even any questions. Definitely Beckett.