Endgame at du Players

I saw a production of Samuel Beckett's Endgame at duPlayers on Tuesday night. I think it was actually a group renting the space and attempting to get tourists to see the show; the advert featured an artist's rendering of a well-known image of Beckett, this time with a slight smile that made the whole thing look slightly cartoonish. (A couple months ago a met a group of tourists from San Jose, CA and they were looking for an Irish play to see and there weren't any on that weekend. They probably would've been very excited if Endgame had been playing then. Of course what was playing at duPlayers that weekend was the production of Brilliant Traces which I had seen at the Rathmines Festival and which I recommended wholeheartedly.)

The ticket cost most than most shows at the Project Art Centre and had a lower production value which was disappointing. Overall, it was enjoyable, especially Nag. Mostly I enjoyed seeing Beckett staged. I forget how used to Hamm with glasses I become until those few moments during which he removes them and then I feel uncomfortable. There's lots of those small revelations throughout that are disconcerting while drawing me in to pay closer attention.

I was slightly disappointed when there were entire pages of dialogue or monologue in which the actor(s) seemed to have not found a point. I recalled a comment made by a friend about the pain of sitting through bad Beckett. I recalled the underwhelming production Allergic to Beckett that I saw at Bewley's. And then I marveled at the human capacity for self-deception that I see so often in the theatre: did that actor really believe he was conveying some deep truth simply by articulating lines written by Beckett? did that woman sitting in my row who continuously sifted through her large handbag believe she was paying attention to the performance? did I think that seeing a performance is ever less than the entire experience of audience, script, and performance?

Perhaps it's the point I am at in my dissertation or the many conversations I've had recently about the nature of theatre and theatre audiences... I don't know why I find myself dazed in the face of analysis. Saying I did or did not enjoy the experience doesn't convey much information of any use to anyone else. And yet I don't know that I have any commentary or criticism that will offer anything of use or value. Of course if someone happens to read this who was considering attending the production of Endgame it might be of value to her/him.