Waiting for GODOT

What do you think of when you hear Waiting for Godot? You might think of Spock and Gandalf hamming it up for a few hours. You might think of Robin Williams or Nathan Lane or Rainn Wilson or any of the other brilliant comics who have graced the stage with their presence. When I first learned about Waiting for Godot, I discovered that playwrights like Beckett were not deconstructing language and writing characters without consistency or objective just to be avant-garde. Historians agree that absurdism developed over time in response to the aftermath of World War II. Soldiers returned home to their families disfigured or in a casket. News was finally spreading about Auschwitz and other hidden horrors during the war. Is there a correct response to cope with such terrors? The writers of the time seemed to all gravitate toward the same philosophy: suffering is imminent, and the human experience cannot be understood. Any meaning we hope to find in our existence is readily squashed by the reality that our lives are full of contradictions and may never be understood.

As I considered how to present this story to a modern audience I was drawn to the meaning behind clothing and fashion. The aesthetic of the 40’s hobos were certainly a reference to Charlie Chaplin and other clowns of the time, but the rags and hats ultimately reflect loss and poverty. I sought to affect our audience in a similar way with an aesthetic that modern audiences are more familiar with. It might seem uncanny at first, but I hope by leaning into the apocalyptic wasteland that Beckett has already written into the story you might experience this a little closer to home.

So, what do we do in the meantime? We wait. We tell jokes. We mess around and tease each other and talk of religion and sex and pee and turnips. We wait for a Godot – a hope – that may never come. In retrospect, we learn that time can heal wounds and perhaps even whole nations. However, Beckett urges audiences to stay in the moment and experience the frustration, joy, and reward (or lack thereof) alongside these characters while waiting for Godot.

I would like to thank UW-Parkside for the opportunity to direct such a monumental piece of theatre. I would like to thank Mary Kerr and all of the theatre faculty, staff, and students for supporting and celebrating the cast, crew, and myself throughout this process. I would like to thank Amy Bates and Octavio Hernandez for always being an ear to bounce my ridiculous directing choices off of. Finally, I would like to thank Krista Hansing for keeping me sane, fed, and being my cheerleader and friend to call in lieu of a parent.