Fringe Theatre really is a most eclectic hotchpotch of performance art. One can go from the sublime to the ridiculous in the blink of an eye. However, the majority of Fringe productions are self-penned / new writing and only occasionally does a recognised playwright pop up into the mix; but when it does, they tend also to be extremely popular, to which this evening's sold out audience attested. Samuel Beckett isn't everyone's cup of tea either. He's a difficult playwright. His characters don't fit the 'norm', his storylines are 'odd', his writing punctilious and his attention to detail, immense. But when it's done well, one leaves the theatre feeling both drained and elated simultaneously; it requires a huge investment on the part of the audience to enter into Beckett's world, but it undoubtedly requires an even greater investment on the part of the actor/s - in this case just one - to create and people that world.
Beckett is dark, sardonic, bleak, but he is not without humour, although the humour is often found in the more unexpected places. Beckett is oblique and yet direct; comedic and yet pathetic (from pathos), and his characters are never truly likeable.
'Krapp's Last Tape', is a one-act play for just one actor. It tells the story of an aging man, alone, listening to old tape recordings of his 'diary', and attempting to record his latest entry. He uses a reel-to-reel tape recorder (I wonder how many people in the audience knew what this was prior to his using it?), and it is a ritual that he does once every year. We learn about his 39-year old self from the recording, and we understand how and why he is sitting in squalor and alone now, some 30 years' later. There is regret, love, missed opportunity, and disappointment in it all. It is a touching portrayal of a man realising he is all alone, and it has been suggested that in some ways the play was semi-autobiographical.
Seated at a desk - the only furniture on a bare stage - our protagonist sits staring into the void. He is lit the entire time by a single bulb hanging above the desk, and his every movement, simple gesture, grunt or spoken word measured precisely. He is not a nice man, and yet somehow we feel sorry for him.
In this production by Rising Moon Productions, the man was portrayed by Colin Connor, and it was directed by David MacCreedy. Both obviously had a deep understanding of and respect for this play and the playwright, and had created an intense, thoughtful, semi-humorous, yet touching characterisation of a man coming to terms with his past and his current situation. Connor was both vocally and physically superb, menacing yet pitiable, bringing about a nuanced and holistic performance which made for a compelling watch.
I should also commend Mark Simpson for his wonderful sound design too. The precision needed to stop / start the tape machine - allowing the sound to come from the machine as it was clearly doing and not over external speakers - was quite something!
Reviewer - Matthew Dougall
on - 27.9.21
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