Malthouse Theatre
12 July 2009
Merlyn Theatre, CUB Malthouse
As I feel uncomfortably stuck to my ergonomic chair and unable to move from the confines of my desk and the growing pile of deadlines surrounding me, I have a soft spot for Winnie. Overwhelmed, out of control, unable to move and pouring forth words to someone who may not be listening; perhaps Beckett wrote Happy Days as an allegory for writers?
Writers tend to like Samuel Beckett, so do actors and people who love to natter about symbolism over a glass of Annie’s Lane Shiraz and a wedge of King Island Brie. So, of course, we love Malthouse Theatre’s Happy Days.
Director Michal Kantor lets Beckett’s words speak for themselves, while shaking up the purist opinions and giving us plenty of post-post-existentialist ideas to ponder.
If you missed out on an arts degree, Happy Days is another one of Beckett’s plays where nothing happens, but this protagonist is buried in a mound of earth. In this case, a post-apocalyptic, jagged mountain of earth supported with shards of broken existences. Anna Cordingley’s design brings an unexpected impact to the work. The deco sculptures, the endless sky curtain and the incessant circle of stage lights sustain our curiosity and wonder, while the artistry of Paul Jackson’s lighting floods the stage with emotion and changes our perspective.
At the centre of this visual gorgeousness sits Julie Forsyth as Winnie. Forsythe is already a legend for playing the same role for Anthill in the 80s and this performance confirms her status. Faced with a deteriorating world and a life without hope, Winnie still finds enjoyment in her routines and her conversations with her mostly silent husband (Peter Carroll) who lives behind her in a cave and has a pot of Vaseline to help kill some time. There’s a gun in Winnie’s bag if she ever needs it, but who would consider such an act when there’s so many other things to do? She is the eternal optimist, or the ultimate passive aggressive who turns her controlling aggression on to herself. Winnie never forgets to mention her migraines or remind herself to count her blessings; she knows that it sucks being buried in a mound of earth, but also knows that she had no choice. Forsythe’s cheery Winnie is hopeful and funny, but she also lets us glimpse Winnie’s inner-self, who only wears a smile so that no one knows that she’s defeated.
I love listening to post-show and interval audience conversations. Happy Days had the usual share of “It’s not my cup of tea”, “I stayed awake for most of it”, “I love that blue curtain” and “I prefer something with a story”. I wonder why these people come to see a Beckett. I also saw them at the MTCs current Pinter, where they said the same (just replace blue curtain with tea towels). If you know you don’t like Beckett, Kantor’s production isn’t going to convert you , so stay at home and enjoy Masterchef, and give your subscription ticket to a financially-strapped actor who can’t afford to go and really wants to see it.
Writers tend to like Samuel Beckett, so do actors and people who love to natter about symbolism over a glass of Annie’s Lane Shiraz and a wedge of King Island Brie. So, of course, we love Malthouse Theatre’s Happy Days.
Director Michal Kantor lets Beckett’s words speak for themselves, while shaking up the purist opinions and giving us plenty of post-post-existentialist ideas to ponder.
If you missed out on an arts degree, Happy Days is another one of Beckett’s plays where nothing happens, but this protagonist is buried in a mound of earth. In this case, a post-apocalyptic, jagged mountain of earth supported with shards of broken existences. Anna Cordingley’s design brings an unexpected impact to the work. The deco sculptures, the endless sky curtain and the incessant circle of stage lights sustain our curiosity and wonder, while the artistry of Paul Jackson’s lighting floods the stage with emotion and changes our perspective.
At the centre of this visual gorgeousness sits Julie Forsyth as Winnie. Forsythe is already a legend for playing the same role for Anthill in the 80s and this performance confirms her status. Faced with a deteriorating world and a life without hope, Winnie still finds enjoyment in her routines and her conversations with her mostly silent husband (Peter Carroll) who lives behind her in a cave and has a pot of Vaseline to help kill some time. There’s a gun in Winnie’s bag if she ever needs it, but who would consider such an act when there’s so many other things to do? She is the eternal optimist, or the ultimate passive aggressive who turns her controlling aggression on to herself. Winnie never forgets to mention her migraines or remind herself to count her blessings; she knows that it sucks being buried in a mound of earth, but also knows that she had no choice. Forsythe’s cheery Winnie is hopeful and funny, but she also lets us glimpse Winnie’s inner-self, who only wears a smile so that no one knows that she’s defeated.
I love listening to post-show and interval audience conversations. Happy Days had the usual share of “It’s not my cup of tea”, “I stayed awake for most of it”, “I love that blue curtain” and “I prefer something with a story”. I wonder why these people come to see a Beckett. I also saw them at the MTCs current Pinter, where they said the same (just replace blue curtain with tea towels). If you know you don’t like Beckett, Kantor’s production isn’t going to convert you , so stay at home and enjoy Masterchef, and give your subscription ticket to a financially-strapped actor who can’t afford to go and really wants to see it.
This review originally appeared on AussieTheatre.com.
