An absurd tragicomedy that plays on the themes of existentialism, parentage, and storytelling.
Set in a post-apocalyptic dystopia, there is a chilling and unsettled edge to Endgame as the shadow of death haunts the characters. This is cleverly done from the off, as ghostly fabric hides the set pieces and a blank picture frame hangs on the wall. Staging is minimal and effectively chosen overall; this is not a home as most would recognise it.
The play treads the line between horror and humour, with a comic duo popping out of dustbins in which they seem to live, and it is certainly not an easy watch as the characters grapple with the fruitlessness of their existence. Deliberately revived as a reflection of modern society, the combination of desperation and apathy shown in turns by both main characters is alarmingly relatable and incredibly interesting.
As the show nears its conclusion, it begins to drag a little, aided by the constant reference to “the end” (though thankfully the end of the play was not the end of the world), but this does invite the audience to commiserate with the boredom that the characters are experiencing. It was also difficult, given the nature of the story, to know when it was building to a conclusion.
However, all four actors did an excellent job throughout, delivering humanity in equal parts entertaining and infuriating, and each incorporating a distinctive physicality that gives a clear insight into the character from before they open their mouths. The occasional inconsistency there was not enough to break suspension of disbelief. Beckett is often touted as a must-see in adult life, and this adaption made it a pleasure.
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