The new staging, at Center Stage N.Y., 48 West 21st St., while not being a revelatory or particularly powerful one, at least serves as a reminder of the greatness of this play, which, when it was new, confounded and unsettled most of its audiences and was rejected on many fronts.
?Waiting for Godot,? as produced by the Tangent Theatre Company, comes over, perhaps, as a better-than-usual college staging of the play, with a nicely paired Estragon and Vladimir in the secure and accomplished persons of, respectively, Michael Rhodes and Greg Skura.
The presence of actor Rhodes in this most voluble of modern plays brings with it a certain irony, since, earlier in his career, he spent several seasons in the wordless role of the son in Edward Albee?s ?Three Tall Women.? Now the actor has found his tongue, or, more properly, Samuel Beckett?s tongue, and he?s using it here with insight and dexterity.
The sharp-jawed, bright-eyed Gogo supplied by Rhodes is neatly matched by the thicker-set, somewhat saturnine Didi of Skura. They are obviously comfortable in the routines, rendering them to strong comic effect and, when it?s required, a certain depth of feeling.
Paul Molnar?s Pozzo is a nifty bravura turn, while his ?slave,? the ironically named Lucky, is delivered with precision and force by Jeffey M. Bender, whose famous monologue late in the play?s first act is a highlight of the production.
The ?Boy,? appearing briefly toward the conclusion of each act, is served up by Noah Longo with an innocent sweetness that?s entirely suitable to the occasion.
The ambiance delivered by set designer Eric Southern is composed of the elements Beckett specified: a tree, a rock and, when the time comes, a rising moon. The skeletal tree, which magically acquired a rather poignant little clutch of bright green leaves during the intermission, has, in this production, a particularly graceful aspect.
The rock is somewhat less successful, while the upstage left radiator, although being given a coat of gray paint, stands stolidly as a reminder of the problems faced by barebones producers trying to do honorable work in a difficult venue.
Samuel Beckett in general, and perhaps ?Waiting for Godot? in particular, could certainly be described as an acquired taste, but even so, it?s difficult to understand the protracted furor that erupted when it opened in Paris in 1953.
When the play reached New York, the response appears to have ranged from outrage to guarded approval. The New York Times considered it ?one of the most fascinating plays of the postwar theater? but hedged its bet slightly by describing it as ?grotesquely beautiful and utterly absorbing.?
To Walter Winchell, that self-appointed arbiter of literary quality, the event was ?indecent, immoral? and ?a great bore.?
It remained to the Times of London to call it ?one of the most noble and moving plays of our generation? and ?a play suffused with tenderness for the whole human perplexity.?
That final phrase could, in a way encapsulate almost everything Samuel Beckett wrote.
The Tangent Theatre Company?s ?Waiting for Godot? is something of a by-the-numbers operation, but the nobility is in place, and so is the overwhelming tenderness. Above everything, the play is always welcome.