Memory haunts the elderly male characters in this triple bill of Samuel Beckett plays, brought together by Trevor Nunn in a starkly compelling but uneven production. They can’t forget past sins or regrets, but they can’t properly remember them either. This is a typically mordant, witty paradox from Beckett. Another sign of his bone-dry humour is that two of these pieces require the audience to watch a character listening to something else.
As well as a bleak world view, the three works are united by Beckett’s interest in technology and effects. Krapp’s Last Tape (1958), performed by James Hayes, sees the title character listening to reel-to-reel diary recordings made in his younger days. His initial playfulness, relishing the words “spool” and “viduity”, shades into mockery, then anger at what he was, then profound regret at what he’s become. Hayes is a dynamic actor with a great capacity for pent-up rage and it is a shame that on opening night he briefly forgot his lines.
At least Krapp speaks. In Eh Joe (1965), originally written for television, Niall Buggy just listens, horrified, as the rhythmic, insinuating voice of Lisa Dwan exhumes the contents of his mind. A camera zooms in on his aghast mouth and leaking eyes, the image of his stricken face projected on the wall behind his head. It’s a masterpiece of contained acting from Buggy. Dwan, arguably our leading interpreter of Beckett’s work today, gives the voice’s allusive language a soft, lulling, hypnotic quality. There were moments when I realised I’d zoned out.
The third piece, The Old Tune (1960), was written for radio and built around sound effects, as two old soldiers bemoan the traffic rushing past and fail to cadge a light from passers-by. Ironically, a failed sound cue forced a pause and restart on opening night. The two men, played with understated relish by Buggy and David Threlfall, belong to the great tradition of maundering Irish characters. The piece is more obviously comic than the preceding two and feels like the odd one out.
Whatever the evening’s flaws and glitches this is a bracing and very finely acted dose of Beckett.
Until February 8 (020 7287 2875; jermynstreettheatre.co.uk)
January's best theatre
