Krapp’s Last Tape (tour – Guildford, Mill Studio)
|
|
31 March 2013
Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape
is one of those strange theatrical gems that is rarely performed, and
it’s easy to see why. Only 11 pages long and with barely 20 minutes
of dialogue, the one-man play follows the unfortunately named Krapp
on his 69th birthday making his annual memoir recording
and listening to past years’ tapes. A poignant and complex play,
the overall sadness that emanates from this play lingers long into
the night and resonates with the audience.
As the audience are let in to the studio space
they are greeted with the sight of an unconscious Krapp slumped over
the desk. Rather than being awkward, this is an excellent
introduction to the lonely world of this ageing firecracker. The play
is full of subtle flashes of sadness which Fiona Baddeley’s
production teases out. There are no stilted addresses to the
audience, rather Baddeley’s direction has Tom Owen’s Krapp
completely internalised and self-serving. It shows beautiful
restraint and prevents the play from ever tipping over into
self-indulgence.
Owen has a dynamic mix of bottled fury and pitiful
sorrow. His frail physicality contradicts the bitterness at which he
riles against his former self and despite his cranky nature, the
audience empathise with the state he finds himself in. Krapp’s tape
recorder acts as a second character, sending messages from the past
which Owen reacts to. Owen’s voice is interchangeable and manages
to bring out the extremely erotic undertones in parts of the play,
whilst rattling the emotional cage he finds himself in.
Although not easy viewing, Krapp’s Last
Tape is an impressive theatrical achievement and Owen gives
a dynamite performance; few actors can yank the audience’s
attention out of complacency and thrust it to a tape recorder without
saying a word.
