Written by Gary Wilmot
Directed by Sydney Stevenson
Review by Marina Funcasta
When writing a play about the act of waiting, boredom is almost an inevitable attribute. To wait is to test endurance; it demands a level of patience. This doesn’t have to be a limitation. Beckett sought its fertility; as did Pinter. New to the lineage of existential two-handers, Gary Wilmot provides a modernised, perhaps more hopeful, iteration to the canon, although sadly with little impact.
While They Were Waiting is an enjoyable show. Though points felt more stagnant than others, the performance is engaging. Wilmot himself is a strong actor, matched by his counterpart Steve Furst. Their chemistry is sleek, and through the direction of Sydney Stevenson, the two bounce between the stage with synchronicity. Evolving from strangers to acquaintances to friends, the script is strong in its portrayal of growing, tentative intimacy. The final tableau in particular is surprisingly raw, and for this reason I felt Wilmot’s piece to be refreshing: there is an interesting commentary here on the way masculinity has grown in the past fifty years.
The characters are of particular relevance. Wilmot’s own character, Bix, largely undefined, must be figured out through a more peripheral lens to Mulberry. This is because, starting the show, Mulberry’s tone pushes much of the performance forward. This isn’t to say Bix isn’t strong: his presence, though inobtrusive, is bold. Warm and funny, Bix represents the artist figure who uses their time in joyful ways (dancing, singing, joking). Mulberry, his foil, is fierce, alerted; he is an adult in the way Bix is a child, a pragmatist in the way Bix is a dreamer, cynical where we find Bix is whimsical. In brief, Mulberry loves to wait, to let time pass, even as fierce individualism simmers beneath the surface.
Redeemed by the end, by inserting the theme of convalescence, Mulberry is pitiful, in retrospect. Only when he admits he is dying does he seem open to experiencing love. This invites a metaphorical reading: perhaps ego, and the fight against mortality, is what isolates us from one another. It is a shame more is not done with this structural device, and by inserting an ‘encore’ scene towards the end felt an odd, and perhaps diminishing, theatrical gesture. Even so, there is something refreshing in the final, physical positioning of our actors. It feels especially pertinent today, drawing from an age-old, almost martial, concept of brotherhood. This gives the play a heavier ending than perhaps intended.
Refreshing
While They Were Waiting runs at Upstairs at The Gatehouse, London until March 22nd
Photo Credit – Isabel Beiboer.
Review by Marina Funcasta (contact@corrblimey.uk)
Marina is halfway through an English literature degree at Edinburgh University, wherein she has been (considerably) involved in the drama scene: enjoying performing with their Shakespeare Company shows, but also modern takes on Arthur Miller. However, Marina’s interests are wide-ranging under the theatre genre – enjoying abstract, more contemporary takes on shows (with a keen interest in Summerhall)
