Beautiful Beckett at Facility

The thing about the sparse, curated verbiage of a Beckett play is that it is simultaneously about nothing and everything, just like our actual absurd existence. And the pitch perfect rendition of Endgame now on at Humboldt Park’s intimate Facility Theatre is almost a zen reflection of right now. 

Written originally in French in the shadow of post WWII, and translated by Beckett himself to be premiered in London in 1957, the one act "tragicomedy" is set in a post apocalyptic bunker. It offers a bleakly moving meditation on living, dying, being and relating. It is humorous but not cheerful. 

Endgame refers to a chess move as rivals move towards the conclusion, and the specific stage directions in the script (legally insisted upon by Beckett and his estate) dictate several movements that resemble moving the central character Hamm (played with unpleasant and yet compelling specificity by Kirk Anderson) around as if there is a chessboard.  Hamm is blind and paralyzed, and like the denizens of many nursing homes, he is heartless to his caregiver Clov ( played with compassion and dying hope by York Griffith) who has disabilities of his own. Hamm’s parents live in trash bins: his father Nagg, played with depth and inexplicable joy by H.B. Ward, and mother Nell, exquisitely portrayed by Shawna Franks, seem to actually love each other and share a history in touching conversation. 

Director Yasen Peyankov has led this ensemble to dark places but kept the audience safe in its struggle for meaning in this play.  This rendition is much funnier than I remember but we as a culture are much closer to living this nightmare than the last time I saw this show, so this masterful cast is able to hit closer to the bone.  And we come to actually care about these dismal creatures. I felt genuine loss when it becomes clear that Nell has died. And also relief since these characters seem to suffer deeply in their small and repetitive lives. And I also feel warned: these people do not treat each other well, and it only intensifies their misery. 

Buddhism teaches that all of life is suffering because we remain attached to impermanent things, and Hamm seems to cling to twisted stories like a zealot and/or a patient with early dementia.   Kirk Anderson’s industrial gray set and Richard Norwood’s flourescent tube lights suggest nursing homes in hell– indeed Clov channels the long-suffering care staff at any assisted living center. At one point I had an image that Nell and Nagg had already passed and the dustbins were ash urns that Hamm was hallucinating would speak to him. And Clov is the dementia trained staff that agrees with everything the patient utters so as not to escalate.  The play has always been about the possibly pointless wait for death, but now that our administration is hellbent on cutting Medicaid, how many Hamms and Clovs will become actual people locked in a daily wait for pain meds that have run out.  

A shout out to the subtle and critical sound design by Rick Sims: it added an ineffable something to the show that got under my skin. 

While Endgame is not what I would call “entertainment” it does feel essential. This is a play we keep going back to, so don’t miss it: Endgame runs Thursdays through Sundays through June 29th at Facility Theatre, 1138 N California Avenue in Chicago. For tickets and information go to https://facilitytheatre.org/end-game

For more reviews go to https://www.theatreinchicago.com