Tag Archives: Roundabout Theater

Brian Bedford’s The Importance of Being Earnest at the Roundabout

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Another day, another drenching of wet snow to struggle through, adding the misery of a full body contact subway commute with people whose horrible taste in music pounds through their earbuds. Anyhow, as I intended to write, last night I went to see one of my favorite plays of all time, the one I write my university thesis on, have seen on stage four times, and viewed every movie version of, The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde directed by Brian Bedford.

It de-ceded expectations. Perhaps because I was bringing so much to it, I lost a naive enjoyment of it. Surely a joke is bound to lose some of its funniness when I already know the punch line. Yet I also think I have some distinct opinions about how to deliver the mannered and difficult lines (with preferably less camp) and really about how to do the whole play.

Two perfect things: the set and Brian Bedford (also the director) in his role as Lady Bracknell. He was perfect, and every line of his was a joy to hear. The campy Algernon, and over-modulated voices of the Gwendolyn and Cecily, and character roles the servants took on, and the histronics of Miss Prism–somehow none of them hit the right note of artificiality. They were all too excitable about it, not nearly languid enough. Dr. Chausable and Jack were actually rather good. They ham up the obvious theatrically of the piece rather than treating it with the upmost seriousness.

While it didn’t live up to my expectations, Wilde’s brilliance is unsquashable and it is a serviceable rendition. True to Wilde, “The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily.” The New York Times reports this morning that the critically acclaimed show’s run is being extended.

Apropos my discussion yesterday against the glorification of Nature in Schiller, this quote of Wilde’s seemed deliciously suited:

“I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delicate exotic fruit; touch it and the bloom is gone.” – Lady Bracknell, Act 1

Waiting for Godot at the Roundabout, Just “To Give the Impression that We Exist”

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In the interminable dialogue of Waiting for Godot, it’s hard to pin down the exact moment you realize what a bleak farce it is, how brutal humanity, or what little value life has. But it seeps out of every crack of the dialogue and every fissure of the character’s faces. The play goes on and occasionally you laugh, but, if you’re like me, you grimace more often.

My poor boyfriend thought he was going to a light comedy last night, and he turned to me in the middle of the first act to whisper, “This is horrible.” “Yes,” I enthusiastically agreed. Horribly, brilliantly good in this adaptation by the Roundabout Theater.


The Roundabout puts on a lively version of it, relatively speaking, and Nathan Lane, Bill Irwin, John Goodman, and John Glover create a sense of crackling immediacy as these good-times clowns float over the darker undertones with Vaudevillian abandon. I agree with the NY Times’s Ben Brantley who feels he has never known the play to pass so quickly. They allow the play itself to be the star here, with the rhythm of unending cycle, with its half-hearted jokes, with its struggle to use up its time.

Goodman with his floundering bulk was fantastic. Glover’s Lucky is horrifically wonderful, especially in his entrance and the revelation of his neck. Irwin and Lane were at ease and competent. Yet “Didi? Diiiidi?” coming from Nathan Lane’s mouth is the most cloying part of the performance, where Lane seems to be playing himself rather than Estragon. It’s that strident voice of his that doesn’t belong in this play.


It’s an astonishing play really. I’m shocked at how great it is: how sparse, how suggestive, how open-ended and complete. So despite my better judgment (and probably my sanity), I’m off to wallow in the bleakness of the script. You know, ‘to give the impression I exist’ and all that. Between this play and Lear, I might need a little cheering up soon.

Oh, and like Lear, I’ve managed to review this play just before it’s run ends. Sorry–I plan to work on that.

k