Theatre Review: Happy Days

 The Play: Happy Days by Samuel Beckett

Who's putting this on? The Melbourne Theatre Company

Where? The Southbank Theatre, Southbank

Until: 10 June

Stars: 4 (with a caveat or three). 

Happy Days is a polarising play. 

Samuel Beckett is a polarising playwright. 

Judith Lucy is a polarising performer. 

And because of these statements, you're either going to love this or hate it. 

Oncoming out of tonight's performance, Jay said she found it to be a heap of pretentious tosh. 

I was far more complimentary, but I was prepared going into the play. Jay was not. I'm an English Major with a decent working knowledge of Absurdist Theatre. I'm versed in the works of Samuel Beckett. I've read Beckett's muse, Billy Whitelaw's autobiography, who spends a couple of chapters on this, one of her most famous roles. And I have read, and adored Claire Thomas's The Performance, which is a book which is based around this very play. (A book I highly recommend.)

What do they say about being forewarned is being forearmed? 

I'm glad I was prepared. It greatly heightened my appreciation for the play.

I also remember booking this play talking to another friend who was also sorting out her MTC subscription. This play didn't make her short list. She doesn't like Judith Lucy. 

If you're coming to see Judith Lucy, the comedian, you're not going to find her. 

Also, if you're coming to see a play with a cohesive story, you're not going to find that either. 

What you are going to get is an hour and a half of a middle-aged woman buried up to the chest, talking about her day in no real order, not really saying much - yet saying everything. Winnie (Lucy) is the eternal optimist, despite her predicament. Next to her, she has a bag, in which she has an umbrella, a mirror, a lipstick, a hat and the ominous gun (Was it Chekhov or Ibsen who said if there is a gun on the wall at the start of Act One, it has to go off near the end? It was Chekhov). 

Winnie is married to Willie (Hayden Spencer), of whom we (thankfully) see very little. He has very little to do other than be a useless, and menacing presence in the background, being of no aid to Winnie, who by the end of the play, is buried up to her neck. 

Petra Kalive's direction is firm and assured. Beckett is not easy at the best of times, and she has done a fantastic job ensuring this keeps moving towards the play's crescendo. The set looks like a big ant hill, but that's what's so effective about it. 

And Samuel Beckett's words, written over sixty years ago, are still pertinent and haunting, as Winnie contemplates live, the universe and everything from her chokehold, unable to move, or run. All she can do is sing, or scream - and you wonder about the gun. 

The set of Happy Days, pre-show. 

For me, the standout was Judith Lucy's portrayal of Winnie. It was finely nuanced. From my seat eight rows from the front, I could see every minute detail of her face. She was excellent in this - a real breakway from her comedy persona. She commanded the stage and the script. What she's achieved in this is pretty wonderful. That we're the same age is a little disconcerting. 

This certainly is not a play for everybody. I appreciated the stagecraft, the performance and Beckett's incredibly pertinent and affecting words. But I wouldn't expect many to agree with me. 

(And if you do see this, I highly recommend getting hold of a copy of Claire Thomas' The Performance. It will make you consider the play in a number of other ways.)

Today's song: