Madam, – Krapp's Last Tape, now playing at the Gate Theatre, invites the audience to witness the pain, alienation and regret of Krapp – Michael Gambon, in a deeply compelling and affecting performance – as he reflects on what was, what might have been and what now is. Much of the drama is acted rather than spoken, Krapp's actions speaking louder than his words. Observing him, especially in the first 10 minutes of this 55-minute play, as he awakens, moves, explores, eats, listens and struggles to make meaning of his existence, one is struck by how much is expressed, is communicated in silence, the absence of language, the power of the yet-unsaid creating a connection between the audience and this dishevelled, shuffling man on stage.
My engagement with Michael Gambon’s performance, however, was regrettably experienced through a filter of the most insensitive and inappropriate behaviour by a significant number of the audience at last Saturday week’s evening performance at the Gate Theatre. As well as the now inevitable intrusion of a mobile phone ring-tone, the soundscape also included the noisy exodus of three patrons – patrons? – from the auditorium at various stages during the play. Is it not possible to attend, to participate for 55 minutes?
Perhaps most painful of all was the persistent and totally distracting soundtrack of coughing and sniffing that competed for attention with the drama that was unfolding on stage. The coughing, in particular, was impressive in its variety, ranging from the dry, brittle clearing of the throat to a deeper rattling emanating from deep within the chest.
How Michael Gambon maintained his concentration and integrity I will never know. That we as a nation have come to pride ourselves on our celebration of and pride in the works of Beckett must seriously be questioned.
Krapp challenges us to sit with his discomfort, but clearly we cannot sit with our own. – Yours, etc,