Review: KRAPP’S LAST TAPE, Cockpit Theatre
Photo credit: Chris Lincé for Stagefright Films
You wait ages for a new definitive version of this Samuel Beckett classic to come along, then two arrive within the same year. When Gary Oldman performed Krapp’s Last Tape at the Royal Court earlier this year, few could have expected a more nuanced and moving version of this play to be performed so soon after. Enter 85-year-old Peter Marinker.
If you have ever considered what your life may be like should you be fortunate enough to reach such a grand age, learning a one-man Beckett play was probably not on your to-do list. Following a recent Alzheimer's diagnosis, performing again was seemingly no longer an option for Marinker either. However, The Cockpit Theatre’s Artistic Director, Dave Wybrow, instead saw this as an opportunity for the two to once more unite on a Beckett play and to explore how life really can imitate art. He was keen to work with Marinker to uncover deeper connections between an actor and the role of Krapp when the shared experience of self-reflection and fading memories is a very real prospect.
Wybrow and his team set about conceiving how they could create an environment for Marinker to perform this solo feat. In a touch of theatrical magic, the audio tapes Marinker originally recorded for the same stage role back in 1983 have been used again here for the reel-to-reel recordings Krapp painstakingly respools to listen back to his past birthday musings. Like an echo from the past transcending time, this is a theatrical masterstroke. Marinker’s career has been shaped by his work in audio, and his recorded voice is crisp and lilting, while his contemporary voice remains equally precise in its diction.
Additionally, stage manager Marta Fossati sits in Marinker’s eyeline in the audience to give stage directions to him through an earpiece, which we, the audience, can also hear. These simple instructions to stand up, open a drawer, or pause can feel, in this environment, like a series of instructions for a cognitive test, and the softness of Fossati’s voice adds another layer to the theme of the recorded word and delivered speech. Krapp’s current monologues are also available for Peter to recite from two screens above the audience. When his younger self hears the reminiscences of a former lover, no off-stage instruction is needed for Marinker to fight back the tears; this is pure muscle memory.
Marinker is utterly spellbinding as Krapp. As this 85-year-old shuffles around the stage in an old dressing gown, spooling and re-spooling tapes, breath short from each small movement, his haunted gaze fixed on the distance, this feels like far more than mere acting. Marinker doesn’t just inhabit Krapp; he becomes him. This is a life lived, expressed in real time. In fact, you must repeatedly remind yourself that Marinker is 85 and living with Alzheimer's, so naturalistic is his performance, which is exactly what the part demands. When he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a half-eaten banana or painstakingly winds the tape spools, you cannot help but think of your own elderly loved ones and wonder whether we could all show the same patience with them as we do when mesmerised by Marinker.
In a play focused so intimately on memory and longing, the way Marinker’s real life imitates the art he performs, and the way he goes beyond just acting to fully embody the part of Krapp, combine to create truly unique and unforgettable theatre. This production was also filmed by Chris Lincé for Stagefright Films so that this performance can be shared and remembered for years to come. Here, theatre becomes art and memory becomes a recorded life. As the light above Krapp slow fades, we are reminded that live theatre is about creating moments that linger long after the curtain falls, and this is one that will stay with you forever.
***** Five stars
Reviewed by: Phil Meikle
