“Perhaps my best years are gone.”
A COVID-conscious Pandemic-appropriate Theater Review by Julinda D. Lewis
At: The Firehouse Theatre, 1609 West Broad Street, RVA 23220
Performances: February 4-20, 2021, live and streamed.
Ticket Prices: In-Person Tickets: $30 in person; $25 live-streamed
Info: (804) 355-2001 or firehousetheatre.org. See the theater’s website for their COVID-19 precautions, drink orders, and more.
Two days, two plays. I would describe both as the type of play meant to make you think, more than just entertain you. (What a treat to even be able to see two live productions in a single week during a pandemic: THIS BITTER EARTH at Richmond Triangle Players and KRAPP’S LAST TAPE a little more than a mile away at The Firehouse.) And both were well done. But now, to get to the play at hand.
Alan Sader is Krapp. (I just had to say that!) But seriously, veteran actor Alan Sader steps into the role of Krapp, a 69-year-old man contemplating his life, as if he had been born for this role. I know Alan Sader, and watching this one-person one-act play, I didn’t see an actor I knew in a role; I saw Krapp.
Written by Samuel Beckett, known for his absurdist style, and directed by James Ricks, Artistic Director for Quill Theatre, KRAPP’S LAST TAPE is a perfect play for a pandemic. Solitary. Isolated. Defeated. The play takes place on Krapp’s 69th birthday. I don’t think he has a first name. To celebrate, for lack of a more appropriate word, Krapp rummages through the archives of tapes he’s made over the years, chronicling his life.
The setting is important – it takes on the aspect of another character. There is a wall of file cabinets, stacked one atop another and interspersed with odds and ends and brick-a-brack. A reel-to-reel tape machine and a portable staircase are supporting actors.
There is an introductory struggle with the ancient tape player – a heavy monstrosity of a machine that nearly gets the best of the old man before he places it precariously on an old rickety desk that seems barely able to support its weight. But that’s not the end of it. Oh, no. The tape machine’s electrical cord falls short of reaching the wall outlet, necessitating not one but two duets with the staircase. Old age and misery are not without their moments of humor.
To access the 30-year-old reel-to-reel tape he needs, Krapp consults a ledger for the carefully cataloged location of the specific tape he needs. He then has to interact in a comedic duet with a moveable staircase to get to the right file cabinet where the electrical cords are stored. Sader makes climbing the steps a full-on drama, complete with grimaces and groans. In fact, it is quite a few minutes into the play before Sader actually speaks a legible word. The opening is entirely physical – sort of a combination of comedic actor Charlie Chaplin and mime Marcel Marceau.
Speaking of old age, I had to remind myself that this play premiered in 1958 when age 69 might have been considered ancient. Today, 69 is rarely seen as the end of life – except perhaps to people younger than 25. But I digress.
Before finally settling in to reminisce about his younger self, Krapp has one more trick to execute: an orgasmic experience with a banana – which he temporarily stores in his pocket – and an obligatory slipping on the banana peel. Oh, and let’s not forget the delight he takes in saying the word “spool,” drawing it out and repeating it several times.
Once Krapp has settled in, we hear his younger voice on tape (kudos to director James Ricks for his superb sound design), and Sader spends long periods in palpable silence. He hears the optimism of his younger self, aged 39, and doesn’t seem to react much but saves his regret for lost love. The people who passed through his life are ephemeral, but these recorded memories are his reality now.
Like most Beckett plays I’ve seen, this work is not for everyone – certainly not for those who crave action and movement and verbal sparring – but it seems to be the perfect vehicle for this trio: Beckett, Sader, and Ricks. I don’t know how Beckett would have felt about this production, but Sader and Ricks must certainly feel immense satisfaction in their flawless execution of KRAPP’S LAST TAPE.
The live performance, limited to no more than 10 in the audience, was preceded by a live performance by Ryan Phillips on solo acoustic bass – a perfect introduction to KRAPP’S LAST TAPE. The live program runs through February 20 (if there are any tickets left).
Photos by James Ricks:
RVArt Review 
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