Word: pozzo
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...pronounced our actress at intermission." But Didi is just ridiculous. His face is so flat and pasty, and I have not once seen him change expression. I suppose it's because they had him have V.D. but it's still too much. Gogo is sort of bug-eyed, and Pozzo is all right but oh, Lucky is marvelous you know, the way she moves, and that silver tear they've given...
...relieved. What Caravan has done can't harm a play that is broad and strong enough to make sexuality seem merely incidental. The graft doesn't take; the plant is healthier than ever. Jarring additions, such as Didi's case of the clap, or the segment where Pozzo and Lucky grope vainly boringly, Hairiedly for each other on the floor of the stage, are absorbed in the larger effort to deal with "the way it is on this bitch of as earth...
...play she wears the wistful, gentle expression of an unhappy clowns, accented by somebody's skilful touch, a tinfoil tear passed on her cheek. Her graceful movements and the delicacy of her bright eye catch interest even when the center of dramatic attention in elsewhere. Her partner Pozzo is played by big, loud, ruddy Peter Kovner, who generates most of whatever energy comes on stage. Barbara Fleischmann's Gogo ranges from the ethereal distance of a Picasso saltimbanque to the pained goggling of a suicidal gypsy...
...still can't understand why they have tried it. Marriage is as good a way to go through life as the companionship of a couple of vagabonds, Beckett might say, but no more revealing.. Nor is the change more than a passing nod to feminism: Lucky may wear Pozzo's leash around her thigh, but all four characters are too oppressed by life in general for that irritation to make much difference...
...good as one can legitimately imagine. Man's parlous state on this spinning planet is beautifully rendered by Henderson Forsythe's Vladimir and Paul B. Price's Estragon. As the slave Lucky, Anthony Holland mimes with the aching dignity of a Marceau, though his master, Pozzo (Edward Winter) is a shade too Blimpish. This is Alan Schneider's finest piece of directing since Virginia Woolf-sentient, taut, sharp as the image in a jeweler's glass...