I was going through old reviews, and I found this, "Krapp, 39". It was a very well-reviewed show that I hated. I didn't remember quite how much. I have edited out mistakes from the review, but otherwise, it is as I wrote it.
Here it is, in all its glory.
Krapp, 39
1 Star
Krapp, 39, just extended at the So Ho Playhouse, is an interesting idea that never extends to a theatrical experience you want to watch. The play references Samuel Becket’s play “Krapp’s Last Tape,” an assumed semi-autobiographical show in which the character of Krapp at 69, plays tapes of himself through the years, particularly at age 39. The idea behind this play, then, is this actor/ writer looks so forward to performing the show Krapps Last Tape at age 69 that he wants to record the 39-year-old monologues now, in his own voice. As I said, an interesting idea.
However, as written and performed by Michael Laurence, the show is a self-referential, naval gazing exercise that pretty much defines narcissism. I suppose that this show could be very “touching and meaningful” for those among us who are self-defined “artists” who suffer for their craft versus “everyone else” who are heathens doomed to never understand the world as they do. The lead character, who is the only character for a reason, is oblivious to anyone else except as an audience.
If you have ever been forced to spend 15 minutes at a party listening to one of these people explain how much better, deeper, and more alive they are than you could ever imagine, you have experienced a small moment of this show. Now expand this awkward party moment to 90 minutes, and you have a pretty good handle on “Krapp, 39.”
The writer of this show acknowledges that he is willful, selfish, and short-sighted. However, the admission of imperfection is used only to show the audience that the author is more honest about himself than the audience could ever hope to be. The author revels in his imperfections. He loves them; he worships these character flaws, which ultimately means they aren’t flaws at all.
It might not be a biographical work, but the fact that Mr. Laurence wrote and performed it invites the expectation that it is. If the play is not biographical, it would still be annoying, but the blame could be shared.
Let me acknowledge that I seem to be in the minority here. Reviews of the show have often been excellent, and the show won the “Outstanding Solo Show” at the 2008 New York International Fringe Festival. Michael Laurence performed the piece beautifully, and I couldn’t stand him. Perhaps if the viewer has already seen “Krapp’s Last Tape” by Samuel Beckett, the play is more meaningful, and there are references to the show throughout Krapp, 39. But to the casual viewer, this piece is a 90-minute self-indulgent trip through a life celebrated for being shallow. I did not enjoy it.
I will say that the staging and use of a hand-held video camera with a large monitor was excellent. But towards the end, even the images it projected were trite and used only to provide visual confirmation of the writer/performer/character’s uniqueness.
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