Brian Brijbag

This production of Waiting for Godot arrived at a moment of personal resonance for me. It is one of my favorite plays. I often write in the absurdist tradition (my piece Funeral of god springs from that same space of uncertainty and strange humor) so I came with both affection and expectation. What I found was a production alive with wit, depth, tension and subtle human truth. It honored the absurdity of Samuel Beckett while bringing in new textures and urgency that made me lean forward in my seat.

The casting is bold and compelling. Here are some stand-outs and how they lifted the experience:

• Keanu Reeves as Estragon: For me this carried an extra layer of enjoyment because my son Micah and I share our “John Wick” connection and a long-standing admiration for Reeves. Seeing him take the stage in such stripped-down territory was thrilling. He shed the blockbuster persona and let Estragon’s fatigue, longing, humor and vulnerability show in full relief. His physical presence, comedic timing and moments of silence felt deeply felt.
• Alex Winter as Vladimir: Winter was surprisingly amazing and held his own on a Broadway stage in a way that felt both daring and entirely fitting. His rhythm, his listening partner to Reeves’ energy, his transitions between impatience, affection and despair – these made the Didi-Gogo pair live fully in that magical limbo of expectation and inertia.
• Brandon J. Dirden as Pozzo: Dirden brought precise clarity and power to Pozzo. He embraced the challenge of Beckett’s compressed yet rich language and the moral ambiguity of the character in a way that felt rooted and alive. His collaboration with the rest of the cast felt seamless.
• Michael Patrick Thornton as Lucky: Thornton’s performance was quietly profound. Beyond the role, the touching personal life story he shared after the performance added an emotional dimension I will not soon forget. After suffering two spinal strokes in his twenties and becoming a wheelchair user, he rose through theatre with courage, co-founding a theatre company and continuing to act and direct. His portrayal of Lucky felt like more than mastery of the long monologue – it felt like testimony to resilience, creativity and dedication.

The production design further supported the work’s urgency. The stage felt at once spare and charged. The tree is present only in dialogue. The lighting shifts quietly yet meaningfully. The sound design opened spaces in the air that felt like the play’s emptiness made audible. The moments of stillness, of waiting, were punched by the moments of absurd physicality and language break-downs. In all of this, I felt the reflection of my own interest in the absurd: the world may promise meaning, may provide language and action, and yet we still wait. We still hope. We still question.

Humor was present – it came in the slips of trousers, the repeated questions, the circular banter. But behind the humor I felt ache and expectation. When Vladimir and Estragon talk of leaving and stay; when Pozzo commands and Lucky obeys; when the boys arrive and vanish – they are all pieces of a delicate structure built around waiting, the not-knowing, the longing. This production made that structure vivid and embodied.

In walking out I felt stirred. Part of that was the reminder that absurdism is not a niche or a joke. It is a mirror of our lives when the script seems to vanish but the characters keep moving. As someone who writes in that space I felt seen. As someone who delights in theatre I felt rewarded. This revival is neither frivolous nor heavy-handed. It finds the balance and offers something raw and real.

If you are drawn to work that questions the everyday, that uses laughter to probe loneliness, that invites you into limbo with company, then this version of Waiting for Godot is a must-see. With Reeves and Winter anchoring the waiting pair, Dirden and Thornton bringing depth to the second relationship, this production is theatrical, intelligent and emotionally resonant. For me, it felt like the kind of experience I hope to create in my own writing: surprising, honest, memorable.