Last weekend was in London, and I managed to get a ticket for Godot at the Haymarket, Theatre Royal. Brilliant cast, of course. Someone said the next day when I was telling them, "Oh, isn't that the 'happy' Godot?" Well, yes. Inasmuchas it could be. It troubles me, though, the grip that Becket keeps on the play from beyond the grave. That in itself is a marvellous piece of theatre.
The Gallery was infested with posh Sixth Formers. Most were enjoying the play but one of them spent the second act typing on her Blackberry when she wasn't whispering to her neighbour. And an American gentlemen next to me left after the first Act, bored or believing it was over, I don't know which.