Reviewed by Jodi Yeats

Winnie (Robyn Malcolm) is buried up to her waist in a huge pile of fake mud on the stage, rather like a large ant-hill.

Behind her is an unchanging sunrise on a curved canvas, creating the effect of museum diorama.

Reviewed by Jodi Yeats

Winnie (Robyn Malcolm) is buried up to her waist in a huge pile of fake mud on the stage, rather like a large ant-hill.

Behind her is an unchanging sunrise on a curved canvas, creating the effect of museum diorama.

The only other character in Samuel Beckett’s minimalist drama is Winnie’s husband, Willie (Cameron Rhodes), who is virtually silent, while Winnie prattles on.

Willie lives in a tunnel in the mud pile and it isn’t until the second half that the audience even sees his face. Rhodes plays the role with the necessary restraint, yet still creating drama, which must be a challenge.

That it is a fascinating play is a tribute to the two actors and director Michael Hurst. Directing a play where the actors barely move must be difficult, but it was always, unfalteringly intriguing.

Malcolm’s performance was, as it needed to be, mesmerising. Winnie is literally trapped and yet she cheerfully makes the most of it. Her happiness is admirable and an uncomfortable, unnatural response to imprisonment.

Like some sort of precursor to New Age optimism, Winnie creates her own happiness, through looking on the bright side, along with prayer, carefully controlled daily routines, taking care of her looks, and judicious use of the apparently most powerful agent of all – singing.

Equally powerful is the constant presence of a gun, the taunting option of ending it all, which Winnie seems almost unaware of.

After intermission, Winnie is buried to her neck and here Malcolm is at her finest, as Winnie’s resolution, her memory and her ability to continue start to falter. Now, she can’t even use the gun, and it’s hard to imagine she doesn’t regret it.

Irish playwright, Beckett, uses lovely, poetic language, often with fragments of sentences and phrases, strongly reminiscent of James Joyce, who Beckett had worked for early in his career.

Beckett never wanted people to analyse his plays, but even without resorting to metaphor, a story where a couple is trapped in a tortuous situation creates an intense piece of theatre. Silo’s production is an impressive rendition of the play's “happy days”.

Happy Days
Directed by Michael Hurst
with Robyn Malcolm and Cameron Rhodes
A Silo Theatre production

Playing at the Herald Theatre
Until 18 September
Tickets from The Edge