Review of ‘Krapp’s Last Tape’ (2026, Royal Court): “Gary Oldman shines in somber existential play”

I’ve always found it difficult to connect with Samuel Beckett. I don’t deny his genius, but his niche appeal is undeniable, even to his most passionate lovers. That doesn’t make him better or worse. But it’s not easy to analyse a piece that you’re somehow predisposed not to enjoy. There are two reasons why its current London revival sold out before it even opened. On the one hand, there are Beckett’s devotees. On the other hand, the fans who eagerly queue after the performance, hoping to get a closer glimpse, a selfie, and an autograph on their Dark Night or Harry Potter posters. I do wonder how the latter felt about what they saw. And how ready they were for it.

Conceptually, Krapp’s Last Tape has a broader resonance. An old man reflects on his life and the many opportunities he lost (or let slip) along the way. Faithful to the author’s signature style, the narrative moves at a remarkably slow pace, without necessarily building up. But the tools are there. And it’s up to the viewer to either grasp them or ignore them to delve into its themes.

Gary Oldman’s approach, which also encompasses direction and design, is infused with poignancy and authenticity. Poised and taciturn, a thin-voiced Krapp shows little sentiment as he listens to the tapes from his younger years. Oldman’s powerful rendition perfectly captures the turmoil of repressed emotions boiling inside. He doesn’t say much. And yet, he says it all. Oldman dominates the stage with no apparent effort. And his presence is haunting.

Despite Oldman’s accomplishments, the engagement is nonetheless intermittent. Those acquainted with the piece and value its worth will not agree with that statement. Everyone else probably will. Beckett isn’t the most digestible writer, and this work is no exception. Although there is pathos, I can’t see that many being touched by its existentialism, which doesn’t stir as much as desired.

Everything that Krapp stands for- scatological name included -reverberates with the viewer. But on an individual level, he’s not that interesting a character. Consequently, we can bond with the ideas but not with the man in question. Some may argue that’s precisely the point. And they will laud the script’s ability to dispose of any additional garments. Yet, by stripping it down so much, some pivotal parts may have been lost in the process.

This year’s revival is preceded by Leo Simpe-Asante’s Godot’s To-Do List, a 20-minute curtain-riser comedy involving plausibly Beckett’s most famous- and ironically, least known of -personage, who finds himself trapped in a limbic space he can’t escape until completing all the tasks required by a mysterious disembodied voice. An absurdist piece that honours its literary hero with far less sparkle, its performance serves as a solid showcase for Shakeel Haakim’s superb acting talent, whose innate naturalness and layered execution add all the flavour the text doesn’t supply.

Beckett’s thought-provoking qualities live on in this latest incarnation of one of his most intimate plays. From a personal perspective, I can’t urge you to experience it. In fact, I feel compelled to warn you about the aversion it may cause. But I can see why some may be drawn into it. And although I still need to reconcile with its creator’s oeuvre, I could encourage those who already have to witness its second half. For the record, this is the kind of work you may need to rewind a few times until you fully appreciate it.

Krapp‘s Last Tape / Godot’s To-Do List play at London’s Royal Court Theatre until 30 May. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara