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Like all of Samuel Beckett's plays, Endgame, now being produced by the Ten Thousand Things company, is an odd piece. The author tended to write claustrophobic plays in which a few people bother each other over and over again; the most famous of these is, of course, Waiting for Godot, in which two bored men spend the entire play waiting for the titular character, who (spoiler alert!) never arrives.
Eurydice closes tonight, so this will be my final entry as a guest blogger for The Rake. Thanks to them for inviting me to do this, and thanks to all of you who took the time to read of these adventures.
We're into our final two weeks of performances, so rather than give an account of each, I'll offer thumbnail impressions of some of our performances to date:
First dress rehearsal: