'Krapp's Last Tape' / 'Godot's To-Do List' review — Gary Oldman's understated performance is filled with yearning and regret

Read our review of Godot's To-Do List and Krapp's Last Tape, the latter starring Gary Oldman, now in performances at the Royal Court through 30 May.

Summary

• Gary Oldman brings his production of Krapp's Last Tape to the Royal Court following a run at York Theatre Royal in 2025
• He directs; designs and stars in Beckett's play
• The curtain-raiser is Godot's To-Do List by newcomer and rising star Leo Simpe-Asante

Gary Oldman’s production of Krapp’s Last Tape is having a very satisfying full circle moment. The veteran actor opened the show at York Theatre Royal in 2025, marking his first return to the stage in 37 years at the venue which gave him his acting break, and it has now transferred to the Royal Court — where Samuel Beckett’s play premiered as a curtain-raiser in 1958 and where Oldman last performed before his stage hiatus.

It is a fitting journey for a play that ruminates on the passage of time, and in a feat of programming, the show returns to the Royal Court with its own curtain-raiser: an absurdist spoof on Beckett’s Waiting for Godot called Godot’s To-Do List, written by newcomer Leo Simpe-Asante.

To place these two works in a double bill and thus pair an acclaimed actor, who has nearly 50 years of industry experience, with a promising 19-year-old writer creates a symmetry that Beckett himself would likely enjoy. As artistic director David Byrne explains in the programme notes, we are encouraged to “look both backwards and forwards” at the voices defining and redefining theatre.

Simpe-Asante’s 20-minute, quirky opener gives Beckett’s Godot a fun lift, addressing the question: where exactly is Godot when Vladimir and Estragon are waiting for him under that tree? The answer: we’re still not sure exactly, but we discover he is waylaid by a mysterious, disembodied voice (hypnotic, Alexa-style tones courtesy of Flora Ashton) who demands that he complete a never-ending list of tasks.

There are playful touches referencing the original Godot — from entertaining performer Shakeel Haakim’s bowler hat to the small, barren tree placed in a plant pot at his feet — but Simpe-Asante has created something fresh and modern, which carves out a space for itself on Oldman’s set.

Indeed there is no doubt this night is all about Oldman, who directs, designs, and stars in Krapp’s Last Tape. When the main event arrives, he cuts a shambolic figure, slowly lugging himself up the stairs and into the attic of his home, ready to sit down and listen to tape recordings made by his younger self. It’s his 69th birthday (appropriately, Oldman is just one year shy of this in real life) and he is about to make his next tape, but is pulled into reminiscences and regrets.

The show opens with the on-the-nose song "We Three (My Echo, My Shadow, and Me)", which follows a melancholy narrator waiting for a lost love. Loneliness seeps into the cracks and crevices of Krapp’s cluttered attic. Dusty piles of books and boxes sprawl across the Royal Court’s stage, filling every bit of space and representing the detritus of a life spent in the shadows.

Oldman comfortably leans into the silence of Beckett’s play. The usual message of “phones off” by front-of-house staff is impressed upon audience members more urgently than usual, as every breath, whisper, and scuffle is audible in this intimate space. Seated at his desk, Oldman slowly peels and begins masticating one banana, before comically producing a second and even flirting with eating a third (those with misophonia, be warned). The sounds of old age ring out in the gloom as he heaves himself off his chair in search of another tape or, in a burst of impatience, swipes a collection of boxes from his table. He is grumbling, gruff, and dishevelled — a man who has been left behind and forgotten by time.

Oldman skilfully foregrounds Krapp’s yearning and regret. The modulations in his speech are remarkable, as we hear the strong, lucid, authoritative voice of his 39-year-old self ring out from the tape recorder, while his raspy present voice cracks and breaks. It is an understated performance that requires patience from its audience — much of the time Oldman is chuckling or grunting at something his former self has said; in other moments, he sits in silence.

What builds is a sense of the cruel march of time. The way we can slip into irrelevance without even realising it, and missed opportunities can sting even years after the event. As he replays three times one reminiscence of a lost love, Oldman protectively clutches the tape recorder (interestingly, the same one also used by Michael Gambon and John Hurt in the role) — his only remaining connection to that period of life.

The final, desolate image of Oldman looking out to the audience as Malcolm Rippeth’s lights come down, starkly illuminating him in the gloom, is deeply unsettling. On press night, you could hear a pin drop.

Check back for Godot's To-Do List and Krapp's Last Tape tickets on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: Godot's To-Do List and Krapp's Last Tape. (Photos by Camilla Greenwell and Jack English)