Oh dear sweet baby Jesus … more like this, please!
He can’t go on…
But, he must go on!
Thursdays at 9.
This was a surprising move for Beckett after he’d had such success writing cartoons about a coyote in endless pursuit of an elusive roadrunner.
Rumor has it that Gore Vidal was up for the hard-nosed but fair captain/bar owner, Truman.
OMGo to hell, Yes!
“Who loves ya, Estragon?” usually spoken before Beckett beats on some spiv like a rented mule. Little Bim invariably shoulders the unconscious loser saying “No bowlers,” while Walleye and Huggy argue in the background without really finishing anything.
Oh, I so love this. Late to the party, but one of my favourite things is that Beckett used to drive Andre the Giant to school every day. They talked about cricket.
I miss this show.
The replacement series No Exit left a lot to be desired; it was mostly a re-hash of Love, American Style on a single-set and no laugh track. That at least, was “innovative.”
Hell is bad theatre.
You’re thinking of community theatre. Which is admirable, if often execrable.
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