NEW YORK − Strange things are afoot at the Hudson Theatre.
It’s been 36 years since Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter first brought “Party on, dudes” and “historical babes” into the pop-culture lexicon with their delightfully daffy sci-fi comedy “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” Now, the irresistible duo has reunited on stage for an enormously affecting if uneven new take on “Waiting for Godot,” which opened Sept. 28.
Samuel Beckett’s absurdist tragicomedy follows two old friends, Estragon (Reeves) and Vladimir (Winter), as they shoot the breeze sitting and waiting for an elusive figure named Godot. Donning smelly boots and bowler hats, the disheveled men crack jokes and make idle conversation, which is occasionally interrupted by the blustering passerby Pozzo (Branden J. Dirden) and his brutalized slave Lucky (a brilliant Michael Patrick Thornton).
But at the end of each day, a mysterious boy (Eric Williams) delivers the message that Godot isn’t coming after all and will instead arrive tomorrow. And so, Vladimir and Estragon wearily choose to continue waiting, day in and day out.
The bleak, esoteric play is hardly the laugh riot that many “Bill & Ted” fans might be yearning for, as Beckett grapples with purpose, uncertainty and the futility of life. (Judging by the smattering of newly empty seats at intermission, the wait may prove interminable for some theatergoers.) Instead, it’s like a much chillier version of 1991 sequel “Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey,” in which our high-school guitar heroes venture to literal hell and back.
The actors at times feel straightjacketed by the uneasy hand of director Jamie Lloyd, who astoundingly reimagined Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Sunset Boulevard” last season. Ultra-stylish yet deathly somber, Lloyd chooses to stage his “Godot” revival in what can only be described as a massive, marble funnel designed by Soutra Gilmour. Is it a hollowed-out tree? An all-seeing eye? A dystopian skate park? (Lucky’s “Mad Max”-style muzzle suggests the latter.)
Reeves and Winter are often swallowed up by the bottomless void their characters occupy, with very little room to let loose and play. It’s a ponderous affair that would have benefited from a director with a lighter touch. Nonetheless, Lloyd’s production is handsomely realized, with striking silhouetttes courtesy of Jon Clark and unnerving sound design by Ben and Max Ringham, who add a low whirr of dread to the existential fable.
But the show’s greatest asset is its stars, whose endearing real-life friendship pierces through the play’s inherent despair. It’s an ingenious stroke of casting that ultimately pays off, particularly in the more rollicking second act, as they volley good-natured barbs and gallows humor with the verve of seasoned tennis pros. The impish Reeves brings puppy-dog codependence to the scruffy Estragon, who leans on Vladimir as his body and memory fail him.
The “Matrix” actor suffers beautifully in his Broadway debut, although it’s the revelatory Winter who will haunt you long after the curtain falls. As the more intellectual and empathetic Vladimir, Winter achingly conveys his hopeful optimism and crippling realization that Godot, in fact, may never arrive. His crushing final monologue, in which Vladimir confronts his own nihilism, is as potent as anything you’re bound to see on Broadway this year.
“Waiting for Godot” is the feel-bad play of the fall, with transfixing performances from Winter and Reeves that help you look past the production’s shortcomings. There are few actors whom we’d rather see philosophize about mortality. As Ted once said so eloquently, “All we are is dust in the wind, dude.”
“Waiting for Godot” is now playing at the Hudson Theatre (141 W. 44th Street) through Jan. 4, 2026.