GILES WOODFORDE praises an authoritative production of Waiting for Godot at the Oxford Playhouse

'"He was great to have a pint of Guinness with." Thus theatre director Sir Peter Hall described his relationship with playwright Samuel Beckett in a recent Radio 4 interview. It was obvious from the interview that the friendship was a long and fruitful one, dating back to 1955, when Hall was asked to direct the very first production of Beckett's Waiting for Godot in English. This summer Hall has directed Godot again, as part of his regular season at the Theatre Royal, Bath, and it is this production that tours to the Oxford Playhouse this week.

It is obvious right from the start that a master is at work. As the curtain goes up, there is a long silence, a very long, but perfectly timed silence. Estragon is trying to take off a very battered boot. "Boots must be taken off every day," says his companion Vladimir eventually. He continues: "Never neglect the little things in life."

Thus the relationship between the two men begins. They have a common cause - they are waiting for the mysterious Godot to arrive. As they hang about in a landscape that is completely featureless except for one dying tree, there is nothing else to look forward to. They are lonely, and they need each other. Yet at times they can't stand the sight (or smell) of each other.

It was Hall who felt, in his first production, that Vladimir and Estragon should be tramps, and they have remained tramps ever since. Beckett, it seems, had been thinking more of clowns. But Hall didn't discard clowns entirely: the use of hats is strongly influenced by Laurel and Hardy, for instance, as are one or two of Vladimir and Estragon's beautifully observed mannerisms. And Hall certainly hasn't played down the brilliant shafts of humour than run through the play.

Hall has assembled a perfect cast for this revival. As Estragon, Alan Dobie is short and sharp, often delivering his lines staccato, but always absolutely clearly. James Laurenson's Vladimir, meanwhile, is perhaps a more fastidious character: "That might give me an erection," he remarks sagely, as the couple contemplate suicide by hanging themselves from the tree.

There are superb supporting performances from Terence Rigby as Pozzo, a sort of gross Mr Toad, who is towed along (literally) by his slave Lucky. Lucky seems to speak only gibberish, until he suddenly produces a rush of philosophical thoughts in a single, massive speech, full of different sounds and accents. It's like moving the tuning dial on a radio at speed, and Richard Dormer's performance in this role is alone worth the price of a ticket.

By now, I hope, the message is clear: no one who is even remotely interested in theatre or acting should miss this superb and authoritative production.

Waiting for Godot continues at the Oxford Playhouse tonight and tomorrow. Tickets: 01865 305305.