Waiting for a Hero: New Tragicomedy Has a Heap of Heart

Ezra, Valerie, and a skeleton: their future fate? (Photo courtesy of Waiting for a Hero)

It’s the classic remake: take a classic show, set it in a shiny new location, include a couple of topical edits, and bam—a perfect attention getter that guarantees butts on seats. This tactic works even better when the classic in question is a staple of the second year English syllabus—and since the crossover between St Andrews English students and dedicated theatre nerds is high, chances for approval from the powers that be (MerCom) is even higher. This is the paradigm that’s given us Waiting for a Hero, a new take on Waiting for Godot set at the San Diego Comic Con (don’t bother yourself that all the characters use suspiciously British slang). Fatima Krida writes and directs a tragicomedy that, despite struggling at parts with execution, is brimming with heart.

The crux of the play, just like its antecedent, is the wait: two characters remain glued to the stage the entire run. Instead of Vladimir and Estrogon, Hero has Valerie (Daniella Hardy) and Ezra (Caroline Kerr). The former is a bubbly, new-age college student who has channeled her sudden social isolation into online fandom; the latter is a jaded, tirelessly devoted superfan of a famous actress. The pair, dressed in identical cosplays of their idol’s superhero costume, spend the play’s run waiting eagerly for a chance to meet the woman herself at a promised signing. Along the way, they’re beset by various other characters: journalist Peter (Jack Dams) and agent’s assistant Lucy (Ella Byrne-Cabot) double up as Pozzo and Lucky, and Ryan Cunnigham’s Janitor is Hero’s version of the Boy. There are also new characters: Jaques Leleux’s Alex is a prior superfan who’s retreated from online fandom, Libby Mullen’s Presley is a ridiculously acerbic agent (I’d fire mine if she spoke to fans and journalists like that), and Skeet (Kurt Dorneich/Grink) is a delightfully absurd vendor of off-brand merchandise (I’m still upset I didn’t have the chance to buy a sticker).

Peter and Lucy epitomise how I feel when faced with uncertainty ((Photo courtesy of Waiting for a Hero))

The play sets its actors on a stage replete with visual gags and easter eggs. A skeleton lurks in the background, while advertisements for Labubus and Dubai Chocolate cycle through background screens—a charming bit of set design from Set Designer Chloe Annan. On either side of StAge’s seating, a livestream from backstage was projected, letting the audience stalk the lives of their favourite actors. A creative comic book-style marketing campaign—one of the best I’ve ever seen for a show in St Andrews—means that those active on Instagram already have a sense of the cast: though perhaps not enough to form a parasocial relationship with them and camp out for hours outside a promised signing.

A rouge superfan is a terrifying sight (Photo courtesy of Waiting for a Hero)

The show’s structure is simple: it oscillates between moments of slapstick and long monologues or agons. Some of these are very effective—the Janitor’s monologue and the opening gags between Valerie and Ezra are particularly strong. Some are more superficial: the discussion between Ezra and Peter has moments where it verges on the painfully shallow. Attempts to blur the line between the serious and the comic often just feel strange—Alex’s entire entrance as a disguised actress is baffling, though his later monologue has sufficient pathos to excuse it. There were moments where the physical comedy felt under-rehearsed, and the show suffered from dead air and some flubbing of lines. The overwhelming sense is that the show needed a few more run-throughs to perfect it, but the passion behind the production—especially when discussing the inner lives of the fans—is evident.

That’s not to say there isn’t any sense of purpose to the play. The show has its thesis and returns to its key points again and again—criticising and interrogating the nature of online fandom and whether it helps or harms individuals. Hero seems to overwhelmingly portray this fandom in the negative, likening it to a stalking case the court next to the convention centre is hearing—though in its final moments, where the protagonists decide to continue waiting for their hero (you’ve had seventy-three years to read Godot, so this isn’t a spoiler), the bond between the pair is genuinely sweet. This final image sums up the production as a whole: it has its difficulties, but the final image you are left with is a sweet one.