It has been said, mostly by lunatics, that of all of Samuel Beckett's plays the 1961 "Happy Days" is his most cheerful, simply because the more talkative of its two characters — Winnie, married to Willie — clings to her rituals and possessions with the optimism of the well and truly damned, extolling the virtues of "another heavenly day."

Never mind she's buried in a mound of earth up to her waist in Act 1, and up to her Adam's apple in Act 2. No need to dwell on the moment, late in the game, when Willie reaches up to the mound where two objects dominate the miniature landscape: Winnie, and Winnie's pistol.

"Is it me you're after, Willie, or is it something else?" she wonders. "Is it a kiss you're after, Willie, or is it something else?"

Cheerful? Well … this much is certain: No one ever crystallized an existential dilemma, this thing called life as funneled through that thing called marriage, with a more deceptively sprightly air.

There's a very good revival of "Happy Days" on right now, thanks to the Hypocrites and director Sean Graney. Very good revivals of "Happy Days" don't come along too often. Certain aspects of this one work well within conventional American notions of the play. At its best, though, the production digs more deeply into Beckett's mound, and more movingly.

In the Hypocrites staging at Wrigleyville's Stage Left Theatre, audience members take their seats within what appears to be a tiny old-time music hall, lit by wall lamps on either side of a tacky-looking proscenium arch. Out-of-tune piano music fills the air, along with the occasional sound of crockery being smashed.

Then the roll-drop curtain rises, and we see the famous Beckett mound, done up in green Astroturf in Graney's scenic design. (Graney also did the costumes and props.) Donna McGough plays Winnie. Near-silent and mostly hidden, Will Schutz plays Willie, who whiles away his hours reading the classified ads — "Wanted. Bright boy" — printed in a newspaper that, in Graney's production, is all blank pages.

Brushing her teeth, examining the slogan printed on her toothpaste tube, casting her memory back on the shores of her early "courting" days, McGough's Winnie is distinguished by the speed and deftness of her mood swings. Without warning, but with the help of Heather Graff and Rich Peterson's active lighting design, McGough can fall into a puddle of stasis, a swamp of dread — subtly. Just as quickly she's all high spirits again. One senses Graney took particular care in the shading of these transitions.

As Winnie and Willie's days pile up, each new one signified (as scripted) by a loud bell, the evening's rhythm acquires a kind of hurtling quality, lit by varying degrees of harsh, hot sunlight. In Act 2, Winnie is ashen-faced, as is Willie. The earth has been scorched by — what? Radioactivity? Neglect? Winnie can't go on yet goes on. There are, to borrow another Beckett title, stirrings still.

Not unlike certain Winnies past, among them Mabou Mines' Ruth Maleczech, McGough doesn't offer much in the way of vocal beauty or delicacy. You don't get that fallen-bourgeois quality to Winnie. She tends to blast certain rejoinders too hard, so that the big ones don't register the way they should — as true cries of panic, or pain, or fear. Yet on her own terms, McGough is quite excellent. And in his snappy boater in Act 1, and ironic top hat and tails in Act 2, Schutz's Willie looks like a truly blasted soul, anguished but surviving.

Graney's previous Hypocrites production, "Machinal," had many things in its favor, including Mechelle Moe's touchingly lost portrayal of the Jazz Age murderer. As in that production, "Happy Days" incorporates video projection — here, a small screen, depicting a patch of blue and then cloudy sky. But Graney's smart enough to go easy on the theatrics with this material. He zaps the text just enough to enliven its rhythms, yet without taking our eyes, and our minds, off the universe before us.

Call it godless hell; call it Beckett's version of "Same Time, Next Year." More to the point, call it a very good "Happy Days."

Tip of the Week
Happy Days

Kate Zambreno, New City

When Samuel Beckett's demented and lovely play gets subjected to the trademark stylistics of director Sean Graney, it becomes Beckett on crack that's then sped up a notch. A middle-aged woman finds herself increasingly buried in sand and distanced from her only companion, who barely appears on stage. She busies herself with memories and survives on delighting in mundane routine and the tiniest of things. She can go on, she must on. Donna McGough tackles the Herculean role of the eternal optimist, Winnie, unleashing a dynamic performance. McGough's Winnie ricochets around the stage like a rubber ball, although stuck in the ground the entire time. This stirring and stunning production elucidates what Beckett was striving for in what's still known as his most hopeful work--the ferocity of the human spirit, the trap of existence, and the limited nature of communication.

Buried Alive
by Jennifer Vanasco, Free Press

"Another heavenly day," Winnie says, opening her eyes and unfolding herself from where she lays doubled over her mound of earth.

So begins Samuel Beckett's absurdist 1961 play about a woman who is trapped to her waist-and then to her neck-in the ground, with her bestial husband Willie her only companion.

Beckett never explains why she is there, of course, because the dirt (Astroturf in The Hypocrites' engaging production) is a metaphor for the human condition. Like Winnie, we are all slowly moving toward our graves day by day, with only our routines and small happinesses to keep us from succumbing to despair and ending our lives early (Winnie keeps a revolver, "Brownie," displayed prominently.)

Donna McGough is stunningly facile as Winnie, creating within the long, play-length monologue a character that is rich and real. This is a challenging role-in the entire second act she must keep us riveted using only her facial expressions-but McGough is so true to her character that she makes it work.

Her Winnie is both desperately and genuinely cheerful, but her optimism is tempered by undertones of anger, bitterness and cruelty. Instead of railing against her situation, she rails against the almost-silent Willie (Will Schutz), demanding that he put on his hat, urging him to get out of the blistering sun by backing into the hole that is his home. Lighting designers Richard Peterson and Heather Graff emphasize her change in moods by making the light almost another character-a chilling blue for depression, a harsh orange for Winnie's forced sunniness.

Winnie consoles herself with the small routines of everyday life. She brushes her teeth, fixes her hair, puts on her hat and otherwise busies herself with items taken out of her beloved black bag-until the final bell of the day rings and she can once again sleep. She creates meaning for herself by sorting through her memories, by educating herself about new details and by praying.

Under other hands, all this might sink into tedium, but McGough's moving, elegant performance is assisted by Sean Graney's crisp, grounded (so to speak) direction. Together, they make a play that is more than a mere extended metaphor. Instead, it is about a specific woman both brave and cowardly who simply does what she must to make it through yet another day.