A dapper-looking man in a smart suit and trilby enters, briefcase in hand. At first glance, he seems perfectly ordinary – except for the umbrella. It’s little more than a skeleton: all spokes and no fabric. Undeterred, he gives it a brisk shake to rid it of imaginary rain. This is odd enough, but odder still because we appear to be somewhere warm beneath a bright blue sky, dotted with cotton wool-like fluffy clouds. At centre stage looms a large yellow door. The man presses the doorbell. Nothing happens.
Presently, he is joined by another man, less polished in a rumpled linen jacket and trousers, hat perched somewhat carelessly on his head; no umbrella for him. He asks the first whether he has rung the bell. The reply is tetchy: yes, he has rung it, and no, nobody has answered. Thus begins the exchange between Mulberry (the umbrella-wielding pedant) and Bix (his more casually assembled counterpart).
What follows is an extended bout of linguistic one-upmanship, mostly at Bix’s expense. Mulberry, seemingly the more educated of the two, cannot resist correcting not just what Bix says but how he says it. Their conversation spirals into ever more obtuse byways of language. They debate, for instance, why two sausages in bread constitute a “sausage sandwich” rather than a “sausages sandwich” – and why the same curious rule applies to eggs. Words are batted back and forth like shuttlecocks, each man striving to outdo the other with epithets and semantic sleights of hand.
Waiting becomes another subject for dissection. We have rooms specifically designed for waiting; we wait for a waiter; we wait for the bill. The title of the play provides the clearest clue to these ruminations. For this is indeed a play, although the characters are unsure. They ponder whether they are in one and, if so, to whom they are playing. The piece slips into meta-theatrical musings, edging towards the existential. Eventually, it takes a distinct left turn, and we learn who these men really are and why they are stationed before that stubborn yellow door.
While They Were Waiting is the first play by actor – and, some would say, national treasure – Gary Wilmot. He wrote it backstage at the National Theatre while, fittingly, waiting to be called. Wilmot plays Bix; Steve Furst, who was also waiting with him at the National, plays Mulberry. The two share an easy, amiable chemistry that feels entirely genuine.
The difficulty is that the piece never quite decides what it wants to be. It hovers somewhere between comedy and something more reflective, without fully satisfying either impulse. There are not quite enough truly funny lines – the first-night audience, heavy with family and friends, responded more warmly than raucously – and the poignancy, when it comes, arrives too late to pack the emotional punch it might have carried. Sydney Stevenson directs with a lightness of touch, but at ninety minutes, it feels a shade overextended, and the “encore” tacked onto the end doesn’t entirely land.
The dialogue occasionally adopts a Shakespearean tone, and comparisons with Beckett’s Waiting for Godot are inevitable. There are even a few Pinteresque pauses sprinkled in for good measure. Yet homage alone cannot sustain momentum.
What ultimately saves While They Were Waiting are the performances. Furst and Wilmot are consummate pros who seem genuinely delighted by each other’s company, and that warmth is infectious. The play may be a treatise on waiting for the inevitable, but it takes its time getting there, and in the end, audiences will have to decide whether it was worth the wait.
Review by Alan Fitter
Nobody waits like Mulberry. Waiting is his hobby. He waits whenever and wherever he can. Whilst waiting for a big yellow door of opportunity to open, his reverie is smashed by the arrival of a stranger called Bix: an inquisitive, restless sort with skin too thick to realise his intrusion.
Much to Mulberry’s irritation, a profound and meaningful friendship develops.
Written by Gary Wilmot
Starring Gary Wilmot and Steve Furst
Directed by Sydney Stevenson
Produced by Chromolume in association with Nikki Newman
WHILE THEY WERE WAITING
Upstairs at the Gatehouse
26 February to 22 March 2026
