by Benjamín Gavarre
To the memory of Raúl, Sergio, Héctor, and Luis Pablo.
VISUAL AND CONCEPTUAL GUIDE FOR THE OPENING SCENE
General Style of the Scene (Pictorial and Atmospheric):
The initial staging must evoke the atmosphere of a realistic Dutch Baroque painting, in the vein of masters like Vermeer and Rembrandt. This implies dramatic lighting (chiaroscuro) emphasizing contrasts between light and deep shadows, a palette of rich but muted colors, and a general sense of mystery and realism. The intention is to create an environment that is both familiar and deeply disturbing, anachronistic for its era (the 1980s) but timeless in its human dilemma.
The Space: The Anachronistic Waiting Room:
Representing an office waiting room as a space that seems frozen in time, despite elements placing it in the 80s.
Furniture: A dark wooden desk for the receptionist, heavy and functional. The waiting chairs, also wood, should be of a sober and slightly uncomfortable design. A small side table in the center. Everything should have a slightly polished, warm finish under the light, but without opulence.
Lighting: The main "natural" light source (not visible) should be dim, emulating the light from a window on a cloudy day or a hidden lamp diffusing soft light from the right. Key elements (faces, the door, the desk) should emerge from the shadows with precise, directed light, in the style of Rembrandt’s portraits.
Decorative Elements:
Paintings: Two framed pictures in gold or dark wood hanging on the wall. Each must contain a hyper-realistic pencil drawing of the faces of Freddie Mercury and Rock Hudson. These portraits are not oil paintings, but sketches suggesting an intimate, personal homage to figures marked by the epidemic, adding a layer of melancholy and subtle context of the era without being explicit "posters."
Floral Arrangement: A vase with a lush bouquet of red roses on the side table. The roses must be vibrant in color, almost the only burst of liveliness in the room, with the light capturing their velvety texture and deep shadows.
Technology: The receptionist's desk must have a large beige CRT computer monitor, and a keyboard and mouse from the era (80s), serving as utilitarian anachronistic markers, contrasting with the general pictorial aesthetic.
The Characters and Their Expressions (Psychological Realism):
The Receptionist: Middle-aged, seated behind the desk. Her expression should be one of cold efficiency and slight existential weariness. She is not a villain, but a figure resigned to her role in this "threshold," with a gaze that denotes years of presence in this place. Her attire is formal 80s office wear, sober.
The Executive (The Guardian of the Threshold): An older man, impeccably dressed in a dark, well-cut suit. His face must project a quiet but unshakable authority, with a severity that is not cruel, but of one who carries an immense burden and knows the weight of destiny. He is the "CEO of a great celestial emporium," not an executioner, but the manager of an inescapable process. He stands by the desk, documents in hand, looking toward the ajar door with an expression combining seriousness with a kind of transcendent knowledge.
The Patients (Diversity in Waiting):
The Romantic Poet (Man): Seated, absorbed in a magazine. His face should be melancholic, with fine features and a dreamy or pensive expression, as if his mind were far away, perhaps in another time or place. His clothes, though 80s, should have a bohemian or careless touch suggesting artistic sensibility.
The Woman with Existential Inquiry (Black Blazer): Looking directly at the ajar door. Her expression should be a potent mix of awe, fascination, and deep existential questioning. There is no fear, but an overwhelming curiosity for the unknown. Her eyes must reflect a search for answers.
The Young Woman / Hippie (Leather Bag): With a slight "80s hippie" air, looking toward the ceiling or slightly upward, with an expression of reverie, perhaps of escape or serene surrender. Her clothing should reflect a more casual freedom within the 80s context.
The Woman in the Black Jacket: Looking toward the light emanating from the door, with an expression of contemplation or quiet anticipation. Her gaze is not one of fear, but of acceptance or even faint hope.
The Older Woman in Mourning (Margo): Seated slightly apart from the main group, in a deeper shadow zone. Her posture should be hunched, her face marked by grief and fatigue, with an expression of deep mourning and resignation. She wears dark, discreet clothing suggesting bereavement. She has already lost a loved one who crossed that door, and her presence underscores the reality and emotional burden of the wait for the others.
(Note: Two characters, Frankie and Max, are missing from the opening image; they enter the scene later).
The Ajar Door and the Beyond (Uncertain but Gentle Light):
The wooden door at the back, slightly ajar, is the focal point of the scene. Through the crack, an ethereal and warm glow should be seen, composed of soft, swirling lights in tones of gold, amber, and pastel purple. It is crucial that this light is not threatening or demonic, but evokes a sense of serene uncertainty, pleasant mystery, or unknown peace. This light should peek slightly into the real world of the waiting room, casting a subtle glow on the floor or the edges of the door, merging with the somber atmosphere of the interior.
Emotion and Subtext:
The image must convey a sense of solemnity, melancholy, and deep reflection on life, death, and destiny. Each character, in their own way, faces the imminence of a threshold, with emotions ranging from awe and curiosity to grief and resignation. The subtle allusion to the AIDS epidemic of the 80s, through the portraits, adds a layer of sadness and vulnerability to the wait, but the central message is the universality of confronting the unknown; thus, the dialogue never mentions the epidemic as the cause of everything, but rather it exists as an allusion.
(After a few seconds, a man impeccably dressed in a suit arrives: he is The Executive, or Celestial CEO, or Guardian of the "Beyond" if you will. Everyone looks at him uneasily. The man approaches the Receptionist and whispers something in her ear. They point to Arthur, who stands up and hands them a file. The Executive reviews and signs the document; the Receptionist stamps it and hands it back to The Executive, who, with a grave air, enters his private office. Arthur returns to sit near Sophie).
ARTHUR: Why so serious, Sophie?
SOPHIE: You know.
ARTHUR: There’s Sarah. Looks like she hasn’t slept. There’s good old Frankie, always tormented.
SOPHIE: He’s having a hard time.
ARTHUR: Margo... Did she buy the roses?
SOPHIE: Surely.
ARTHUR: I wasn't wrong.
(Arthur stands up, approaches the Receptionist, and asks something in her ear. She nods. He returns to his seat, picks up a small briefcase, and hugs it, anxious).
SOPHIE: Is it time?
ARTHUR: Not yet; only when they call us.
SOPHIE: So much paperwork.
ARTHUR: Yes. Everyone has their date and time. Some are in no hurry; most don't care or don't even think about it. (Lowering his voice) I cheated.
SOPHIE: I imagined as much.
ARTHUR: And why not? I wanted to do it.
SOPHIE: Yes.
ARTHUR: But I’m tired now; I want to reunite with Sergio. I had hopes that some extraordinary event would occur, some unusual twist, but... One should never force things.
SOPHIE: I dreamt of a colossal beast, a bull. It was breathing furiously right next to me, but it didn't charge. Someone, a man, told me: "Don't look at it directly, look down, with a grey gaze, towards the ground." The bull was next to me and I was barely caressing it, as if ignoring it. I liked the bull; he was my friend.
FRANKIE: (To Arthur) I’d like a coffee. Very strong.
ARTHUR: (Referencing the Receptionist) Why don't you ask her?
FRANKIE: She looks like she has a bad temper.
ARTHUR: Don't believe it. Ask her.
FRANKIE: (To the Receptionist) Can I have some coffee?
(The Receptionist nods with an almost imperceptible gesture. Frankie goes to a small table where a coffee maker sits, pours himself a coffee, and drinks it standing up, in small sips).
ARTHUR: (To Sophie) Frankie still behaves like a teenager.
SOPHIE: And he always will, but it works for him.
ARTHUR: Do you still love him?
SOPHIE: What! Not at all. I never...
ARTHUR: You liked him.
SOPHIE: That’s different, but loving him... I hate his seduction methods: always so defenseless, like a hungry puppy.
FRANKIE: (From afar) I’m the man of your dreams, you said so yourself.
SOPHIE: Never!
FRANKIE: You said I was an unbeatable lover, in your dreams.
ARTHUR: Is that true?
SOPHIE: No! (To Arthur) How can he be so vain! I’m the only one who hasn't... I’m not saying anything!
FRANKIE: (Approaches Sophie and, while still sipping his coffee, says...) I’d like to unbutton your blouse with my teeth, bite your breasts, lick your nipples. I want to spread your legs, bury my head between your thighs, then...
SOPHIE: Enough! Get away from here. (Frankie returns smiling to his spot, still taking small sips of coffee). It’s inconceivable. He’s so vain he’d be capable of sleeping with me just because I’m rejecting him now.
ARTHUR: You say he’s having a hard time?
SOPHIE: I don't care about him.
ARTHUR: Is it going badly, Frankie?
FRANKIE: Badly? It’s been absolute shit, in several aspects, but the worst is the money. I have to find a steady job. I’ve been eating rice and only rice. I returned some empty soda bottles just to buy bagels, cigarettes, and that’s it. I’ve eaten that for three days. Thank God today they paid me fifty bucks for a week of hard, very hard work.
SOPHIE: Didn't I tell you? He acts like a lost puppy. Little Frankie, don't you want me to lend you twenty dollars?
FRANKIE: Only twenty?
SOPHIE: You’re disgusting.
ARTHUR: (Without looking at anyone directly) And are you seeing anyone now?
SOPHIE: Me?
ARTHUR: No, yes, well... sorry, I was asking Frankie.
SOPHIE: That? His conquests last an hour... How long did the last one last?
FRANKIE: Are you talking to me?
SOPHIE: Two hours?
FRANKIE: A little longer... I rescued her from an ecstasy trip. Twenty-five years old, drove a Golf, had money: owner of two houses and more or less willing. We went out for four days, went to lunch, saw a play, had dinner, ate... We fucked really well once; a few other times we simply fucked. The last day we saw each other, suddenly, after seeing a play in The Village, back at her place, I tried to kiss her.
SOPHIE: But you haven't said her name.
FRANKIE: You want names and everything?
SOPHIE: Well, yes.
FRANKIE: Martha.
SOPHIE: No, seriously.
FRANKIE: That was her name, what do you want. I was truly stoned. She acted so evasive... I didn't know what was wrong with her. She told me she felt like a prostitute, that she didn't believe in relationships, that she always ended up feeling cold and distant, that she didn't want to continue.
(Silence. Max enters, 39 years old, tall and thin. He is very elegant. He is surprisingly intelligent. His gaze literally flashes over everything when he is being ironic. He sits in an armchair, apart from everyone. He opens a briefcase, takes out some papers, and reviews them quickly. He gets up and goes to the Receptionist. She, very professional, receives the documents and hands him a questionnaire. Max returns to his seat to fill it out).
MAX: (Speaks while answering the questionnaire, glancing occasionally at Sophie and Arthur) I saw a poll on TV about how certain groups thought their lives were going. Between "much better" and "much worse" there were different options. I am in the reduced population, 3%, of those doing "much worse." Those doing "much better" are 3% as well. The extremes always encompass the few.
SOPHIE: My life is going "more or less," what percentage would I be in?
ARTHUR: I’ve never believed in statistics.
MAX: Mine is a communication problem. Of not knowing how to treat the other, of not being interested in others. My problem is distrusting others, wanting to be alone because people scare me too much. I’m always thinking they’re going to hurt me and that’s why I push away any possibility of establishing real bonds. What a fucking neurosis.
SOPHIE: Poor Max, I’ve always liked him, but he’s so aggressive, so inaccessible.
ARTHUR: I think he’s a great guy, and I’m not saying that because he’s here, I’d say it anyway. With him, I’ve spent the funniest moments I can remember.
FRANKIE: At first, when I met him, he scared me. It felt like he was going to strike me down with that look he has. Remember Max, when the three of us went on vacation to the beach?
(Max looks at Frankie and for a response emits a grunt).
SOPHIE: Which three?
FRANKIE: Well who do you think: Me, Arthur, and Max.
SOPHIE: The donkey goes first.
FRANKIE: We spent one of the most fateful Christmases I can remember.
SOPHIE: Fateful! Look at you with the big words!
FRANKIE: What do you want me to say? Horrendous, hair-raising, fucked up?... Remember Max? In Atlantic City, it was like two in the morning and the only thing we had for dinner was the last hot dog from the last hot dog cart on the boardwalk. One hot dog for three, it was delicious.
SOPHIE: Mhh.
FRANKIE: Then, back at the hotel, we stuffed ourselves with the Christmas fruitcake Arthur’s mom had baked... A family-size Coke and half a bottle of cheap grain alcohol. These bastards didn't let me sleep all night.
SOPHIE: Why?
FRANKIE: Why do you think?
ARTHUR: (With double meaning) We were "talking" all night.
SOPHIE: Ahh.
MAX: Damn forms, do you guys think I’m going to remember my alien registration number? What is that?
ARTHUR: It’s only for foreigners, Max. But yes, they ask for everything!
MAX: Suddenly I stare into the void and nothing happens. Nothing. I just get anxious that nothing is happening and that I’m sure nothing will happen. I feel like ending it all, but it’s only a vague idea. I wouldn't dare commit suicide. The fact is, I don't dare do anything to change my circumstances either. I take myself so seriously, but the matter is serious.
(Silence).
(The office door opens and The Executive appears with a document in hand).
THE EXECUTIVE: I am going to call the names of the persons in the relative count. I must clarify that the fact that any of you are on this list does not necessarily mean you are to be admitted; it only indicates that you have been meeting the corresponding requirements and your file is being reviewed. At the end of the day, those who have already fulfilled category BF 0650 will be called for their final admission. For now... Mr. Arthur Morales.
ARTHUR: Here.
THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Maximilian Santos Garcia Oleguibel.
MAX: Olaguivel.
THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Joaquin Arizmendi Loaeza.
(No one answers).
THE EXECUTIVE: Not here?... Mrs. Connie Gutierrez Gonzalez?... (No one answers) No?... Mrs. Margaret Garcia Olaguivel Miranda.
(Margo, who until this moment had remained totally absorbed, responds with a dry gesture, only to immediately resume the same attitude).
THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. George Murcio Montoya? (No one answers) Miss Sophie Trueba.
SOPHIE: Present, sir.
THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Frankie Toledano Flores.
FRANKIE: Here.
THE EXECUTIVE: And finally... Miss Mary Sarah Rendon Batalla...
SOPHIE: Isn't it just Sarah?
THE EXECUTIVE: Is she here?
SOPHIE: Sarah, wake up!
SARAH: What?... Already?
THE EXECUTIVE: Mary Sarah Rendon Batalla?
SARAH: (Groosgy) Yes, me...
THE EXECUTIVE: It seems there have been some errors in your BF-005, could you verify the data with Eleanor?
SARAH: Eleanor?
THE EXECUTIVE: The receptionist.
SARAH: Yes, of course, sir.
THE EXECUTIVE: (To the Receptionist) Handle it.
(The Executive returns to his office. Sarah searches in a leather satchel. She pulls out some documents and tries to organize them).
SOPHIE: And that was it?
ARTHUR: Did you want more? We’re already on the list.
SOPHIE: But some aren't even here.
ARTHUR: It always happens.
SOPHIE: Can you imagine? If they mistook the person?
FRANKIE: They investigate thoroughly.
SOPHIE: I don't know, maybe they don't have everything planned. For example, what is this about still using a typewriter? Don't they know the world has evolved?
ARTHUR: Really?
SOPHIE: And this place... so sordid! It’s as if the streets and the people were left very far away.
FRANKIE: Hey, Sarah, I’ve always wanted a satchel like yours, but I haven't found one yet.
ARTHUR: Don't bother her; you see she’s struggling with the documentation and you still...
SOPHIE: I’ve said it before: Frankie is an animal. Should we help you, Sarah?
SARAH: No, I’m almost done... (To the Receptionist) Does the BF-005 have to have the orange stamp with the signature of receipt?
(The Receptionist simply nods).
FRANKIE: No, the one that is a torment is the BF-001. You have to get even your grandparents' marriage certificate, and then, four postcard-sized photos, three wallet photos, six passport photos... Ugh...
SOPHIE: I bet the child-sized photos didn't give you any trouble.
FRANKIE: You’d be surprised: they are very expensive.
SARAH: That’s it... (She gets up with a sea of papers, pulls out a sheet, and hands it to the Receptionist) I had kept the original. Is everything okay?
(The Receptionist nods. Sarah stands for a few seconds expecting some further comment, but the Receptionist, without looking at her, gets up with the document and enters The Executive's office).
ARTHUR: Sarah: you’re hopeless.
SARAH: It’s just that these bastards...
ARTHUR: Sarah!
SARAH: Well that’s what they are, bastards. They don't care about my life, they don't care if I have to take care of my son, they don't care if I have to work like a slave or spend nights awake at the hospital...
ARTHUR: The hospital?... Why, what happened.
SARAH: I’m an idiot... (Pause) We didn't want you to know.
ARTHUR: What.
SARAH: It’s Marco... He’s hospitalized.
(PAUSE).
ARTHUR: Damn it.
(PAUSE).
SARAH: Since three weeks ago.
ARTHUR: Very serious?
SARAH: Delicate.
ARTHUR: I’d like to see him.
SARAH: You know how this is: the family takes charge before anyone else. It’s a bit like being born again. They let me take care of him because... I don't know, Marco’s family always had the idea that I had been his girlfriend or something.
FRANKIE: Well, you were one of the few women in his life.
SOPHIE: Frankie, have some respect.
SARAH: I had always thought the most beautiful thing in a relationship was the romance. Now, even though I can name Marco as the man of my life, I think what was most important to me were these last few years, in which I can only say we were friends... (To Arthur) He knows you loved him very much.
ARTHUR: I hope so.
(Long pause. Sarah closes her eyes).
MAX: I dreamt of a luminous house with a huge pool, a truly huge pool. The diving board was very high up; there was also a slide. A diver suspended in the heights, seemed prepared, but anyone would have thought he was afraid of falling outside the pit; he needed to calculate everything very well before entering the water. When I woke up, I had the certainty that "taking the dive" was dying. The diving pit was a grave.
ARTHUR: We are like in war or as if we were very, very old. We are full of death and we don't know what to do with it.
FRANKIE: I drink. I drink and I have drunk every SINGLE day. And it doesn't help at all, although at least I numb myself and don't think. I find myself not in a dead-end alley but in something worse, an alley without the concept of an exit. What do you think, Arthur? At the last party, I drank like I hadn't in a while. On the couch, when I was very drunk, I don't know if I heard them talking about me or if they really were. Someone said to another: "It’s a shame to see him like this." I think I imagined it, but it’s very sad that they pity me.
ARTHUR: Sarah told me she saw you waiting for the bus on Broadway, that she waved at you and you didn't turn around. Right, Sarah?
SOPHIE: She’s asleep. The one I saw waiting at a bus stop was Reuben, remember Reuben? The one who slicked his hair back with cheap gel and got straight A's, always so flattering and boastful.
FRANKIE: Flattering!... And you criticize me for my fancy words. Flattering!
SOPHIE: (Unfazed) I thought: so getting straight A's did good old Reuben no good. How formal he is even waiting for the bus. He looked haggard, on the verge of desperation.
FRANKIE: It’s just that sometimes we think things a million times before simply doing them. I, for example, know it’s simple to perform many small feats like... turning off the gas, before allowing the water to evaporate and the pot to burn. I think about getting up and I see myself performing that tiny prodigy that is turning the gas knob and presto, the water stops boiling, however, I only think about it and of course, do you know how many pots I have burnt to a crisp?
SOPHIE: What does all that have to do with Reuben?
FRANKIE: In what sense?
SOPHIE: Frankie, where did you learn to think?
FRANKIE: Sophie, you wouldn't like to marry me, you love spending your life scolding me.
SOPHIE: Maybe in another life.
FRANKIE: It’s a deal.
(The Receptionist comes out of the executive's office with a new list).
THE RECEPTIONIST: Mr. Adrian Rey? Maurice Andrade? Maurice Rodriguez?
SOPHIE: Maurice? Maurice Rodriguez?
THE RECEPTIONIST: Do you know him?
SOPHIE: Know him? Did you say Maurice Rodriguez Andrade?
THE RECEPTIONIST: They are two people named Maurice.
SOPHIE: (To the others) Is Maurice's last name Parra?
ARTHUR: You should know.
SOPHIE: Well I don't remember. I think Parra Del Solar... (To the Receptionist) No, excuse me, it’s Maurice Parra del Solar. It’s not that one, right?
(The Receptionist shakes her head and immediately goes back into the office).
FRANKIE: I insist she has a bad temper.
SOPHIE: What became of Maurice? It’s another Maurice... The one who was half-Argentine, half-French. I remember once I tried to go to the movies with him and it was a disaster. We were going to see a Tarkovsky film, imagine that. He arrived late and that put me in a bad mood from the start. We went to the box office and discovered there were no tickets. We decided to go for a beer instead. I started to fume from the moment he began badmouthing everything he saw and treating me as if I were a foreigner in my own country. He said: (Imitates a snobbish accent) "How curious to be surrounded by pure foreigners." I replied: "Honey, the only foreigner here is you."
(Margo, who until this moment had been submerged in a barely visible seat, gets up, approaches the floral arrangement, and crouching down, removes some roses. Then, she distributes them to the others, saying the same phrase to each one).
MARGO: It is useless to cultivate memories; it is absurd.
(She says the same thing to everyone, but when she reaches Max she stands in silence for a moment and then repeats):
MARGO: It is useless to cultivate memories; it is absurd.
MAX: You’ve always been so hard.
MARGO: I had to be. When your father died, not a single tear.
MAX: I am just like you.
MARGO: You are weak. You have kept silent and that is fine sometimes, but you have gone too far. Here are your friends.
MAX: I know.
FRANKIE: Leave him be, ma'am, he has always been...
MAX: I what?
FRANKIE: Nothing, Max. Look, I’ve been calling you almost every day and it’s always the same answer. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, he feels sick." Isn't that right, ma'am?
SOPHIE: I’ve tried to call you too.
MAX: And why haven't you come to see me? I’ve never left the house. (Pause) I agree with my mother: memory is useless. There are so many absurd stories. I wonder what is going to happen with everything I have learned: so much reading, so much experience. I have given much, generously, I have been a good teacher, above all I have been a good friend. Now I am tired. I know by heart what is coming, I have seen it many times already. This time it’s my turn. (Pause) I’m going to turn the page; everyone else should do the same, you too mom.
MARGO: Some of you are heroes without a tribute.
MAX: It is better this way, some tributes only bind the spirit.
MARGO: I have never said anything, but I spend the afternoons in silence, thinking of all of you. My life will continue amidst small mists, exact schedules, and daily visits. I won't count the hours, but nothing will be the same.
MAX: You have to turn the page, mother.
MARGO: Turn the page, love. (Returns to her armchair).
(SILENCE).
FRANKIE: When Esteban died there were many candles, remember?... I had been with his mom for a good while and then I don't know who calls me, I think Monica. I walked past the small table with the candles and felt as if I caught fire but without burning, a very pleasant sensation of fire. I am sure he said goodbye to me in that way... (Pause) I don't believe memory is useless, on the contrary, I think it gives us meaning, cursed or full of light. And yet, I have no proof of the battles I have lived, no visible scar... Not even a sign as simple as a letter, a photo: I tear everything up. It is as if many stories hadn't happened. I don't like things, objects, trophies. I like them in others' houses, those little figurines are fine there, those tiny chests full of stories.
ARTHUR: I don't have photos of anyone either, I was always very Spartan, like Frankie. The clothes on my back... my shoes... and that’s it.
(Everyone falls silent again. Suddenly Sophie tries to suppress a laugh but can't).
SOPHIE: Sorry. It’s just that... I got so wasted and said such stupid things!
FRANKIE: At the wake?
ARTHUR: Yes, we all got wasted.
SOPHIE: I told Rick, Susan's boyfriend, that I loved the bulge he had under his zipper.
ARTHUR: How could you!
SOPHIE: What’s wrong with it? You don't like it?
ARTHUR: Of course not.
SOPHIE: Don't be a hypocrite.
ARTHUR: Well, alright, a little, like everyone.
SOPHIE: Like everyone?... Not Frankie.
FRANKIE: Not me what?
SOPHIE: You don't like Rick, I hope.
FRANKIE: What can I tell you, Max's mom is here.
SOPHIE: I don't think, at this point, Mrs. Margo gets scared of anything.
FRANKIE: Well look, he’s not a bad guy.
ARTHUR: Frank, don't go throwing bait, you can't handle it later. What is this about him not being a bad guy?
FRANKIE: That, that he’s not a bad guy.
SOPHIE: You too, Brutus?
FRANKIE: I only said he wasn't a bad guy, are you going to lynch me?
SOPHIE: But he looks like a mechanic!
FRANKIE: Didn't you say you liked him?
SOPHIE: Do you have anything against mechanics?
ARTHUR: Me?... No.
FRANKIE: I don't understand anything.
SOPHIE: You’re not the only one. Look, I like them but not in spirit, do I make myself clear?... I mean: the fact that I like them doesn't mean I don't like them.
FRANKIE: Forget it.
ARTHUR: I don't understand anything anymore either.
(SILENCE).
SOPHIE: Last night, around three in the morning I received a grotesque call. It was a woman's voice, I’m almost sure. She left a recording: "Baby... give me a blowjob, ohh." It was disgusting. For several reasons.
MAX: It doesn't surprise me that precisely these kinds of things happen to you.
SOPHIE: And why precisely to me?
MAX: Don't you realize you are extremely vulgar? "And who are you seeing... and, didn't you like so-and-so? and didn't you sleep with what's-his-name"... You make me nauseous.
SOPHIE: Ugh... Excuse me, man, I forgot you were an aristocrat.
MAX: Well, even if it bothers you.
SOPHIE: "Maximilian Garcia Oleguibel". Are you proud of the Garcia or the... Oleguibel...
MAX: Garcia Olaguivel, it’s a compound name.
SOPHIE: Ohh.
SARAH: Why don't you stop fighting.
ARTHUR: Sarah woke up.
SARAH: I wasn't... I wasn't asleep. I was thinking that yes, we are vulgar, we are cynical, insufferable, and worst of all, indifferent. We should do something for our lives.
FRANKIE: Sarah, always the idealist.
SARAH: And you think it’s better to cross your arms while life slips away.
FRANKIE: You have always been an idealist and naive. You think that by joining the trendy civil society you are going to change the world. You chase chimeras, impossible heroes. You go to protests thinking you are going to transform the world and you don't even know who pulls the strings nor with what intention. You are naive and old-fashioned.
SARAH: At least I’m not a reactionary like others.
FRANKIE: Call me a reactionary, but not old-fashioned, look at yourself Sarah, you look like you came out of the "Activist Chic" catalog. Let me tell you something, the Berlin Wall no longer exists, furthermore, did you know the Soviet Union disappeared?
SARAH: I still think there are men, and that soon we will have a leader to follow.
FRANKIE: Yes, Sarah, I hope you find one, you need it.
SARAH: I wasn't referring to that... Shit, more than shit.
(Very long silence. Baroque celestial music).
(The Executive and the Receptionist come out of the office, head to the desk, and sign a document. They turn to look at Arthur and then speak amongst themselves. Finally, The Executive addresses Arthur, very annoyed...)
THE EXECUTIVE: Mr. Arthur Morales?
ARTHUR: Yes.
THE EXECUTIVE: Could you please stand up.
ARTHUR: I’m fine like this, sir.
THE EXECUTIVE: I must inform you that we have had a series of adjustments due to an unspeakable falsification on your part.
ARTHUR: I don't understand, sir.
THE EXECUTIVE: According to this, you should have been transferred on July 24th of last year, but, due to an alteration in your primary documentation, final admission was delayed by at least two hundred and forty-three executable days. The limits you have crossed prevent the optional extension from being granted. Furthermore, I inform you that in the next cycle, the number of days stolen plus a 37% surcharge will be confiscated. Do you have anything to say in your defense?
ARTHUR: Nothing, I have nothing to say to you.
THE EXECUTIVE: Very well. Then... come with me.
ARTHUR: I’m going to say goodbye.
THE EXECUTIVE: Absolutely not.
ARTHUR: And who is going to stop me? You?
THE EXECUTIVE: (Looks at his watch) You have one minute.
(The Executive enters his office; the Receptionist sits, impassive, at her desk. Arthur remains in the middle of the room looking at the floor. Sophie gets up, hugs him intensely, kisses him, and caresses his hair. Frankie gets up and joins the hug. Then, Arthur separates from them and goes to Sarah, who sobs in the armchair; he caresses and kisses her; then he says goodbye to Margo with a kiss on the cheek. Finally, he approaches Max, offers his hand, but Max avoids his gaze).
ARTHUR: Aren't you going to say goodbye?
MAX: No.
ARTHUR: Why?
MAX: I prefer to go with you.
ARTHUR: I don't understand, you still have some days left, maybe months.
MAX: I prefer to go.
ARTHUR: (To the Receptionist) Can he do it?
(The Receptionist nods with an indifferent gesture).
(Max gets up, takes his briefcase, and says without looking at anyone):
MAX: Goodbye to all.
(The Executive peeks out again and looks at Arthur significantly).
THE EXECUTIVE: It is time.
ARTHUR: (Regarding Max) He is coming with me.
THE EXECUTIVE: It is his decision, all his papers are in order.
ARTHUR: You see, Max: everything is in order, how curious. I thought I had something else to do or say, but no... Nothing to do, Max. Nothing.
(THEY HEAD TOWARD THE INTERIOR OF THE OFFICE. THE EXECUTIVE CLOSES THE DOOR).
END
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Analysis of "Waiting Room"
Thank you! This is a truly insightful play. Here's the English translation of the analysis, along with a deeper dive into staging considerations, audience reception, and intergenerational perspectives on death.
Complete Analysis and Interpretation of "Waiting Room"
Benjamín Gavarre's play, "Waiting Room," initially presents a seemingly ordinary situation: a group of people waiting in a bureaucratic office. However, as the plot unfolds and the dialogues unravel, it reveals a profound exploration of existential themes, the human condition, mortality, the passage of time, regret, and the search for meaning in an environment that appears stripped of it.
1. Scenic Elements and Symbolism
The setting of the "waiting room" is crucial.
* The Room: It's not just a physical space, but a metaphor for limbo, for transition. It's a place where life, or perhaps existence, is in a state of indefinite pause, at the mercy of an impersonal authority. The "uncomfortable armchairs" and "impersonal paintings" reinforce the sense of unease and anonymity.
* The Red Roses: This "floral arrangement" is the only element with some vitality and color in an environment described as "sordid" and "impersonal." They are bought by Margo, the oldest and most enigmatic figure, which could symbolize the persistence of beauty, memory, or life itself, even in a place that anticipates the end.
* The Receptionist and The Executive: These are archetypal figures of dehumanized bureaucracy. The receptionist is "stern and efficient," of "indefinite age," underscoring her role as an automaton. The Executive, "impeccably dressed in a suit" and with a "grave air," represents unbreakable authority, an unappealable destiny. The indifference with which they treat the characters highlights the characters' powerlessness against a larger system that controls them.
* The Doors: The "main door" for entry and the "office door" in the background are significant. The first, the entrance to this "waiting room," and the second, the exit to the unknown (the "final admission").
2. Characters and Their Arcs
The characters, despite their superficial interactions, reveal layers of their personalities and internal struggles.
* Arturo (38 years old): He's the catalyst for much of the conversation. His "trick" (suggesting an attempt to hasten his fate) and his weariness from waiting position him as someone seeking control and an end. His desire to "meet with Sergio" and his eventual acceptance of fate, along with Max, make him a central figure in the resolution. He represents the search for an exit, even if it's a forced one.
* Sofía (29 years old): Initially engrossed, she becomes more open and confrontational as the dialogue progresses. Her sarcasm towards Francisco and Max, her dream of the bull (symbolizing confrontation with death or an inevitable but not necessarily violent fate), and her eventual emotional farewell to Arturo show her as someone who battles against indifference and the vulgarity of life. Her uncontrollable laughter and the wake anecdote suggest a way of coping with absurdity and tragedy through irreverence.
* Francisco (28 years old): The youngest of the group, he projects an image of immaturity ("like a teenager," "hungry puppy"). His economic precarity and his anecdotes of failed conquests paint him as someone who hasn't yet found his place or purpose. His reflections on alcohol and his inability to act, despite being aware of his problems, reveal him as a character trapped in inertia and self-deception. Despite his superficiality, he's capable of remembering shared moments and possesses a certain naiveté that makes him vulnerable.
* Margo (65 years old): Absorbed and almost inaudible at first, she emerges as a matriarchal figure carrying painful wisdom. Her repeated phrase, "It's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd," is a mantra that encapsulates despair and resignation towards memory and the past. Her husband's death and her toughness in the face of pain have marked her, and she transmits this view to Max, her son.
* Max (39 years old): Elegant and seemingly distant, he's the character who most explicitly verbalizes his existential anguish. His problem with "communication," "distrust," and "fear of others" isolates him. His dream of the "diving pit" as a "grave" is a direct metaphor for his perception of death as an inevitable "plunge." Despite his apparent harshness, his vulnerability is exposed through his mother and his final decision to accompany Arturo. He represents exhaustion, neurosis, and direct confrontation with futility.
* Sara (35 years old): Asleep at the beginning, she's awakened by the reality of her situation. Her idealism, contrasted by Francisco's cynicism, positions her as the only one who still believes in the possibility of change or a "leader." The revelation of her son Marco's illness is the play's hardest blow and connects her to the deepest vulnerability and pain, symbolizing a mother's tireless struggle.
3. Main Themes
* Death as a Bureaucratic Process: This is the central theme. The "waiting room" is the antechamber to death. The "transfer," "final admission," "files," "documentation errors" (BF-005, BF-0650), and the confiscation of days are terms that strip death of its solemnity, turning it into a cold, impersonal administrative procedure. This prompts reflection on how society (or existence itself) can reduce the most transcendental human experience to a mere process.
* Time and Waiting: The characters are trapped in a wait that consumes them. Time dissolves into incomprehensible procedures and agonizing anticipation. Arturo's "trick" and the postponement of his "transfer" emphasize the impossibility of controlling one's own destiny, even when attempting to manipulate the system.
* Memory and Forgetting: Margo and Max are the main exponents of this theme, with the idea that "it's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd." However, Francisco contradicts this by asserting that memory "gives us meaning, cursed or full of light," even though he destroys his own "proof." This raises the question of the value of personal history and whether attachment to the past is a burden or a source of meaning.
* Solitude and Human Connection: Despite being together in the room, there's a profound loneliness in each character. Interactions are often superficial, confrontational, or filled with misunderstanding. However, moments like the embrace of Arturo, the concern for Marco, or Max's decision to go with Arturo, suggest that, even at the end, human connection and affection are the only possible comforts.
* Search for Meaning vs. Absurdity: The play balances between the desperate search for meaning (Sara with her idealism, Max with his reflection on his life as a teacher) and the recognition of the absurd (Francisco with his inability to act, Sofía with her cynicism, the very bureaucratic nature of death). Max's line, "Sometimes I stare into the void and nothing happens. Nothing. I just get anxious that nothing is happening and that I'm sure nothing will happen," is the essence of this struggle.
* Human Vulnerability: Francisco's economic precarity, Marco's illness, Max's existential anguish, and Arturo's fatigue all illustrate the fragility of the human condition in the face of larger forces, whether social, personal, or metaphysical.
4. Style and Tone
* Realistic and Agile Dialogue: The play relies heavily on dialogue, which sounds authentic and reflects each character's personality. There are interruptions, sarcasm, intimate confessions, and moments of lightness that contrast with the gravity of the situation.
* Dark Comedy and Sarcasm: Despite the somber theme, there are moments of dark humor and sarcasm, especially in the interactions between Sofía and Francisco, and Max's comments. This lightens the dramatic load and highlights the absurdity of the situation.
* Fragmentation: Conversations jump from one topic to another, reflecting the mental dispersion of people waiting and the lack of linear narrative control over their own lives.
* Somber and Reflective Tone: Although there are moments of humor, the overall tone is melancholic and deeply reflective about life, death, and purpose.
5. Staging Considerations
Bringing "Waiting Room" to the stage would require a minimalist yet evocative approach, emphasizing the claustrophobic and timeless nature of the setting.
* Set Design: The "discreet desk," "uncomfortable armchairs," and "small table" should be stark and functional, perhaps with muted colors to enhance the "sordid" feel. The "impersonal paintings: still lifes" could be genuinely generic or subtly unsettling. The red roses in the corner should be a striking pop of color, drawing the eye and serving as a focal point for Margo's action. The doors (main and office) should be distinct and perhaps even imposing, especially the office door which represents the ultimate threshold.
* Lighting: Lighting could be used to emphasize the passage of time (subtle shifts from morning to afternoon, though time itself is fluid) or to highlight individual characters during monologues or moments of introspection. A dim, almost sterile wash could reinforce the bureaucratic, lifeless atmosphere, with occasional spotlights on characters as they speak, drawing the audience's focus to their internal struggles.
* Sound Design: Beyond dialogue, minimal sound effects would be powerful. The occasional subtle sound of a typewriter from the receptionist's desk could emphasize the antiquated bureaucracy. The distant, muffled sounds of a city (cars, faint chatter) could occasionally break through, underscoring the feeling that "streets and people were very far away," a stark contrast to the enclosed space. Moments of silence are explicitly marked in the script and should be carefully observed to build tension and allow the weight of the dialogue to settle.
* Blocking and Movement: The characters' initial stillness and discomfort in the chairs should be maintained. Movement should be purposeful and reveal character: Francisco's nervous page-flipping, Arturo's anxious embrace of his briefcase, Sara's fumbling with papers, Margo's deliberate action with the roses, Max's elegant but annoyed entry. The Executive's entrances and exits should be crisp and authoritative, emphasizing his power. The final goodbyes would require careful choreography to convey the emotional weight of each interaction within the minute given.
* Costumes: Costumes should reflect the characters' descriptions: The Executive "impeccably dressed," Max "very elegant," Francisco perhaps a bit disheveled, Sara in her "worn artisan wool bag," Sofía in more contemporary attire. These details subtly reinforce their social standing and internal states.
6. Audience Reception
"Waiting Room" is likely to elicit a range of powerful reactions from an audience.
* Initial Engagement: The everyday setting and relatable characters would immediately draw audiences in, creating a sense of "I've been there." The initial banter and character introductions establish a seemingly normal, albeit somewhat dysfunctional, group dynamic.
* Growing Unease and Identification: As the play progresses and the underlying themes of death, bureaucracy, and existential dread emerge, audience members would likely experience a growing sense of unease. They might begin to identify with the characters' anxieties about time, purpose, and the unknown. The play's allegorical nature would encourage deeper reflection, prompting questions about their own lives and their relationship with mortality.
* Emotional Impact: The revelations about Marco's illness and Max's decision to "go with" Arturo would be particularly poignant. The raw vulnerability of characters like Sara and Max, contrasted with the cynical humor, would create a complex emotional landscape. The final scene, with Arturo's resigned acceptance and Max's choice, would likely leave a lasting impression of profound sadness tempered by a quiet dignity.
* Intellectual Provocation: The play doesn't offer easy answers, instead it provokes thought. The dialogue about memory, meaning, and the absurdity of life would stimulate intellectual engagement. Audiences might leave debating the play's interpretation of death and the human condition.
* Resonance of the Universal: Ultimately, the play taps into universal fears and experiences: the fear of the unknown, the struggle for agency, the desire for connection, and the confrontation with mortality. This universality would ensure a strong emotional and intellectual resonance.
7. Generational Conclusions Regarding Death
"Waiting Room" offers a fascinating, albeit bleak, commentary on how different generations might perceive and cope with death and the end of life.
* The Younger Generation (Francisco, Sofía): Francisco (28) and Sofía (29) embody a more immediate, perhaps even flippant, relationship with life and death. Francisco's struggles are primarily financial and interpersonal, rooted in the present. His reflections on death are intellectualized ("alley without the concept of an exit") rather than deeply personal until he mentions Esteban's death. Sofía, with her irreverent humor and focus on fleeting relationships, initially appears less burdened by existential dread. Their discussions often revolve around personal grievances or fleeting pleasures, reflecting a generation still actively engaged in the "game of life," even if struggling. Their "waiting" is frustrating but not yet fully understood as an inevitable end.
* The Middle Generation (Arturo, Max, Sara): Arturo (38), Max (39), and Sara (35) carry the heaviest existential weight. They are old enough to have accumulated regrets, experienced significant losses (Marco's illness, Max's father's death), and faced personal and professional disillusionment.
* Arturo seeks to control his fate, even if through "cheating," and expresses a deep weariness. His "desire to meet with Sergio" hints at a longing for a reunion beyond this life.
* Max is consumed by neurosis and the fear of a meaningless existence. His "turning the page" reflects a profound exhaustion with life as he knows it. For this generation, death isn't just a distant concept but a palpable, approaching reality, a "diving pit" that must be faced.
* Sara, despite her idealism, is grounded by the harsh reality of her son's illness. Her perspective is shaped by caregiving and the fragility of life. For her, death isn't a philosophical concept but a deeply personal threat, embodying the relentless struggle of a parent.
This generation is at a pivotal point where the illusions of youth have faded, and the stark realities of mortality become undeniable. Their "waiting" is a process of internal reckoning.
* The Older Generation (Margo): Margo (65) represents a hardened, resigned acceptance of death and the futility of life's attachments. Her mantra, "It's useless to cultivate memories, it's absurd," speaks to a life lived, perhaps marked by too much loss, leading to a detachment from the past as a coping mechanism. She has faced profound grief (her husband's death without tears) and now stands as a somber guide to her son. Her "small mists, exact schedules and daily visits" suggest a life already scaled back, quietly waiting. For her, death is less a fear and more a quiet, known certainty, a natural progression where "nothing will be the same," but life will continue in its reduced form.
In conclusion, the play suggests that while death is an absolute and impersonal bureaucratic process that awaits all, the journey towards it is experienced profoundly differently across generations. Younger individuals may grapple with more immediate life struggles, while the middle-aged confront deeper existential exhaustion and the weight of their choices. The older generation, having weathered significant loss, may adopt a more detached, resigned acceptance, viewing memory itself as a burden. The ultimate act of choosing to "go together" (Arturo and Max) transcends these generational differences, suggesting that perhaps the only true defiance against the impersonal machinery of death is the solidarity and shared humanity found in the final moments.
Análisis e Interpretación Completa de "SALA DE ESPERA"
La obra de Benjamín Gavarre, "Sala de Espera", es una pieza de teatro que, a primera vista, presenta una situación cotidiana: un grupo de personas aguardando en una oficina burocrática. Sin embargo, a medida que la trama avanza y los diálogos se despliegan, se revela una profunda exploración de temas existenciales, la condición humana, la mortalidad, el paso del tiempo, el arrepentimiento y la búsqueda de sentido en un entorno que parece despojado de él.
1. Elementos Escénicos y Simbolismo
El setting de la "sala de espera" es crucial.
* La Sala: No es solo un espacio físico, sino una metáfora del limbo, de la transición. Es un lugar donde la vida, o quizás la existencia, se encuentra en un estado de pausa indefinida, a merced de una autoridad impersonal. Los "incómodos sillones" y los "cuadros impersonales" refuerzan la sensación de desasosiego y anonimato.
* Las Rosas Rojas: Este "arreglo floral" es el único elemento con cierta vitalidad y color en un ambiente descrito como "sórdido" e "impersonal". Son compradas por Margo, la figura más anciana y enigmática, lo que podría simbolizar la persistencia de la belleza, la memoria o la vida misma, incluso en un lugar que anticipa el fin.
* La Recepcionista y El Ejecutivo: Son figuras arquetípicas de la burocracia deshumanizada. La recepcionista es "adusta y eficiente", de "edad indefinida", lo que subraya su rol como un autómata. El Ejecutivo, "impecablemente vestido de traje" y con un "aire grave", representa la autoridad inquebrantable, el destino inapelable. La indiferencia con la que tratan a los personajes acentúa la impotencia de estos frente a un sistema mayor que los controla.
* Las Puertas: La "puerta principal" de entrada y la "puerta de un despacho" al fondo son significativas. La primera, la entrada a esta "sala de espera", y la segunda, la salida hacia lo desconocido (el "ingreso final").
2. Personajes y sus Arc os
Los personajes, a pesar de sus interacciones superficiales, revelan capas de sus personalidades y sus luchas internas.
* Arturo (38 años): Es el catalizador de gran parte de la conversación. Su "trampa" (que sugiere un intento de adelantar su destino) y su cansancio por la espera lo posicionan como alguien que busca control y un final. Su deseo de "reunirse con Sergio" y su aceptación final del destino, junto con Max, lo convierten en una figura central en la resolución. Representa la búsqueda de una salida, incluso si es una forzada.
* Sofía (29 años): Ensimismada al principio, se muestra más abierta y confrontativa a medida que avanza el diálogo. Su sarcasmo hacia Francisco y Max, su sueño del toro (simbolizando la confrontación con la muerte o un destino inevitable pero no necesariamente violento) y su eventual despedida emotiva con Arturo, la muestran como una persona que lucha contra la indiferencia y la vulgaridad de la vida. Su risa incontrolable y su anécdota del velorio sugieren una forma de lidiar con el absurdo y la tragedia a través de la irreverencia.
* Francisco (28 años): El más joven del grupo, proyecta una imagen de inmadurez ("como un adolescente," "perrito hambriento"). Su precariedad económica y sus anécdotas de conquistas fallidas lo pintan como alguien que aún no ha encontrado su lugar ni propósito. Sus reflexiones sobre el alcohol y la incapacidad de actuar, a pesar de la conciencia de sus problemas, lo revelan como un personaje atrapado en la inercia y el autoengaño. A pesar de su superficialidad, es capaz de recordar momentos compartidos y de una cierta ingenuidad que lo hace vulnerable.
* Margo (65 años): Absorta y casi inaudible al principio, emerge como una figura matriarcal y portadora de una sabiduría dolorosa. Su frase repetida, "Es inútil cultivar recuerdos, es absurdo," es un mantra que encapsula la desesperanza y la resignación ante la memoria y el pasado. La muerte de su esposo y su dureza ante el dolor la han marcado, y ella transmite esta visión a Max, su hijo.
* Max (39 años): Elegante y aparentemente distante, es el personaje que más explícitamente verbaliza su angustia existencial. Su problema de "comunicación," "desconfianza" y "miedo a los demás" lo aísla. Su sueño de la "fosa de clavados" como una "tumba" es una metáfora directa de su percepción de la muerte como un "salto" inevitable. A pesar de su aparente dureza, su vulnerabilidad se expone a través de su madre y su decisión final de acompañar a Arturo. Representa el agotamiento, la neurosis y la confrontación directa con la futilidad.
* Sara (35 años): Dormida al inicio, es despertada por la realidad de su situación. Su idealismo, contrastado por el cinismo de Francisco, la posiciona como la única que aún cree en la posibilidad de un cambio o un "líder". La revelación de la enfermedad de Marco, su hijo, es el golpe más duro de la obra y la conecta con la vulnerabilidad y el dolor más profundos, simbolizando la lucha incansable de una madre.
3. Temas Principales
* La Muerte como Proceso Burocrático: El tema central. La "sala de espera" es el antesala de la muerte. La "transferencia," el "ingreso final," los "expedientes," los "errores en la documentación" (BF-005, BF-0650), y la confiscación de días son términos que despojan a la muerte de su solemnidad, convirtiéndola en un trámite administrativo frío e impersonal. Esto genera una reflexión sobre cómo la sociedad (o la existencia misma) puede reducir la experiencia humana más trascendental a un mero procedimiento.
* El Tiempo y la Espera: Los personajes están atrapados en una espera que los consume. El tiempo se diluye en trámites incomprensibles y en una anticipación angustiante. La "trampa" de Arturo y la postergación de su "transferencia" enfatizan la imposibilidad de controlar el propio destino, incluso intentando manipular el sistema.
* La Memoria y el Olvido: Margo y Max son los principales exponentes de este tema, con la idea de que "es inútil cultivar recuerdos, es absurdo." Sin embargo, Francisco lo contradice al afirmar que la memoria "nos da sentido, maldita o llena de luz," aunque él mismo destruya sus propias "pruebas." Esto plantea la pregunta sobre el valor de la historia personal y si el apego al pasado es una carga o una fuente de significado.
* La Soledad y la Conexión Humana: A pesar de estar juntos en la sala, hay una profunda soledad en cada personaje. Las interacciones son a menudo superficiales, confrontacionales o llenas de incomprensión. Sin embargo, momentos como el abrazo a Arturo, la preocupación por Marco, o la decisión de Max de irse con Arturo, sugieren que, incluso al final, la conexión humana y el afecto son los únicos consuelos posibles.
* La Búsqueda de Sentido vs. el Absurdo: La obra se balancea entre la desesperada búsqueda de significado (Sara con su idealismo, Max con su reflexión sobre su vida como maestro) y el reconocimiento del absurdo (Francisco con su incapacidad de actuar, Sofía con su cinismo, la naturaleza misma del proceso burocrático de la muerte). La frase de Max, "De repente miro al vacío y no pasa nada. Nada. Sólo me angustio de que no pase nada y de que estoy seguro no pasará nada," es la esencia de esta lucha.
* La Vulnerabilidad Humana: La precariedad económica de Francisco, la enfermedad de Marco, la angustia existencial de Max y la fatiga de Arturo, todos ilustran la fragilidad de la condición humana frente a fuerzas mayores, ya sean sociales, personales o metafísicas.
4. Estilo y Tono
* Diálogo Realista y Ágil: La obra se basa fuertemente en los diálogos, que suenan auténticos y reflejan las personalidades de cada personaje. Hay interrupciones, sarcasmo, confesiones íntimas y momentos de ligereza que contrastan con la gravedad de la situación.
* Comedia Negra y Sarcasmo: A pesar del tema sombrío, hay momentos de humor negro y sarcasmo, especialmente en las interacciones entre Sofía y Francisco, y los comentarios de Max. Esto aligera la carga dramática y resalta el absurdo de la situación.
* Fragmentación: Las conversaciones saltan de un tema a otro, reflejando la dispersión mental de las personas en espera y la falta de un control narrativo lineal sobre sus propias vidas.
* Tono Sombrío y Reflexivo: Aunque hay momentos de humor, el tono general es melancólico y profundamente reflexivo sobre la vida, la muerte y el propósito.
5. Interpretación Profunda
"Sala de Espera" es una alegoría de la vida misma, vista como una interminable sala de espera hacia la muerte. Los personajes son almas en tránsito, cada una lidiando con sus propias cargas, arrepentimientos y expectativas. La "oficina" y sus "trámites" pueden interpretarse como el destino, el karma o simplemente la indiferencia cósmica. La vida se reduce a "requisitos" y "expedientes," despojando a la existencia de su trascendencia.
La decisión final de Max de acompañar a Arturo, a pesar de tener más "días," es un momento crucial. Sugiere que, ante la inevitabilidad del final, la compañía y la elección consciente de no esperar pasivamente son actos de afirmación. Es un rechazo a la soledad del proceso y una aceptación de la conexión en el momento final. La frase de Arturo al final, "todo está en orden, qué curioso. Yo pensaba que tenía algo más que hacer o qué decir, pero no... Nada qué hacer, Max. Nada," es una conclusión desoladora pero liberadora. Implica que, al final, las grandes ambiciones, los logros y las palabras a menudo carecen de importancia frente a la simple y absoluta realidad de la partida. La vida es la espera, y la muerte es simplemente el momento en que se "cierra la puerta" de esa sala.
La obra nos invita a reflexionar sobre cómo vivimos nuestra propia espera: ¿nos aferramos a la memoria, la despreciamos, buscamos significado, caemos en la inercia, o intentamos forzar nuestro camino? En última instancia, sugiere que, aunque el "ingreso final" sea inevitable y burocrático, la forma en que nos relacionamos y el significado que le damos a nuestra "espera" son las únicas variables que podemos controlar.
