5 Questions with Actor Antonio Teodoro

Ask the academics how to understand Antonio Teodoro’s character in Waiting for Godot, Samuel Beckett’s mysterious, mythic play, and they’ll waffle about his very existence : Is the boy even alive? Is he just a dream? A symbol? Unnamed and unsure of his own place in the world, the boy appears twice to Estragon and Vladimir (played by Jimmy Kieffer and David Strathairn, respectively), prolonging their waning hope for Godot’s arrival. Teodoro has his own thoughts on his character and his brief yet significant dialogue. (Spoiler alert: He thinks the boy is real). Audiences can decide for themselves.

Teodoro works a day-job at Smyth Companies (a label manufacturer founded in St. Paul), and he graduated in 2024 with a degree in Asian and Middle Eastern studies from the University of Minnesota. He didn’t participate in the U of M’s BFA Actor Training Program (which partners with the Guthrie). Instead, Teodoro performed at various theaters around the Twin Cities during his college years. He rattles off the local directors he’s worked with, grateful for this real-world experience. While establishing himself as an actor, he’s also working on writing a Mandarin adaptation of Romance of the Three Kingdoms , a five-part Chinese epic from the 14th century (half in Chinese seven-syllable meter, and half in English iambic pentameter).

Teodoro was an understudy at the Guthrie this past spring in Somewhere (“In some sense, I guess the entire production of Somewhere was my audition,” he says), and he was asked to join the cast of Waiting for Godot by artistic director Joseph Haj. Catching up over his lunch break at Smyth, Teodoro reflected on his experience so far, elated to be working with such a phenomenal cast, exuberant about his role, and excited about his first time on the Guthrie’s Wurtele Thrust stage, where Waiting for Godot will run until Oct. 11.

Waiting for Godot marks your acting debut at the Guthrie. Do you have any memories of the first show you saw at the Guthrie?

I think the first show I watched was probably what a lot of people's first Guthrie show is: A Christmas Carol. I've seen it now twice, once on the McGuire Proscenium [stage], once on the Wurtele Thrust. But I've not only been an audience member of the Guthrie–I've been an usher at the Guthrie. I've worn the blue shirt before. And what I remember noticing about the Wurtele Thrust, [where Waiting for Godot is staged] is that it is a remarkably intimate space for a thousand [people]. The audience and the actors are so close to each other, despite the fact that it can hold a thousand people.

Antonio Teodoro Waiting for Godot is a serious, existential story, and I bet it's a lot to chew on at 25. What unique experience and perspective as a young person do you bring to the cast and to the production as a whole?

A lot of people read [the play] in school. For me, that wasn't very long ago. I haven't actually been out of the world of education for very long. Being around here, I was here during the ICE occupation back in January. I experienced a lot of that very close up. And as far as being so much younger, [there are the] connections to a lot of the mental health issues that we've seen on the rise. It was really interesting to have a chance to look at this play again [now] because my first exposure to it was reading it when I was, like, 16.

You’re working and performing with locally and nationally acclaimed actors: Daniel Strathairn, Jimmy Kieffer, Jim Lichtscheidl, and William Sturdivant. What have you learned from them so far? What do you think they’ve learned from you?

I'd actually taken a class from William Sturdivant at the Guthrie before, so it’s fun getting to work with him instead of studying from him and getting a direct look at his process.

I’m learning and just listening to them as much as I can. I’m watching their process and the way they play off each other, especially Jimmy [Kieffer] and David [Strathairn]. After one of the dinners we all got together for, David gave me a ride home, and we ended up talking a bunch about theater, about the arts and literature. He’s got me really into Louis L’Amour books now.

We spent, I think, the first week and a half, maybe even two weeks, just doing tablework, which is the most I've ever done for a show by far. I get to hear about their past experiences navigating stuff, even stuff as simple as what things you can ask for as an equity member because I've only been an equity member for one year, so I don't know how all of those processes work.

And then as far as what they could learn from me, truthfully, I don't know how much I have to teach them. But, well, we talk about how the boy is the only one of the characters who grew up into this wrecked world [of the play]. And in a similar sense, I am the only one in the cast who has no memories of the pre-9/11 world. I was eight months old when the towers fell. I have no memory of a pre-internet world. I have no memory of a pre-war-on-terror world. So all the things that they have watched change…That's just all I know. And so, I would just say, I hope that they look at these things a little differently now.

You have two appearances on stage during the play, and your moments and messages are critical ones. Can you speak more to your character’s significance?

There are some people who believe that the boy doesn't even necessarily exist. That's not the direction that [Haj] wanted me to take, nor was it the direction I wanted to take. I approach it [by thinking about] the questions that are being asked of the boy throughout the show, things that are very simple, like, Where do you sleep? Where do you work? Every time he's asked for a qualitative answer, he pauses. He's not sure what the answer is.

The key question that he's asked at the end of the first act is, You're not unhappy? Like, Do you know if you're unhappy or not? He doesn't know. He doesn't have an answer. And I've tried to approach that as someone who's never even thought about this before: The distress of having to think for oneself for the first time.

There's not a lot in the actual dialogue to work with. You have to really read between the lines and look at the stage directions. It's been somewhat challenging, but also very rewarding to navigate through a part where there's so little to analyze, but so much there.

Artistic director Joseph Haj said he’s been waiting to direct this show for a while. Why do you think now is the moment to perform Waiting for Godot again after over 50 years since its last staging at the Guthrie?

A lot of people, myself included, are starting to not see as much optimism. There’s a lot of discussion about the death of the American dream—the struggle of finding meaning and purpose in a meaningless and perhaps purposeless world. Where the promise of—just work hard, go to college, and you'll make enough money to buy a house and raise a family—if you're around my age, you probably know that is not necessarily true. I think, in that sense, [ Waiting for Godot ] is kind of perfect for right now and that struggle.

I got to speak to some of the people who were in the last production of [ Waiting for Godot ]. I actually met the man who played my role in 1973. I'm beginning to see how different the world was in 1973 versus now, and yet, we find ourselves looking at the same struggle despite all of the change.

5 Questions with Actor Antonio Teodoro

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