Rosencrantz and Guildenstern...Survived?
The humour of the play is provided by a dialogue peppered with misunderstandings, witty word play and good timing
| 07 Aug 2007
For those well-versed in theatrical history, the Stoppard and Beckett influences on this production will be evident. For those well-versed in the art of wine, duvet and box-set nights in, parallels with Channel 4's Lost will shine through. Finding themselves stranded on a desert island, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern don't know where they are, how they got there, or if they are alone on the island. This is further complicated by the disembodied voice in the trees and the conspiracy theory that they may in fact be dead.
Appearing originally as peripheral characters in Hamlet, who are shipwrecked and presumed dead, this time round the men take centre stage, quipping their way through a baffling predicament. The humour of the play is provided by a dialogue peppered with misunderstandings, witty word play and good timing. It is also reliant on the notion of the mismatched comic duo. The nice-but-dim oafishness of Rosencrantz is balanced by the logical, terrier-like Guildenstern. However, occasional breaks from their assigned roles avoid either of the characters becoming too tiresome.
For a production concerned with meta-theatre and the notion of the play within the play, the makeshift stage, unconvincing props and unimpressive venue suitably reinforce the point being made. In this play nothing is resolved. Nobody dies. Very little happens. The joke then is on the audience who, despite this fact, are kept enthralled for the full eighty minutes.
Appearing originally as peripheral characters in Hamlet, who are shipwrecked and presumed dead, this time round the men take centre stage, quipping their way through a baffling predicament. The humour of the play is provided by a dialogue peppered with misunderstandings, witty word play and good timing. It is also reliant on the notion of the mismatched comic duo. The nice-but-dim oafishness of Rosencrantz is balanced by the logical, terrier-like Guildenstern. However, occasional breaks from their assigned roles avoid either of the characters becoming too tiresome.
For a production concerned with meta-theatre and the notion of the play within the play, the makeshift stage, unconvincing props and unimpressive venue suitably reinforce the point being made. In this play nothing is resolved. Nobody dies. Very little happens. The joke then is on the audience who, despite this fact, are kept enthralled for the full eighty minutes.