I just read Tom Stoppard’s “Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead”, which is praised as a deep and intellectual play. It appears to operate primarily by stringing us along with a few lines of boring dialogue, then throwing in something random or meaningless. The unexpected line intrigues us; we feel the thrill of curiousity, undiluted by any interest in dramatic tension, plot, or character. But the dialogue’s breakneck speed forces us to leave it behind before we can inspect the line and discover it says nothing we didn’t already know. Repeat until curtain.
The play is allegedly “about” destiny vs. free will, significance vs. insignificance, and death. But it merely rambles on about these things, presenting trite, overused metaphors and angstful reactions in pretentious language, without ever making an argument. An argument must begin with facts, and Stoppard’s play carefully and deliberately excises all facts from the start.
To establish some grounds for comparison, can you list three or four plays which do say things we didn’t already know, and which make an argument beginning with facts?
That said, I continue to be puzzled by the idea that plays should specify problems and work towards answers (or tell us things we didn’t know, or make arguments beginning with facts); objecting to a play on the grounds that it doesn’t do this strikes me as about as sensible as objecting to a scientific paper on the grounds that it doesn’t rhyme.
That said, it’s possible I just have too narrow a scope of what a play is. That’s why I asked for examples of plays that do have this property; if pointed at such a thing I might completely rethink my understanding of what makes a play worthwhile. If you have examples handy, I’d be grateful.
Thanks for clarifying. Of those I’ve only seen Mindwalk but I understand better what you mean now.
And, sure, I agree that there’s a mostly unexplored popular-entertainment niche for this sort of rigorous message film; I originally thought you were supporting a different claim.
(shrug) This reduces to the question “what are plays for”? Whatever they’re for, failing to do that thing is grounds for objection.
I expect “that thing” is a disjunction, and I don’t claim to have a full specification. But in much the same way that one doesn’t have to be able to articulate precisely what a business plan is for in order to be pretty confident that the fact that it isn’t in iambic pentameter isn’t grounds for objecting to one, I don’t think a full specification of the purpose of theatre is necessary to support the claim I’m making.
That said, if I strip out the implicit context and address your question in isolation… “failing to entertain” is probably a generic enough answer to cover most of the bases.
I just read Tom Stoppard’s “Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead”, which is praised as a deep and intellectual play. It appears to operate primarily by stringing us along with a few lines of boring dialogue, then throwing in something random or meaningless. The unexpected line intrigues us; we feel the thrill of curiousity, undiluted by any interest in dramatic tension, plot, or character. But the dialogue’s breakneck speed forces us to leave it behind before we can inspect the line and discover it says nothing we didn’t already know. Repeat until curtain.
The play is allegedly “about” destiny vs. free will, significance vs. insignificance, and death. But it merely rambles on about these things, presenting trite, overused metaphors and angstful reactions in pretentious language, without ever making an argument. An argument must begin with facts, and Stoppard’s play carefully and deliberately excises all facts from the start.
To establish some grounds for comparison, can you list three or four plays which do say things we didn’t already know, and which make an argument beginning with facts?
The grandparent is either the most amazing missing of the point or a perfect troll. And possibly also this comment? shit I’ve gone too deep.
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You may be right.
That said, I continue to be puzzled by the idea that plays should specify problems and work towards answers (or tell us things we didn’t know, or make arguments beginning with facts); objecting to a play on the grounds that it doesn’t do this strikes me as about as sensible as objecting to a scientific paper on the grounds that it doesn’t rhyme.
That said, it’s possible I just have too narrow a scope of what a play is. That’s why I asked for examples of plays that do have this property; if pointed at such a thing I might completely rethink my understanding of what makes a play worthwhile. If you have examples handy, I’d be grateful.
.
Thanks for clarifying. Of those I’ve only seen Mindwalk but I understand better what you mean now.
And, sure, I agree that there’s a mostly unexplored popular-entertainment niche for this sort of rigorous message film; I originally thought you were supporting a different claim.
.
(shrug) This reduces to the question “what are plays for”? Whatever they’re for, failing to do that thing is grounds for objection.
I expect “that thing” is a disjunction, and I don’t claim to have a full specification. But in much the same way that one doesn’t have to be able to articulate precisely what a business plan is for in order to be pretty confident that the fact that it isn’t in iambic pentameter isn’t grounds for objecting to one, I don’t think a full specification of the purpose of theatre is necessary to support the claim I’m making.
That said, if I strip out the implicit context and address your question in isolation… “failing to entertain” is probably a generic enough answer to cover most of the bases.