Word: beckett
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...regional theaters' desire to nurture new plays and playwrights. Up to now they have been pretty timid about it. The tendency is to cater to the subscribers' varied tastes by dividing a season between classics, proven Broadway hits of recent vintage, and such fashionable avantgardists as lonesco, Beckett, Pinter and the ubiquitous Brecht. More ambitious than most, Los Angeles' Mark Taper Forum is genuinely trying to offer original plays. One such experiment, Oliver Hailey's Who's Happy Now?, opened last week to generally happy notices by local reviewers...
...Interpreters, relies on stream-of-consciousness techniques and other Joycean devices; yet the symbolism and spirit of the book are unwaveringly African. His play, The Road, which won first prize in the first and only Dakar Festival of Negro Arts, is infused with patterns and dialogue reminiscent of Beckett and Pinter, but the message is uniquely African. A kind of African Waiting for Godot, it concerns a group of drivers, thugs, passengers and autoparts scavengers in a broken-down truck who are dominated by an ex-minister awaiting a revelation. The revelation is that the road itself...
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD takes the little men of Shakespeare and transforms them into the little Every-men of Beckett. In his American debut, British Playwright Tom Stoppard, 30, offers an agile, witty play that snaps with verbal acrobatics and precisely choreographed dances of the mind, while coming heartbeat close to the pity and terror of mortality. In the title roles, Brian Murray and John Wood are phenomenal, and Derek Goldby's direction has tensile strength...
ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN ARE DEAD takes the little men of Shakespeare and transforms them into the little Everymen of Beckett. In his American debut, British Playwright Tom Stoppard, 30, offers an agile, witty play that snaps with verbal acrobatics and precisely choreographed dances of the mind, while coming heart-beat close to the pity and terror of mortality. In the title roles, Brian Murray and John Wood are phenomenal, and Derek Goldby's direction has tensile strength...
They kill the time with intellectual vaudeville-puns, word games, syllogistic oneupmanship. As they do so, it becomes apparent that Stoppard owes fully as much to Samuel Beckett as he does to Shakespeare. R. and G. are transparent replicas of the two tramps who wait for Godot. But where Beckett's dialogue almost expires in pauses of resignation, Stoppard's lines pant with inner panic. Delivered with comic ardor at machine-gun speed, R. and G.'s interchanges combine mental verve with spiritual desolation. It is as if the quiz kids of Wittenberg U. found themselves desperate...