Tom Stoppard's debut 1966 play could be called Waiting for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern: it matches Samuel Beckett's meditation on the meaninglessness of existence with Shakespeare's portrait of a man whose search for meaning leaves him paralyzed. That's a wonderful conceit, but it is a conceit, requiring the lightest of directorial touches so the serious doesn't […] The post Popping an absurdist soap bubble appear…
