play review .
for those of us that can’t keep up with exaggerated shows of intelligence, tom stoppard’s play the real inspector hound may be confusing at first. the parody of a ‘whodunit’ play opens with two men speaking of nothing in particular and an obviously distasteful production which is only elevated due to the attractive female leads. at this point i find myself studying the male characters and listening closely to their intelligent conversation in hope of understanding what they really mean. eventually the audience is at no loss to see where stoppard is getting at; he’s making fun of critics who use their work as a display of their own exhuberance, as well as the classical detective fiction with its plausible yet unrealistic twists and turns…
although watching an english extension play isn’t at the top of my priorities, stoppard provides an interest inescapable for those studying his text. how one man could write such a horrid play within a play and elaborate critical misgivings creating confusion among the audience and be praised as one of the greatest playwrights is beyond me. but then again, many things are. the one hour and fifteen minute play closed with a bang, leaving most people to wonder about it after their suspension of disbelief, and myself able to picture it yet still not understand it for all its glory.
when i first read the play i felt as if i was missing out on something the world knows, my membership in the extension 1 english club not good enough for me to be entitled to this information. the story line has since become more clear, but the deeply hidden meanings are still yet to surface. when i understand it i’ll tell you if it’s worthwhile watching or not. but even then, you probably will still consider it not.