The Truth

While learning the lines for a play, some tend to stand out more than others. Without spoiling too much of the plot, I'd like to share Guil's reflections about truth:

"All your life you live so close to truth it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye, and when something nudges it into outline it is like being ambushed by a grotesque."

This is particularly relevant for our very grotesque production, but it is also very relevant for life in general: we don't really want to face up to truth, because when we do, we are disappointed and sad and angry. We're rather go on knowing It is out there somewhere, comfortably seated in the living-room armchair, smoking its pipe in its slippers and velvet gown, and reading a good book (most probably Hamlet).

Part of the tremendous fun of this play is that Guil is a seemingly wise character, who's in fact very stupid, and Ros is a seemingly stupid character who's in fact very wise. The question is: which one of these would you rather be?

Guil It's all questions.

It is very challenging to set something so funny and yet so self-reflective, tragic and deep and to be faithful to all these things - in an hour and fifteen minutes! We don't wanna lose the tragedy and the philosophy of it, and we want people to enjoy these moments - but we want to make them laugh as well, because this play is so funny (and because otherwise everyone'd fall asleep). So how do you do that?

How do you get to the truth of theatre? - that thin line between tragedy and comedy? That exquisitely precise balance?



Ros Answers, yes. There were answers to everything.

Guil You've forgotten.

Well, we'll see if we can grasp a bit of truth, and if you, dear spectator, will be able to help us nudge it into outline.