Talkbacks are on my mind, and when they are, I invariably search, find and read Liz Duffy Adams’ “Talkback: A Play About Talkbacks.” There is no other play that more accurately captures the experience in such a hilarious way.
In their short play, Adams imagines an audience giving feedback to William Shakespeare on “Hamlet.”
Talkbacker 4 jumps in with, “Right now it’s really kind of a mess, you know, it’s all over the place. Like in the, what is it, the fourth act, when he comes back and tells us all that mishigas about switching the letters and being captured by pirates? Well, that’s just poor craft, poor playwriting; I’m sorry, but it just is.”
This is so accurate it hurts. Then:
“Talkbacker 5: Yeah, I have something to add on that—first of all, Bill, it’s such a beautiful play, really, so powerful and poetic, and you know, evocative. So, just know that.
Bill (warily): Thanks.
Talkbacker 5: But I agree with a lot of what people are saying: it’s like three or four plays’ worth of stuff in there, and I think if you want the audience to stay with you you’re going to want to take a serious, like, weed-whacker to it. One thing I’d urge you to cut is that scene in the graveyard. It breaks the tone, like someone was just saying about Crazenrose and Guilderstein. I mean you’ve got this very serious existential play about the ethics of revenge (Bill looks startled for a moment) and right when Hamlet should be going for the kill, you derail all the dramatic momentum and take us into a—I guess it’s supposed to be a comic scene, black comedy—with the goofy gravediggers and the skull, and Hamlet remembering the dead guy, York or whatever—and I just, I’m not sure what that adds to the play. I think it’s a detour that we just don’t need.”