In Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, the play-within-a-play becomes a play-within-a-play-within-a-play. Hamlet’s Murder of Gonzago—one of literature’s iconic frame stories—remains in Stoppard’s adaptation, highlighting the human fallibility of its protagonists through its layers of meta-level self-reflections. It also presents a paradox about the nature of storytelling.
The Murder of Gonzago begins as an attempt to explain. In response to Guildenstern’s question, the Player explains that the dumbshow “makes the action that follows more or less comprehensible; you understand, we are tied down to a language which makes up in obscurity what it lacks in style.” The dumbshow transcends the limits of language, gesturing at the very circumstances that Guildenstern and Rosencrantz find themselves in.
But in the case of Stoppard’s ill-fated protagonists, the dumbshow confounds more than it illuminates. The Murder of Gonzago dumbshow introduces a dizzying level of complexity instead. There are essentially two frame stories at work: the dumbshow with Lucianus avenging the death of his murdered father, but also the Hamlet whose plot they are called upon to inhabit. The stories nestle within themselves, to the point where Guildenstern and Rosencrantz are in a play watching a play. Whatever lessons or morals either story offers also fall upon deaf ears. Even when presented with a point-blank rendition of themselves, Guildenstern and Rosencrantz entirely miss the point. Unlike King Claudius, who sends the troupe packing, the protagonists are hopelessly oblivious during the rehearsal. The Player goes so far as to chide the Tragedians that “you’re not getting across” and that “it doesn’t seem to be coming.” Guildenstern and Rosencrantz are sandwiched within two narratives and fail to recognize either.
In their inability to learn from the dumbshow, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s engagement with the frame stories points out the cruelty of narrative logic. They are doubly bound by two stories and unable to do anything about it. The play’s use of frame stories underscores a cruel contradiction—that the same narratives we tell ourselves also end up limiting us.