Hytner's deadline was useful. There have been suggestions that, rather like the Shakespeare in his Oscar-winning screenplay for Shakespeare in Love, Stoppard has been suffering from writer's block, something that he has neither emphatically admitted nor fulsomely denied. "I wish I could remember how to write a play," he said a couple of years ago.
His previous stage play, Rock 'n' Roll, set partly in communist Czechoslovakia, the country of his birth, opened at the Royal Court as long ago as 2006. Still, it has been a productive 50 years or so. Stoppard has written more than 30 stage, screen and radio scripts, won numerous theatre awards, that Oscar (shared with Marc Norman) and in the eyes of many (and of the most recent Evening Standard theatre awards) become the greatest living playwright. When, while struggling to write The Hard Problem, he said, "my brain isn't good enough any more," it must have made playwrights who lack the dramatist's talent for finding drama in intellectual enquiry (probably all other playwrights) feel a bit thick.
Stoppard didn't go to university. By 1954 the 17-year-old had left school and was a newspaper reporter in Bristol.
A few years later he would begin work on the debut play that would announce the arrival of a blazing new talent.
"It was the most classy situation comedy you can imagine" says Edward Petherbridge, the National's Guildenstern in 1967.
He remembers Laurence Olivier, the National's first artistic director, calling him to his office. This was when the National was at the Old Vic and Olivier's office was a converted Coal Board hut in Waterloo.
"He was dressed to leave and his chauffeur-driven car was purring outside. He just handed me this script and said: "Guildenstern! Marvellous part, marvellous play."
The director, Derek Goldby, who was only 25 at the time, has more challenging memories of Olivier. "We had a very long meeting in Olivier's flat," recalls Goldby. "Me, Tom, [Kenneth] Tynan and Olivier went through the script. Olivier was scared. He wasn't sure this play would work at all.
"He had a particular problem with the moment when Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are on the boat and read the letter which says they're going to be put to death. Dramatically that is a very powerful moment. But Olivier would never accept it. He said: 'If they know they're going to be put to death, why don't they just jump off the ship?' Eventually he turned on me like Richard III and raged: 'You think I'm full of shit!' Tom was prepared to let us fight it out. He is a great diplomat and a gentleman. Very modest. Still is."
The rush of excitement Petherbridge felt when he first saw Stoppard's script has stayed with the actor, now 77.
"I read the play on the bus back to Peckham, where I was living at the time. I thought I could hear it. I could hear the dialogue.
"If I could have asked an author for a bespoke play this would have been it."
Petherbridge would have been one of the very earliest people to have encountered that particular quality of Stoppard's. Today it's called Stoppardian. It's a mix of breathtakingly articulate dialogue, vaulting language, Wildean wit, but also the ability to combine all those things with complex collisions and intersections.
In Arcadia, for instance, Stoppard abuts Classicism with Romanticism, art with nature, the 19th with the 20th century.
And it wasn't a quality that was developed gradually over a period of work. It landed as a fully formed theatrical force, unlike anything that had been seen before. For Antony Sher, who played the misremembering British consulate official Henry Carr in an RSC revival of Travesties, the language sets Stoppard apart from all other modern playwrights.
"As an actor the only modern playwright to present the same kind of challenges as Shakespeare is Stoppard," says Sher. "The challenge of speaking Stoppard is exactly the same as that of speaking text by classical writers. His language isn't like [that found] in other modern plays. Travesties begins with a 20-minute monologue -- just a little starter for the actor playing Henry Carr.
"I remember seeing the original production with John Wood, not understanding it and feeling stupid. Then when I was offered it and I began to read it deeply I thought, 'no, this is fantastic'.
"It is the same challenge with Shakespeare. People complain that Shakespeare is going to be too difficult to understand. Our job is to take those worries away and to somehow communicate meaning. It's the same with Stoppard."
It will be interesting to see if The Hard Problem affects audiences' hearts as much as it stimulates their minds.
There was a time when the dramatist's reputation was for achieving the latter more than the former. But The Invention of Love (1997), which imagines the poet A.E. Housman encountering his younger self -- "I'm not as young as I was. Whereas you, of course, are" -- and discussing Sophocles and the nature of love, is anything but emotionally sterile.
Love also loomed large in The Real Thing (1982). Its central figure is Henry, a playwright. "I love love," he says. "I love having a lover and being one. I love the way it blurs the distinction between everyone who isn't a lover." Henry leaves his wife for an actress.
The play is not based on personal experience. But to some extent life caught up with art when Stoppard's second marriage, to the writer and broadcaster Miriam Stoppard, broke up and was followed by a seven-year relationship with actress Felicity Kendal, who has starred in first productions of many a Stoppard play, among them Arcadia (1993) and The Real Thing. Last year Stoppard married again, this time to Sabrina Guinness, the brewery heiress.
Four Stoppard hits
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead (1966)
Critical opinion has cooled a little towards Stoppard's audacious debut since its premiere, but as first plays go, the meta-theatrics of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern take some beating. In what also doubles up as a homage to Beckett's Waiting For Godot, the two bit-characters from Hamlet take centre stage as a wisecracking double act bewildered by events around them.
Jumpers (1972)
The collapsing marriage of a philosophy professor is the main thrust of this delicious satire, set in an alternative Britain ruled by "Radical Liberals" and where British astronauts have landed on the moon.
The Real Thing (1982)
Stoppard belied his reputation as a man interested only in the brain with this 1982 drama, in which Henry abandons his wife for the bewitching Annie only to experience his own betrayal. It is a gut-wrenching play, although, with its play-within-a-play structure, also a typically Stoppardian meditation on the line between appearance and reality.
Arcadia (1993)
Regarded as Stoppard's masterpiece, he achieved a mesmerising synthesis of philosophical investigation and searing human drama in this play, set in two different centuries in the same Derbyshire country house. As the life of 19th-century maths prodigy Thomasina is pitted against that of her 20th-century counterparts, chaos theory, the unknowable forces of history and the existential tragedy of the human condition combine in a dazzlingly sure-footed drama about the nature of uncertainty.
- Independent
