The story of the young Dane contemplating how to take revenge on the uncle who has murdered his father has been done uncountable times by companies throughout the centuries. In this version by director Martin Parr, Hamlet is not given much time to pointlessly ponder his actions. At the Rose, Bankside.
The story of the young Dane contemplating how to take revenge on the uncle who has murdered his father has been done uncountable times by companies throughout the centuries. Contemplating love, madness, suicide, family and politics, it’s a story that can serve as a vehicle for numerous explorations of political and social issues. In this version by director Martin Parr, Hamlet is not given much time to pointlessly ponder his actions.
Turning a play that usually sprawls between two and a half and three hours down to the TV movie-length of 90 minutes is an achievement in itself. This Hamlet zips along rather nicely, and the fact that time is clearly out of joint in this interpretation overall plays to the advantage of the piece.
Only four actors play the most prominent characters in this version, and it is self-referential and witty about the play’s own performance and reception history. When Hamlet addresses the audience almost conversationally right from the beginning, we know that this chamber piece-approach is also aiming to explore motives of theatricality or performances of public personae.
For example, efficient text edits cut right to the core of the “play in the play”, and having Claudius (Liam McKenna in a charismatic performance) give the audience the murdering knave. This elevates the whole section from a mere plot contrivance to make Hamlet see his uncle’s guilt into an eye-opening observation of such human foibles like flattery or guilt and how they relate to our inner demons and fears.
To have both Getrude and Ophelia played by the same actress (Suzanne Marie) opens the door to some very intriguing implications, some of which might be subtly about incestuous urges, others, when Getrude recounts the news of Ophelia’s demise, are played nearly like an out-of-body recollection.
It’s not an abstract meta-Hamlet though, the characters and their motivations are very much the focus. Seeing Hamlet performed on the site of the original Rose Theatre is a special treat, so the set and props are minimal and effective. Rebecca Brower’s design, which is dominated by red strings of light, adds depth to the character’s actions and turns the challenging and confined space of the Rose into an intriguing spectacle. It jars slightly with the chamber theatre approach of the piece, but it is still wonderful to watch how the performers claim the unusual space as their own. The Rose has a great acoustic for a place that’s essentially a little wooden stage with a roof looking out on an excavation site, and in this historically-laden place Shakespeare’s words sound as fresh and crisp as the day they were written.
Jonathan Broadbent’s Hamlet is a soft-spoken and sometimes impish man – a strong performance with a more adult-like approach to the character, which made sense in the overall arc of the story. And Jamie Sheasby, faced with the challenge of being Laertes, Rosenkrantz and the Gravedigger, found some very convincing and entertaining-to-watch nuances.
Not all of what was attempted works though. A card game with poisoned tequila shots never quite reaches the dramatic heights of the sword fight in the original. This is a great Hamlet for Shakespeare new-comers and open-minded connoisseurs. To me it felt like nothing essential was missing from the story, but with its ruthless cuts it is definitely not for people hallowing the original text.