Hamlet
Reviews by Carole Gordon and Mary Kelch
Opening night by Carole Gordon
You may think you know Shakespeare. You may think you know Hamlet. I did. But this production challenges every preconceived notion of what this play is or should be.
I must have seen at least ten different Hamlets - this is without doubt the best, the most exhilarating, the most physical - with a clarity that is quite outstanding. Not just in the diction of the actors (which is perfect in an acoustically perfect building) but also in the exposition of the plot. Never an easy play to follow, this production makes the plot comprehensible in a way I have never seen before.
And Paul is simply superb.He has a mesmerising stage presence and gives this role his all - and then some. There is an energy in his performance which is exhausting to watch. Every ounce of Hamlet's passion, anger, grief and frustration is brought out with intelligence and wit. This Hamlet is smart, his hesitation over exacting revenge for his father's murder emanating from an intellectual need to rationalise his actions rather than any wimpish lack of will. But just when he summons up his sinews to act, his sharp brain intercedes and intellectualises his plans - and the moment is lost.
Highlighting the comedy in a play that is well-known as a tragedy could have resulted in a misguided mess. That it remains true to the text and is simultaneously hilarious and tragic is a tribute both to Shakespeare's writing and to Paul's brilliant acting. Paul appears to know instinctively just how far to go before he is irretrievably over the top - and he slips effortlessly between feigned madness and lucid musings that constantly remind the audience that Hamlet's actions are founded on his grief.
I must also praise Joe Ziegler's direction.There are moments in this that took my breath away with their creativity. I won't go into details in order not to spoil it, but suffice it to say that, for example, the placing of the intermission break is sheer brilliance.
The set is wonderfully minimalist - no superfluous blocks of styrofoam to be seen. The dry-ice fog at the start is something of a cliché - and led to a bout of unfortunate coughing in the audience (it also seems to make the theatre a little cool). The set changes are accomplished seamlessly by a fleet of "pages" in costume ensuring the briefest of delays between scenes.
I would have said I was a purist as far as Shakespearean settings/costumes are concerned, so I wasn't entirely convinced that the 1820s setting would work for me. But as Paul said, the costumes are "beautiful, elegant and hugely sexy" and less distancing than the traditional tights-and-tabards that can cause school-girl giggles and detract from the play. It looks stunning.
All in all, this was the most intense and emotionally moving theatrical experience of my life.Worth crossing an ocean for? Without a doubt.
A June review by Mary Kelch
With every production of Hamlet comes the opportunity for new insights into this centuries-old play. The Stratford Festival production with Paul Gross in the title role offers a couple which I found particularly striking -namely, the depth of Hamlet's despair and Ophelia's purpose in the story.
From the moment Hamlet appears on stage, his despair is evident. And there is no defiant moping or childish pouting in his aspect. He is clearly overwhelmed by a genuine sadness and grief to the point that he is unable to join in the life that marches on around him. He makes his dutiful appearance at the royal assembly, but seems almost to be trying to make himself invisible. He hides in a corner of the room with bowed head and slumped body and never once looks upon the goings-on until he is addressed by his uncle.
The way this scene was played was a revelation. I had expected a hint of anger, or at least resentment, toward Claudius, as, if memory serves, has been present in all of the several Hamlets I have seen. But this Hamlet was humble, obedient, in obvious emotional distress and perhaps a bit ashamed or frustrated at his inability to "cast (his) nighted color off."
We do catch a glimpse early on of the possibility for a happy vitality in Hamlet in his reaction when Claudius first broaches the subject of Hamlet's request to return to school. Hamlet's whole body springs to life as he finally lifts his face to Claudius in hopeful anticipation. But his hope is quickly dashed as the King denies Hamlet's request.
I was very pleased to see Gross emphasize Hamlet's emotions so clearly in this scene, because I have long believed it holds the key to understanding all that follows. Moments after Laertes is allowed and, indeed, encouraged by the King to "take (his) fair hour," that same King denies Hamlet such a luxury. "His will is not his own." Hamlet must forfeit his own wishes in order to fulfill his societal duties, and Gross conveys all the painful realization and hopelessness of this fact with wonderful clarity - even when he is not speaking. The sob that begins to overtake him as the others leave the room, and to which he gives full vent once alone, is heart-wrenching in its sincerity, as is the later scene in which Hamlet meets his father's ghost and crumples to the ground as they embrace. This Hamlet truly "know(s) not 'seems'."
Although I have always understood Laertes to serve as a foil to Hamlet, I have found it much more difficult to grasp Ophelia's relation to Hamlet and was initially thrown into even more confusion by Marion Day's portrayal, which is, like that of Hamlet, in sharp contrast to the portrayals I have known. The scene where she spurns Hamlet and he responds with "Get thee to a nunnery" puzzled me relentlessly! Rather than the anger from Hamlet and sorrow and/or fear from Ophelia that I am accustomed to, I saw devastation and alarm from Hamlet and essentially nothing (emotionally) from Ophelia. I had to ask myself how a director could allow such a performance.
Ophelia's mad scene, however, brought her earlier scenes into focus. I realized she was essentially a child, incapable of independent behavior. Even her voice sounded like that of a child. She obeyed her father without question and looked up to her brother with pride and fascination, happy to see him go off on his adventures, with no expectation of ever living such a life herself. She is childlike in her teasing of Laertes and, when he warns her against opening her "chaste treasure" to Hamlet, she giggles like a child who is embarrassed by such a naughty insinuation yet is secretly enjoying entertaining the indiscretion behind Daddy's back.
It seems that Ophelia is usually endowed with at least a semblance of hidden independence, but Day's Ophelia is truly a child. And that makes her madness and eventual suicide after the loss of her father eminently more understandable and logical. Her inappropriate actions in the mad scene remind me of a robot that has been short-circuited or gone haywire. Order and discretion are gone. It tries to do everything at once, but manages only a frenzy of nonsensical activity. Ophelia could not live without her father. She was a babe without a life-sustaining source, a robot that has lost its programming.
It appears that, in Ophelia's mind, Hamlet was more a playmate than a romantic love. He had given her some toys and she had to return them to him when her father told her the game was over. She could feel no adult romantic connection to Hamlet because she was not a complete individual adult herself. However, the characters certainly have a kinship in that they parallel one another, and Hamlet does seem to have strong feelings for Ophelia on some level. His body language when she returns his gifts without a speck of regret or emotion makes it clear that he is feeling a great, and frightening, loss at that moment.
The break-up with Ophelia (and Ophelia's eventual death) would seem to symbolize Hamlet's growing up and leaving his child behind. As played by Gross, this is not a cruel Hamlet telling Ophelia "to a nunnery, go" but a disillusioned Hamlet who had believed something and suddenly is startled by the illusion-shattering truth. His desire to shield Ophelia from the world and to outlaw all marriages speaks eloquently of his wish to keep others from experiencing this same agonizing loss of illusions.
The sparse sets and simple costumes allow the characters to tell this universal story without superfluous visual intrusions to distract the audience's attention from the heart of the play. And Gross's portrayal of a man consumed much more by inner turmoil than by bitterness and vengeance against outside forces emphasizes Hamlet's journey, which is at once both personal and representative of the human race.
I feel fortunate to have experienced Joseph Ziegler's vision of Hamlet, brought to life by Gross and the company. My understanding of this play is now much more personally satisfying, both intellectually and emotionally.And more than ever, I find myself wondering how a production directed by Shakespeare would compare to this production.