Arnold on Hamlet

One essay in the Bloom anthology (see 10/11/15 post) is entitled "Hamlet Once More," by Matthew Arnold.  I remember Arnold's poem, "Dover Beach," from my high school sophomore English class.  (Admittedly, I don't recall much else about the poem.)

Arnold characterizes Hamlet as "tantalising and ineffective."  He explains the reason for that statement.

"To the common public Hamlet is a famous piece by a famous poet, with crime, a ghost, battle, and carnage; and that is sufficient.  To the youthful enthusiast Hamlet is a piece handling the mystery of the universe, and having throughout cadences, phrases, and words full of divinest Shakespearian magic; and that, too, is sufficient.  To the pedant, finally, Hamlet is an occasion for airing his psychology; and what does pedant require more?"

Arnold's problem with Hamlet is precisely its mutability.  As he puts it, "The rest is puzzle."  It lacks the "perfect comprehension and profoundest emotion, which is ideal for tragedy."  Instead, it presents difficulty in interpretation and solution.  That, for Arnold, is an issue.

I can agree with Arnold, to a point.  (Maybe the line about pedant makes me defensive.)  I think part of the greatness of the play is its adaptability.  Hamlet fits (or can fit) different historical periods.  It can be relevant to different generations of playgoers.  Unfortunately, this can lead to abuses as well.  Just because Hamlet can be adapted does not mean that every adaptation is valid.  If it were less of a puzzle, perhaps directors would be less likely to commit the transgressions that I have detailed in previous posts.  On the other hand, though, if every performance of Hamlet were exactly the same it would make for boring theatre.  It's that directorial balancing act that makes it such fun to watch (and about which to pontificate post after post).

National Debacle

After months of anticipation, October 15 finally arrived.  The National Theatre's broadcast of Hamlet starring Benedict Cumberbatch was shown on the big screen through Fathom Events and NT Live.  In the case of the summer trip to Stratford, the time spent waiting was well rewarded.  Unfortunately, this experience was entirely the opposite.  It was an utter disaster.

It did not take long to realize that something was seriously rotten.  The play opened with Hamlet sitting in what appeared to be his bedroom, listening to a vinyl LP on his phonograph.  There was a knock at the door.  Hamlet:  "Who's there?  Nay, answer me.  Stand and unfold yourself."  Horatio entered, and the two friends chatted.

That simple opening said much about this production.  I have no problem with updating Hamlet to fit a different historical context.  I have seen (and written about) modern presentations that have been done quite well.  Also, I understand that editing is necessary, especially as the print version of Hamlet was probably never performed as such during Shakespeare's day.  What happened here, though, was different.  Scenes were rewritten and lines were given to different players to speak.  That is intolerable.  It smacks of arrogance on the part of the director, in this case Lyndsey Turner.  It's as if the director has decided that Shakespeare did not know what he was doing and she could do it much better.  As this production displayed, it was not even close.

The set consisted of a large castle hall.  It was well-arranged and well-decorated.  The problem was that it was the only set.  We were supposed to believe that the second floor of the set was castle parapets, even though the decoration had not changed.  When we returned after the interval for Act II, the castle had been filled with dirt, as if a front-loader had delivered fill during the intermission.  Why?  This was never explained.

What was the time period of the play?  I still don't know.  Initially I would have guessed early to mid- 1900's.  The were candles on the table, but there was also electricity.  At one point there was an office on stage, with furniture and Bakelite rotary telephones.  The music had a Jazz Age feel.  Later, though, Hamlet appeared in a David Bowie Ziggy Stardust T-shirt.  1970's?  By the time it was all over, I no longer knew or cared.

An additional irritation was the revision of the text.  Again, editing is one thing, but rewriting the language is another.  Stubbornness was "unholy," not "impious."  One did "heed"" and did not "reck" his reed.  It became "our" philosophy, not Horatio's alone.  Ophelia was not "beautified" at all.  Hamlet was "hot" and not "fat" and scant of breath.  A "union" became a "jewel."  To what purpose is changing the words?  While some alterations maintained the meter, other instances were a bit more ham-fisted.

I cannot say much about the acting.  There was nothing terribly impressive about any of it.  None of the characters was sympathetic.  Perhaps this was due to the excessive shifting of roles and redistributing of lines.  Hamlet tried far too hard to play an antic disposition.  Polonius was neither shifty nor foppish, but just plain bland.  Laertes came off as a sort of East African warlord, which did not fit the demographic of the rest of his family.

The editing was schizophrenic.  Scenes morphed in and out of other scenes with no apparent regard for exits and entrances.  Hamlet's "too, too solid flesh" soliloquy was delivered while the court was seated around a large banquet table.  There was a freeze-frame, the rest of the cast was put into shadow and slow-motion, and Hamlet spoke in the foreground.  Polonius burst onto a later scene declaring that he would be brief, but the editing provided no background to his speech.

When first we saw Hamlet pretending to be mad, it was in the costume of a toy soldier.  Why?  (This was a question throughout the evening.  That and WTF?)  As he repeated "except my life, except my life..." he feigned suicide by hanging with the drum strap around his neck.  Cut, in the middle of the line, to the "To be or not to be" soliloquy, with Hamlet sitting on a table.  The soliloquy ended upon the arrival of ambassadors from Norway.  The nunnery scene appeared later, just before the arrival of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.  Hamlet took Polonius' line about the arrival of the players, and then the troupe arrived.  We were treated to some invented dialogue, evidently to replace the line about "mobled queen," which was not good.  In the midst of the player's speech about Priam, the "rogue and peasant slave" soliloquy appeared, couched in another freeze-frame.  "What's Hecuba to him or he to her?"  Unfreeze, cue the players and then "The play's the thing...."

Next we saw Hamlet instructing the player about speaking the speech according to instruction.  (If only the director had followed this advice!)  One of the player's lines was something about a "smiling, damned villain."  Hamlet and Horatio had a short interlude, during which Horatio presented Hamlet with a painted plate displaying Claudius' image.  I don't know where that scene falls in the original play.  Then it was time for "The Mousetrap."  As Hamlet spoke of chameleon's dishes and promise-crammed air, Gertrude blurted out "These words are not mine."  I was about to yell at the screen, "No, they're Claudius's words!" but I was able to restrain myself.  There was no dumb show (save the entire production).  Hamlet took the role of Lucianus, speaking his lines and killing Gonzago.  "Smiling damned villain" reappeared.  There was a need for light and then Hamlet declared, "Tis now the witching time of night."  Um, methinks there was a word missing.

I applaud the director for the framing of the chapel scene, even if there was no chapel.  Claudius was on ground level, on his knees, praying.  Hamlet entered above on the second floor overlook.  It explains why Hamlet can deliver a soliloquy without Claudius hearing.  I recall reading that suggestion once and thought it made good sense.  Here, it was well-played!  That led to the chamber scene (with no bed).  Hamlet and Gertrude actually did garner some slight sympathy in this scene.  It was one of the most realistic interludes of the evening.  But then the scene was over, Hamlet dragged Polonius away, multiple people ran or crawled across stage looking for him, Ophelia ended up on stage screaming with her hands covered in Polonius's blood, cue an explosion of leaves and Act I was over.

As Act II began, my first thought was "Why is the castle full of dirt?  Was there a landslide?"  Fortinbras appeared, and Hamlet delivered the "How all occasions" soliloquy.  It seemed edited, but as it is not one that appears in every production, it could have been my own unfamiliarity with seeing it performed.  Ophelia's madness scene was dreadful, largely due to entirely unsympathetic acting and, again, to invented dialogue.  Laertes reappeared, all emotion and bluster.  Letters were delivered.  Somewhere in there was a mention of a character named Matthias.  I don't know who that is.  We moved to Ophelia's burial.  The second gravedigger was female, in a business suit and heels, carrying a portfolio/clipboard.  Who was she?  I'm not sure.  Yorick was there, but there was no mention of Alexander or bungholes.  Hamlet and Laertes scuffled.  Claudius and Laertes plotted at graveside Hamlet's demise, including preparing a chalice "of the like."  Osric, or Voltemand (the same actress, at least) invited Hamlet to the duel; as she was a female character, there was no hat.

Finally, the duel arrived.  Hamlet was in a white fencing vest.  The rest of the cast was in black.  (Subtle.)  The first two passes of the fight were lame.  Then a mess erupted.  Hamlet was nicked with the poisoned foil.  He and Laertes brawled.  Just as Hamlet was about to wound Laertes there was another freeze-frame, completely destroying the moment.  The cast members started some sort of dance of death as shadows played on the walls.  Unfreeze.  Laertes was stabbed.  Then Gertrude decided to drink.  (Had she forgetten her cue?)  She dropped dead, Horatio declared that the drink was poisoned, the usual suspects died and the rest was silence...until Fortinbras arrived to claim his rights of memory.  He advised someone (who?) to take up the body (only one?) and then sent Horatio to bid the soldiers to shoot.  As Horatio climbed the dirt mountain upstage, the screen faded to black.

Thus, the most foul murder of Shakespeare's classic was ended.  To say it left a sour taste is to understate things.  The only saving grace--I did not have to fly to London to see the production.  It was $15 and three hours, spent.

Bloom's Hamlet

Another collection of essays on Hamlet has been added to the collection on my bookshelves.  This one is a secondhand copy of Bloom's Shakespeare Through the Ages:  Hamlet, edited by Harold Bloom and Brett Foster.  It is an anthology reminiscent of Hamlet:  Enter Critic, mentioned in this blog long ago.  (See 7/29/13 post and others.)  This one will be suitable for keeping on my desk at work and perusing during the few fleeting free moments of the school day.  Look for the occasional post to appear here as the material warrants.

Ghostly Fringe

The First Niagara Rochester Fringe Festival has become an annual tradition in Upstate NY.  Another tradition has been at least one show worthy of a blog post.  This year was no exception.  Amidst the concerts and comedy was a theatrical presentation entitled HamletGhosts.  A production of the NYC-based company, The Brewing Dept., here's the description of the show, taken from the Fringe Festival Guide.

"Through a series of vignettes mixing Shakespeare with Lady Gaga, Yahoo Answers and personal narratives, audiences witness the guts of Hamlet without any of the plot."

It's an interesting idea.  Show a play without actually showing the play.  At the end of the seventy-minute show, though, this audience member was left wondering, "What was that?"

The show began with an actress dressed as a clown introducing the remaining cast members.  She became the de facto tour guide of the production, moving in and out of scenes and in and out of the audience, as the case warranted.  A schizophrenic scene followed, questioning the value of Hamlet and finding answers on Yahoo.  With that, we were off and running.

The rest of the production was an often unrecognizable mish-mash.  There was just enough Hamlet to justify the title.  The play was five acts in length.  There were occasional snippets of dialogue borrowed from Hamlet's soliloquies.  Ophelia proclaimed Hamlet's madness...and caressed the blogger's right arm by way of example.  Mel Gibson appeared; at least, his voice did as the audio from the chamber scene in the Zeffirelli film was played while a cast member lip-synced.  The duel scene of Act V was reenacted, albeit very loosely.  The play closed with dead bodies strewn about the stage and our tour guide lamenting the end of the performance.

Mixed into the obvious Hamlet allusions were numerous oddities.  There was plentiful discussion of death, especially suicide.  There were stories of Twitter meltdowns and open readings of depressive diary entries.  There were dance numbers set to contemporary pop music.  There was cross-dressing and soft-core (fully clothed) erotica.  One scene involved a shirtless cast member recounting his sexual discovery and coming out.  In what had to be the most bizarre inclusion of all, a fish hat-wearing cast member gave directions on how to clean a fish while using audience members to assist her.

The Fringe Festival is touted as a celebration of creativity.  This show was certainly creative and unique.  Somewhat endearing in its outright weirdness, it was an interesting, albeit not terribly enjoyable diversion.

P.S.  Fortunately, I was able to exorcise the ghosts immediately after the show.  Live and loud rock music courtesy of The Ginger Faye Bakers was the perfect remedy to scare them away!