The ICTC sent an e-mail notification that the matinee performance of Hamlet would begin with an introductory lecture. I was happy to bump up my arrival time in order to be able to attend. Conducted by Dr. Barbara Bono, a professor at the University at Buffalo, the presentation's non-pithy title was "Hamlets and Your Hamlet: A Conversation about Famous Hamlets, the ICTC Hamlet, and Your Hamlet." The talk turned out to be introductory in nature. Dr. Bono spoke about how Hamlet is "hugely open to interpretation." She began with historical information about the play. Next she compared the film roles as acted by Laurence Olivier, "the contemplative Hamlet," and Mel Gibson, "the Hamlet of action." Also included were the portrayals by Kenneth Branagh and Ethan Hawke. Dr. Bono set the stage for the performance we were to see that afternoon. The set and dress would be modern, and the Fortinbras subplot would be omitted; fairly standard directorial treatments. She described Hamlet as a graduate student in divinity at Wittenberg, leading me to wonder if she had ever seen David Davalos' play of that name. At the conclusion of the talk, the floor was opened for questions or for stories about one's "Hamlet." There was not enough time (or heaven knows, enough interest among other audience members) for me to suck the air out of the room with personal Hamlet stories. (Thank you, reader, for making it this far.)
The lecture afforded the audience a chance to examine the theatre and the set. The theatre is not quite in the round. It is, rather, in the shape of a diamond, a baseball infield if you will. The seating is very comfortable. I had a front row seat, which was at stage level, in theory a great sight line. I am not sure about sight lines if one has another patron sitting in front. Continuing the allusion to baseball, the set consisted of the infield done as a tile floor with alternating dark and light tiles. There were patches of stone at each corner; think the bases of the diamond. In addition, at first, second, and third base there were piles of jumbled furniture, much as one would find in one's attic. There was a wooden frame set up in the shape of a squared-off "U", with the bottom of the "U" at second base. The frame allowed one to think of walls or doors, even if cast members did not use them consistently as such.
The cast entered, attired in modern dress. I noticed immediately that Polonius, directly in front of me, had forgotten to tie his shoes. Hamlet, attired all in black, dragged his own chair on stage while the others used assorted chairs that were already placed. Hamlet's opening dialogue was a bit unsettling. It was loud, stilted, and grossly emotive; it did not bode well for the afternoon at the theatre. Time would tell.
Hamlet's meeting with the ghost of his father provided the first questionable directorial decision. The ghost had a physical body. Hamlet and the ghost engaged in hugs and other physical contact. It was not explained how this could happen. Were we peering into the inner workings of a deeply disturbed prince who imagined the ability to touch a ghost? For the moment, we were left to wonder. Hamlet rejoined his friends and asked them to swear upon his sword, although it was only a knife.
The arrival of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to Elsinore led to additional directorial oddities. Their initial meeting with Hamlet consisted of dialogue without discussion of fortune's "privates." Following, the two were left to sit uncomfortably on paint cans that were produced from the detritus at first base. There were plenty of chairs on stage. Why should there be paint cans, and why should they be forced to sit on them? As a humorous point, it failed. As a serious plot device, it also failed. The entrance of Polonius to inform Hamlet of the players came as Hamlet delivered a line about it being a Monday morning. With all of the lines that had been excised thus far, this throwaway line (which I had to look in a text to find) was left intact.
Hamlet's "rogue and peasant slave" soliloquy was a mess. It passed from unbelievable to totally unbelievable as Hamlet screamed "O vengeance!" at the top of his lungs. I recalled a Hamlet lecture from my college days during which the professor played a cassette tape of a version of that soliloquy with a wretched shriek of the same line. This particular speech lacked any realistic emotion. Additionally, it was becoming ever more apparent that our Hamlet had trouble with the rhythm of Shakespearean English. Think William Shatner doing Hamlet...with the stresses in all the wrong places.
The players--both of them--entered. It was the smallest troupe I can recall seeing. Budget constraints? Smallpox? Whatever the problem, the first player was the same actor who had played the ghost. Strangely, Hamlet saw him and acted as if he recognized him as the ghost. This made no sense at all. The fact that one actor doubled the roles should not have become a plot point. To wit, the actor played the priest during the funeral scene and seemingly was not recognized there, so why should it have happened at this point? Odd direction. The Priam speech and associated dialogue were edited. Polonius interrupted, but there was no retort about his going to the barber. It was another example of original Shakespearean humor being removed.
The "To be or not to be" soliloquy was forgettable, again marred by unbalanced and unbelievable delivery. The nunnery scene began with Hamlet spying the fair Ophelia from across the stage. The lights dipped, the music came up, and suddenly the two of them met at center stage for a quick dance, likely intended as a flashback to happier days. For this audience member, it was a flashback to a previous Hamlet. I knew that I had seen that before--at UB. (See 3/14/18 post.) Coincidence? No. As it turns out, the two productions share a director. Learning that fact from the UB playbill answered many questions about this production. The remainder of the nunnery scene was tolerable. It was interesting, though, that the letters that Ophelia was returning to Hamlet were already ripped and crumpled. Perhaps there had been an earlier lovers' quarrel?
On to "The Mousetrap" scene. How does one remedy a troupe consisting of only two actors? Put Rosencrantz into the play doing a dramatic reading for the part of the queen. Oh boy. There may have been a dumb show. I'm not sure. The trio did run out on stage to do something, but I couldn't tell what it was. Maybe that's how Claudius missed it; he blinked. My problem was the blocking. Granted, a performance in the round requires special directorial effort. It also requires understanding on the part of audience members that they will see faces only about 25% of the time. For "The Mousetrap," I was unable to see any faces. Polonius was directly in front of me (midway up the first base line), obscuring the actors in my sight line. Claudius was in profile, everyone else was back to me or blocked entirely. This problem completely destroyed any interest in the scene. It is hard to relate to a character when all you see is the back of his head. I did enjoy the reaction of the players at the abrupt end of the play. Fearing for their lives, they fled quickly from the castle. It is an open question from Shakespeare's original and a good directorial interpretation. The first act ended at the witching time of night.
The second act provided more of the same. Polonius was stabbed and managed to walk across stage to die in a sitting position in a chair. The ghost appeared and enjoyed another hug with Hamlet, although the former was invisible (and incorporeal) to Gertrude. As Hamlet headed to England, he delivered the "How all occasions" soliloquy. Why? Why? Why? As with the UB production, there was no context for this with all references to Fortinbras having been omitted. It became just one more speech, delivered badly. As Horatio read aloud his letter from Hamlet, Hamlet stood at center stage shadow-fencing. Why? Why not? Ophelia's madness scene was well done, at least for the second half, with artificial plants and genuine emotion.
The graveyard scene used only one gravedigger, so the humorous conversation about the nature of Christian burial was gone. He merely sang (?) while removing skulls from a cot (?) and setting them up at home plate (?). Hamlet's interaction with the digger was shortened and also devoid of humor. The "Alas Poor Yorick" speech came without suitable introduction, and the discussion continued to Alexander but stopped before bungholes. The funeral consisted of Laertes and Hamlet fighting over Ophelia, who lied on a cot.
The downward slide continued. Osric was entirely unnecessary. He came with no hat, so that portion of the dialogue was out. He seemed to be portrayed as menacing, not foppish, but he had not nearly enough lines to substantiate that characterization. The fight was very well choreographed, with real swords and an actual fight. It was suitably violent. For as well done as the duel was, though, the resolution was unsatisfying. Hamlet and Laertes both were poisoned as the unbated and envenomed sword somehow cut them through safety gloves and without visible blood. Gertrude died and ended up on the furniture pile at second base. Claudius was sliced on both calves, was made to drink from the poisoned chalice, and ended up supine atop the same furniture pile. Laertes died on the ground between third and home. Hamlet made it back to first base, emoted some more, declared that the rest was silence (Thank God!), and died atop that furniture pile. Three hours (less a fifteen-minute intermission) after it had begun, we called it a day.
I had high hopes for this performance. In the win column were the theatre environment and the choreography of the duel. In the loss column was the acting, which, excepting Hamlet's chronic histrionics, was generally boring. Some directorial decisions worked while others fell flat. When all was over, this was simply a more stylish rehash of the director's previous effort at UB and one that showed many of the same issues as its predecessor. No home run, it was nearly a strikeout.
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