And such small portions!

Who, when, how long?
William Houston, 2003, 2 hrs. In fact, only 1:54, not, thankfully, the 3:40 reported by Netflix. I see that IMDb shows it as 220 minutes as well, which makes me wonder whether much of what is wrong with this is down to hamhanded editing. More than in any other version I've seen, the cuts seem calculated to deprive the play of sense. On balance, though, I'm inclined to think that the best thing about it is its brevity.

What sort of Hamlet?
Sort of Dana Carvey-esque. Houston can't help the physical resemblance, I suppose, but he acts w/ a sort of self-conscious sneer that encourages the perception that he's actually impersonating Hamlet rather than playing him.

What's missing?
Every second or third line, it seems. No act I, scene 1, though they sneak some of the Ghost's first appearance in when Horatio is telling Hamlet about it. Polonius doesn't set Reynaldo to spy on Laertes, and in the Laertes-Ophelia dialogue in "a room" (per the stage direction), specifically his bedroom (largely spent bouncing on his bed), he gives only the first part of his warning against Ham, without ever getting to the nitty gritty about her chaste treasure. As a result, her riposte that neither should he go whoring about seems a non-sequitur. Polonius's farewell speech to Laertes consists of the six lines starting "Neither a borrower nor a lender," so the whole notion of a long-winded lecture is lost. And the continuation of the scene w/ Pol and O is cut one line after "green girl," so he doesn't get to drone portentously to her either. For this Pol, brevity is the soul of his seeming somewhat less half-witted.

Ham's first scene w/ Rosencrantz and Guildenstern is here (though not their previous meeting w/ Claudius and Gertrude), but omitted is his key admission to them that in fact he knows a hawk from a handsaw.

The Norway/Fortinbras subplot is missing from the start and the end, making bizarre and inexplicable the inclusion of the IV.4 scene of Fortinbras's troops marching toward Poland. Even more bizarre is that the dialogue between the Norwegian captain and Ham is left out--the one that establishes the war-is-much-ado-about-nothing theme of Ham's soliloquy at the end of the scene--but then he delivers the soliloquy anyway (well, some of it). And so on and so forth. It's the worst of both the Olivier and the Russkies--lopping off chunks and also trimming at the margins, but without a real sense of the essence of the play and so mangling all the while.

What is changed?
As is the case with several versions, "To be" is moved. In this case, it's part of a lengthy outdoors sequence (a rare outdoors sequence that actually has anything to do w/ the play--but see below about other outdoors stuff), beginning with the II.2 "words, words, words" exchange w/ Polonius. Most of that text is retained, but when Pol leaves, we go straight to "To be," which is delivered, static, from a river bluff, the suggestion of a suicidal leap standing in for a bare-bodkin quietus-making (which lines, now that I think of it, may have been omitted). Then most of the meeting w/ R&G (which in the play immediately follows the exchange w/ Pol) and then the introduction of the Players, though Ham scarcely speaks a word to them, instead drifting into the "rogue and petty slave" soliloquy as an interior monologue while the First Player is reciting the Priam-Hecuba speech--probably the most intelligent of the innovations in the production. Then finally inside for the exchange w/ O while Pol & Claud eavesdrop--so in fact, the "To be" soliloquy is the only text out of order in this long stretch.

As I've mentioned, some of the Ghost's first appearance gets sneaked in elsewhere, and the same is done w/ O's first mad scene, which is missing altogether in sequence. Instead, she appears mad for the first time after Laertes' riotous supporters have battering-rammed in Claud's door. She kisses her brother long and hard on the mouth, continuing the milder, saner eros of their leavetaking scene. Only when Gert tells L of his sister's death do we get a few seconds, including one "Good night, ladies," of the first mad scene, when she seems much less mad.

Perhaps the most idiotic change comes as Ham and L duel--not with rapier and dagger but with wide-bladed sword and buckler. Chicken or egg: did they change blades because of the rewritten line, or did they rewrite the line because this was the only blade the props department could supply? And if the former, did they rewrite the line because they didn't trust the audience to know what a fencing foil is? Whatever, the dialogue that is supposed to go

Ham: Give us the foils. Come on.
Laer: Come, one for me.
Ham: I'll be your foil, Laertes.

becomes instead

Ham: Give us the swords. Come on.
Laer: Come, one for me.
Ham: I'll be your sword, Laertes.

and thus is hacked to bits one of the best puns of the play. Who are these people?

What's odd?
A couple of pretty good things. In I.2, e.g., Hamlet enters as Laertes is leaving, thus naturally prompting Claud's address to/about him. And when Ham makes his rhyming joke about foolish, prating knave Pol, he laughs a bit and so does Gert, though her laughter is clearly uncomfortable, as if to humor Ham.

But most of what's odd (and what I haven't already described) is just odd. The film begins with a medieval street scene of buskers and fire eaters and whatnot, and we get several more street scenes with nothing to do with anything, simply planted, I guess, to remind us that this was a very different world from ours. The effect is unintentionally Pythonesque.

Ham repeatedly and maniacally stabs the unknown rat behind the arras, and even his hopeful reading of "Is it the king?" can't make sense of that, given that we've just seen why he can't kill the presumptively shriven king just yet. Osric's accent is indefinably odd. The second hit of the duel comes after L has fallen on his back, yet he's still defiant rather than sarcastic with his "a touch, I do confess it."

But my favorite silliness is in the scene where the pirates deliver Ham's letter to Hor. One of the pirates wears, yes, an eyepatch.

Flesh?
Cut. But . . . Hamlet jumps into O's grave, albeit not while L is in it, a the variant stage direction would have it. Though I must say it is a capacious grave that would seem suited to hold two standing men and a recumbent woman at once.

Ghost?
As if seen through night-vision goggles. And his mouth doesn't move when he talks.

Ham-Gert eros?
No, though he kind of roughs her up on her bed. But their lack of lust is balanced by the incestuous impulses of Polonius's children.

Other people?
Hellishly bland.

Every other Hamlet I've watched, even the bad opera, has at least been interesting, has at least repaid its two or three or four hours with some unique coloring of my sense of the play. But this one--which, I should also mention before I close, features muddy camerawork and muddier sound, which gets work as the film progresses--was pretty much a wast of time (though again, blessedly only about half the time expected). Two foils, unbated and envenomed.