Adrian Lester, 2002, 2¼ hrs. (filmed stage performance, dir. Peter Brook)
What kind of Hamlet?
Dreadlocked: it finally occurred to someone that Hamlet doesn't have to be white. The entire production is refreshingly multiethnic: largely Indian with touches of Japan and Trinidad.
What's missing?
It's a magnificently minimalist production, in terms of set (essentially one spare set, red and saffron), cast (thirteen altogether: no Norwegians, few courtiers, only two players, Claudius and his dead brother played by the same actor, Laertes and Guildenstern similarly doubled up, and likewise Polonius and the Gravedigger; Horatio is only Horatio, but he's nudged into the action at least a couple of times when courtiers are called for), and text.
No opening Ghost scene; instead, we begin with "Oh, that this too too [see below]," followed by the arrival of Horatio, who is the only one to have seen the Ghost--who shows up on cue, Hor politely withdrawing but returning after Ham has had a chance to digest the vision. Ham has no sword, so he (as well as the Ghost) just demands a nonspecific "Swear"--and he doesn't mention his faux madness plan. Finally, the first cut follows the "time is out of joint" speech. Then after that cut, we jump backward to the I.2 imposition of Claudius's and Gertrude's wills on Ham.
Laertes doesn't appear until Polonius is dead, so we don't have the leave-taking scene, nor Pol's insistence that Ophelia break it off w/ Ham--only the subsequent scene where she reports on Ham's odd visit to her and that she has fulfilled Pol's command.
Few cuts as dramatic after that--though Ham doesn't ask the Player King about inserting a dozen or sixteen lines, and O's first mad scene is essentially a solo, Gert and Claud observing part but not interacting.
I wonder whether someone unfamiliar with the play would be completely lost. There's a lot of telegraphy going on.
What's changed?
In addition to what I've already mentioned, Ham asks the First Player for the Priam-Hecuba speech in Greek, and that's how the Player delivers it. But by far the biggest change is the placement of the "To be" soliloquy, which occurs after Polonius is dead and Claudius has declared that Hamlet must to England. Most of Brook's risks pay off, but I'm not so sure about this one: once Ham has actually drawn blood--half-thinking at the time that it's Claud he's killed--why would he still be wondering whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them? By that time, the answer is pretty clear; as the first-season theme song of Slings and Arrows has it: "By the way you sulky brat, the answer is 'To be.'"
Some lines are shifted from Ophelia's first mad scene to the second: after running from offstage to blindside Laertes, knocking him down, she bemoans the laying of Pol in the cold ground, then says, "My brother shall know of it"--to Laertes. The effect is chilling.
There's no mention of Yorick--except for the opera, that's unique in my Hamlet experience so far. The duel finale is cut to the bone (as it were), as well: no one picks up Fortinbras's lines, no one announces R&G's deaths, and Hor doesn't even get to bid his sweet prince good-night; just as we opened on a close-up of Ham, we end with him slumping to the ground, then assuming a beatific smile before "The rest is silence"--then close-up freeze-frame.
What's odd?
Lots, much of it in blocking, most of it wonderful. Lester's Ham dribbles a big old nasty blob of drool at the first "except my life," pretty much chasing Pol away w/ a convincing simulation of possibly dangerous and certainly unhygienic madness.
The "swords" seem to be bamboo sticks. Ham first picks one up from the stage before going to Gert's closet, but I'm damned if I know where it came from: thought it must have been a prop for the play, but I looked at that sequence again and didn't see it. In the closet scene the Ghost all but embraces Gert while causing her to think her son mad. Another really effective bit in that scene is that, in contrast to the typical use of miniatures for the portraits of the brothers, Ham directs Gert's attention to adjacent portraits on the wall, invisible to us. That has the effect of raising the actors faces and allows them more play of expression. (And of course since both characters are played by the same actor, Ham's contrast of their faces might have been tough to make convincing if we could see the portraits.) Yet another nice bit in that scene: Ham grabs Gert's fingers and places them on his wrist, at the same time putting the fingers of his other hand on her other wrist, at "My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time." Finally, he cheerfully puppets Pol as he prepares to drag him out. Then when he takes his leave of Claud in the following scene, he curtsies at "so, Mother."
And as good as that sequence is, the churchyard scene is downright amazing. First, the grave is represented by several pillows and cushions leans against one another like a child's living room fort. The procession is led by Laertes and the Priest, the latter carrying the body--except the "body" is O's empty dress, a wonderful effect. The "grave" is only big enough for one, but w/ O represented by a garment, L can still jump in--and then the protesting Ham knocks the cushions every which way. Everyone leaves but Ham and Hor before "dog will have his day," after which the two gently spread a nondescript gray blanket over O's body. Then, still graveside, Ham tells Hor of the death-warrant switch, representing each of the courtiers with a skull, upending each with a karate chop at "those bearers put to sudden death."
The final duel takes only a couple minutes, each of the first two hits coming almost instantaneously. Laertes has been obviously moved by Ham's apology, by the way, and he seems in good humor during the duel, but then stabs Ham in the back as he stands with his fatally carousing mother; after fingering the blameworthy King, he doesn't propose mutual absolution to Ham. Finally, Claud stands up straight and takes his stabbing (no forced drink) with fatalism bordering on defiance.
Flesh?
Too too . . . sullied! At last! (And, as mentioned, the opening line of the production.)
Ghost?
Of solid, sin-sullied flesh.
Ham-Gert eros?
Nada.
Other people?
As noted, scarcely any.
This is hellbent for leather, and 95% of the time it works brilliantly--at least for someone who realizes what has been elided. Five falling sparrows.
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