Finding myself by chance* in the U.K., I decided I would make my way to Stratford-upon-Avon and, after seeing the biographical Shakespeare sites, take in the latest Royal Shakespeare Company Production.
The plot is set on board a ship—not that it's fully realized. We're not told that we're on board the Good Ship Elsinore on route from anywhere to anywhere else. Instead, the setting becomes a metaphor for the Ship of State of Denmark floundering and eventually sinking.
Making this more powerful, the entire elongated rectangle of the stage is on hydraulics, enabling it to tilt up to a pretty astonishing forty-five degrees (at a rough estimate).
Moreover, the stage was generally pretty bare, with two larger hatches surrounded by guardrails at the front and back of the deck of the ship. These led to steep stairway exits and entrances. An image take from by seat before the performance began will illustrate this:
In addition to the two large hatches, there were a number of small square hatches through which actors could enter and exit. These were largely used between scenes by those clearing the stage and setting up something new—or just by those scurrying about in a panic as the ship gets closer to sinking.
The back of the performance space was a screen that often had projected images of a stormy sea (as in the opening image of this post) or portholes (for interior scenes) or vast machinery (for really interior scenes).
All of that made for an absolutely stunning visual experience.
[Spoilers follow.]
But the danger with such a set is that it can become gimmicky. Too much relies upon the staging, and that can make the performances—or the interpretation of the play—take a back seat.
That's almost the case here—but only almost. The actors are tremendous in their roles, but their choices are very nearly superseded by the set.
I'm going to wrap this up quickly by listing some of the most memorable choices the production made so I can post this before the show closes.
Luke Thallon's Hamlet
This Hamlet is genuinely insane most of the time. There are many reasons I'd like to re-watch it, and one of them is to see if he ever says anything about putting on an antic disposition. I don't think he did, but my memory may be unreliable (especially when jet lag and a series of trains from Liverpool are part of the equation). Whether that's there or not, there are many times when he genuinely loses control (I'll mention one a bit later). At other times, he becomes conversational with the audience, genuinely asking us to respond to his question "Am I a coward?" It was very effective.
Nia Towle's Ophelia
This Ophelia is stronger than most. During the play-within-the-play scene, she gives back to Hamlet better than she gets. And when this Polonius treats her like a little girl—still playing the dad games he did when she was six—she is offended.
Burials at Sea
The play opens with Hamlet's father's funeral; his corpse is buried at sea over the back of the stage with military rituals. Then Claudius exits through the downstage set of stairs. At that point, Hamlet is very near the audience with his back to us. The look Claudius give him as he exits was chilling.
Ophelia, too, is buried at sea. I suppose that's one way of dealing with the question of whether she should be buried in "ground unsanctified."
Double-Casting: The Ghost and the First Player
This might have been nothing more than a practical choice, but this Hamlet does more with it. When the First Player shows up, Hamlet loses his mind completely. He thinks he sees his father. Hamlet recovers relatively quickly, but the resonance of that remains.
This might have been nothing more than a practical choice, but this Hamlet does more with it. When the First Player shows up, Hamlet loses his mind completely. He thinks he sees his father. Hamlet recovers relatively quickly, but the resonance of that remains.
Gravedigger Scene
When everyone's buried at sea, you don't really need a gravedigger, and you also have some trouble rationalizing the appearance of a skull from many years ago. Here, the First Player is clearing out some theatrical properties—tossing them overboard. And that motivates the scene.
The Willow Speech
Hamlet is rife with images of water and nautical expressions ("About, my brain" springs to mind), and (another spoiler here) Ophelia drowns. But there are no willows or brooks aboard. Again, I wish I could go back to see it again for the details (I can't remember the exact chronology), but Gertrude is, very interestingly, given a modified version of Clarence's speech about dreaming of drowning from Richard III. It's certainly relevant, and it gives insight into Ophelia's possible state of mind as she drowns.
How the Dead Exit
In the final scene, the stage was titled to its full extent; this allowed the corpses to roll off the front of the and (presumably) walk away from there. I don't have much more to say about that, but it's a convenient way to clear an already-sparse stage from the corpses that would otherwise litter it.
The Ghost Who Isn't
In the text of Hamlet, the ghost re-appears in Act III, scene iv (after Polonius' death and a lot of confrontation in the closet). In this production, he doesn't. Hamlet response to the lines the ghost would have spoken, but he delivers those lines into a mirror. It's an interesting choice that adds to our understanding of just how insane this Hamlet is.
There's a lot more to be said about this production, but I do want to let people know about it before it closes. And, should you find yourself in the U.K., go see it—and report back on the places where my own memory is unreliable.
You can also watch a trailer for the production here!
Links: The Show at the RSC.
*It was actually thanks to a generous grant from the Faculty Development Committee at the University of Northwestern—St. Paul for a project in which another faculty member and I were able to take three students double-majoring in English and Theatre to Liverpool to work on performing Shakespeare—both individually and with the students of Liverpool Hope University.
Links: The Show at the RSC.
