My favourite productions of Shakespeare have always been the ones in smaller theatres where you're sitting so close to the actors that they can cut the sound and fury necessary to fill a big venue and instead bring subtlety and nuance to the extraordinary text. With the right actors this can turn the densest Elizabethan verse into a gripping psychological thriller.HAMLET at the Almeida Theatre is one such production. Every corner of it has so clearly been considered and understood by cast and director that this constantly performed tragedy feels more like a piece of new writing and phrases zing out at you as if you've never heard them before.
Despite its 4 hour length I'd recommend it for someone looking for a first experience of Shakespeare. Except, it's completely sold out so you'll have to take my word for it.
If you do manage to score a ticket you'll find the stage is simply arranged with sliding glass doors leading on to a windowed corridor that looks out on a terrace area, initially dressed for a wedding, which can be obscured by white curtains. To one side of the stage is a chic looking modern corner sofa, to the other there's a computer table.
Hanging above the stage are plasma screens which show public events as if they might be broadcast on a Danish rolling news channel and the evening begins with bulletins about the death of Hamlet's father. When the action starts it's the night of the recently widowed Queen Gertrude's marriage to her former brother in law, Claudius.
Her son, tortured by the death and incensed by the haste of the marriage, encounters his father's ghost who reveals he was murdered by the new king and that the already mentally unstable Hamlet must take revenge.
But Hamlet is a very different from your sword wielding, action man, avenger. He's a cultured young man of intellect and thought given to deliberation and philosophy consideration. His behaviour grows increasingly erratic, he stages a play about murder to see if his uncle looks guilty as he watches - he does - and stabs a trusted minister whose daughter, Ophelia, he may or may not be in love with.
Following her insanity and death her brother returns and colludes with the king to poison Hamlet. By the end the stage is strewn with corpses. Along the way we get some of the most celebrated drama of all time, largely centred around soliloquies in which our hero wrestles with indecision. Something every human being can relate to.
The fascinating thing about this piece is the it can be interpreted in a number of different ways especially the central character. Over the years I've seen Hamlets who've imagined the ghost, Hamlets who've been systematic in their pursuit of their enemies, paranoid Hamlets, ambitious Hamlets, manic Hamlets, fat Hamlets, athletic Hamlets and every level of insanity.
The major draw here is to see Andrew Scott as the great Dane. I've loved him ever since I interviewed him about his performance in Aristocrats at the National Theatre about 15 years ago. Since then his dangerous charisma has won him a considerable cult following especially since his performance as the charmingly psychotic Moriarty in the latest TV reboot of Sherlock Holmes. His Hamlet is a similarly twitchy, man-child amazed and appalled at the chaos around him.
Sitting as close to him as this production allows, you can see his every fibre seems charged with electricity. To look into his eyes is to look Hamlet in the face and unsurprisingly his strength is that whether he's carefully deliberating or spitting contempt he invites you into his thought process and takes you on the journey with him.
He's surrounded by a terrific cast especially Juliet Stephenson as his mother who expertly conveys the descent from confident society hostess to the slow and horrific realisation that she and her son are doomed. Angus Wright is her uptight new husband given to explosions of sexual passion interspersed with the careful measured tones of an expert politician. David Rintoul plays a range of roles with considerable gravitas including a ghost steeped in misery and foreboding who we first see, in this modern setting, approaching on security cctv screens.
Surveillance is a constant theme in director Robert Ickes elegant, persuasive vision of the play. In public there is constantly a camera trained on the royal family, pictures from which appear on screens around us. This is especially effective during the play Hamlet organises when the usurpers look of unease is captured in close up. In private Hamlet is often the subject of electronic eavesdropping as First Minister Polonius employs various spyware technology to listen in on him. This is another fascinating performance, from Peter Wight, who manages to capture both the affability and the edge of this sly, ambitious servant of the state and his family's interests.
The four hours pass very swiftly particularly when a 2nd interval just before the final 30 minutes allows you, refreshed, to really focus on the last scenes which in other productions can become a blur at the end of a long evening.
This is definitely one of the best Hamlets I've ever seen. Right up there with Mark Rylance and Kenneth Branagh. It's well worth queuing for return tickets.
After her third tour in Afghanistan, where an explosion has left her with severe burns and scars across her body, Jess (Kate Fleetwood) has returned home to Florida. Home is somewhat different than she remembered; and in order to cope with her PTSD and delusions of combat, she undertakes a new kind of therapy. This therapy is virtual reality, where she is able to create her own idea of ‘paradise.’