Through a glass, whimsically . . .
Non-Union production - closed
by Louis Lopard - 10/2003
Steven Brown unearthed much humor and whimsy in this too, too short a run. Mind you, this was not a satire or spoof - I genuinely felt I was seeing the actual play, albeit through interestingly colored glasses. The show opened (and closed) with the seldom heard "How all occasions do inform against us."
It was surprisingly refreshing to have a play of this length with no trace of sound design - I would bet that few in the audience even noticed once things got underway in this fast moving production. Costuming (uncredited), perfectly chosen, was at times delightful (Ros. & Guild.) practical (Hamlet & Ghost) whimsical (Marcellus) or brilliant (Polonius & Osric). An impeccable set design (uncredited), consisting of immense and ornately framed mirrors, set the tone, There was much (a little too much) talking to them, but they served as more than sounding boards. Thoughts were reflected in soliloquy, characters and their motivations were mirrored, often characters were killed merely by having their reflections stabbed. Interestingly, the large mirror in which Polonius is "killed" seems to become the character, carried about, and eventually taking its place downstage center as the focal point for the rest of the play - fittingly, since it is that murder which ignites the fuel of all the play to come.
Characters felt inexplicably compelled to demonstrate their prowess in foreign languages in many scenes. Alarming as it was at the top battlements scene (beginning in Japanese), it might have been accepted there, where Bernardo at least appeared to be Japanese. Lines in a variety of tongues (including, of all things, Danish) were translitterated (mirrored?) by others in the scene. Even Hamlet's "To be or not" had some of its lines prompted in French by a concerned Ophelia. It was amusing at times, once it became "a thing," distracting at others. (I for example began longing to hear a closet scene in which Hamlet alone spoke English.)
The nearly perfect cast, many simultaneously performing in concurrent shows, adapted well to this and other atypical aspects of the production. We had as unique a Polonius and Osric (an expanded role) as ever could be. Ben Pologe, who in other productions tended to be a bit monochromatic, here relished his role as a feared and respected power figure. This one rambled on at length because he could. Even Hamlet - making mincemeat of others - was defeated by his display of "Matrix-like" powers which rendered swords useless. And there was nothing fey about Thomas Westphal as his sidekick, a sinister and threatening Osric - who had more than a passing fancy in Ophelia. It was a convincing and consistent performance. Weird, but convincing.
Timothy Foley gave us a rather violent, boisterous Hamlet - at his best when in quarrel with others, he played well off their timing. But there was no inner journey, just vengeance all the way. Richard Brundage's Horatio was very much a scholar, mild and learned, ever a voice of reason.
Colin Ryan excelled as Laertes - here a dandy, but rough around the edges, and his sister Ophelia was no milktoast, but, thanks to Claire Evans, a real person - vibrant and willful, even eery as she subtly toyed with Hamlet's handprints on a mirror. As expected, her mad scene (often insufferable in others) was wonderful.
Barbara Drum Sullivan - (finally, a significant Queen) - played a tightly controlled Gertrude, and Bill Fairbairn did the best work I've seen from him yet, as a consistently manipulative Claudius. Seth Duerr gave us a Ghost of such aggression and spite, it was easy to see why he was burning in hellfires. This one knew he had sins to worry about.
Hamlet's verbal sparring with courtiers was mirrored by an incessant physical sparring, the deft swordplay providing opportunities for visual jokes and many a mimed death scene before the actual carnage to come. These faux deaths, however, were dramatized and comic, unlike the actual deaths in which characters simply left the stage - in disbelief (Polonius), reluctantly (Claudius)... Some observers were upset by this, stating that characters leave the stage all the time, so what's the distinction? For me, poetical as it was, it had impact: If we learn nothing else from the Bard, we learn that "All the world's a stage..." And few moments can command such terror as being ordered off life's stage.