There is so much that is pleasing in Robert Hastie’s production that it feels churlish to deny its success as a whole. Yet there is something missing in this state of Denmark.
The intriguing cast includes Asian actor Hiran Abeysekera as the gloomy Dane, Francesca Mills as Ophelia and Tessa Wang as Horatio. Diversity is well to the fore and that is not the problem. Mills was born with achondroplasia which hasn’t stopped her from blazing a trail on stage and television. Indeed, she is one of the main reasons to see this Hamlet, so affecting is her Ophelia.
The real surprise about Hastie’s enterprise is that it is played relatively straight, with the usual cuts to bring it in at around three hours. Ben Stones’ set is a palatial hall with columns and enormous murals. It morphs into a theatre ante-room for the Players scene, complete with rows of gilded chairs for the royal audience, underscoring the idea of a play within a play. Set in a recognisable if non-specific modern era, it has a fresh look and approach that is engaging, even if some of the scenes fall flat.
Instead of stabbing a singularly sympathetic Polonius (Geoffrey Streatfeild), Hamlet shoots him and his disbelieving victim wanders on as blood leaks through his shirt. Ophelia’s mad scene is utterly convincing, for once, and Mills conveys the depths of grief with chilling conviction. Alistair Petrie plays Claudius with subtle shading, his initial bonhomie sliding away to reveal the malevolence lurking inside him; his confession speech addressed to rows of empty chairs is particularly striking.
Abeysekera is not my idea of Hamlet and gabbles the great soliloquies but he brings a restless, capricious intelligence to the role that makes the dialogue scenes pop with energy. The gravedigger’s scene and his confrontation with Polonius are both well-focused and sound freshly minted; but the bedroom scene with Gertrude (Ayesha Darker) is oddly anaemic, lacking the subtextual layers that usually accompany the confrontation.
The Players scene is beautifully structured, however, with Siobhán Redmond giving her customarily fine performance as First Player. Best of all, the concluding duel is superbly choreographed although the emotional weight of the aftermath is sorely lacking due to a couple of indistinct performances. I failed to be moved to tears as I usually am, but maybe a welterweight Hamlet is better than no Hamlet at all.
HAMLET AT THE NATIONAL THEATRE TO NOVEMBER 22