Spotlight: Revisiting the ‘National Theatre Live’ Production of ‘Hamlet’

National Theatre Live: Hamlet (2015)

Rating: PG-13

A dazzling 4.5 out of 5 stars

(Apologies for the mini hiatus, and also for the lack of imagery to aid you’re impression; but business and life, as usual, eh?. Now, on with the piece)

3 hours and 37 minutes; 31,000 words; part of a 50+ arsenal of dramatic adaptions; 420 years old; all of these different elements come together to describe the compelling soundness of the renowned work, Hamlet. (To keep us on the rails for the entirety of this review, let’s remember that this is a look at a specific rendition of this play). To be specific, this is a special rerelease of the National Theatre Live production of Hamlet (2015). Directed by Robin Lough, this stage play is exceedingly beautiful in more ways the just one, being my first (real) exposure to this story, I’m eager to begin discussing this film to the finest, and most thorough, of my abilities. Let’s begin.

I trust that the majority of people on this earth know of the literal (and medium varied and vital) significance of this work from the great William Shakespeare. But a small refresher, for those whose recollections are a bit “rusty” on the narrative at hand.

Queen Gertrude of Elsinore (Anastasia Hille) glumly overlooks a chest of forgotten keepsakes. Credit Johan Persson

The recent, untimely death of the respectable sovereign of the land, King Hamlet, has wounded the many subjects of the kingdom of Elsinore. But none so much as young Prince Hamlet (played by Benedict Cumberbatch in this rendition), son of the late king and heir to throne. Wallowing in grief and confusion, the only object in sight to be sure of is the sin of his mother, Queen Gertrude (Anastasia Hille). Not even a month after her husband’s passing did she take a new spouse to govern alongside her; older Hamlet’s brother, and now king, Claudius (Ciarán Hinds). The young prince, suspended in disbelief, cannot, and will not, forgive his mother’s seemingly heartless resolution to move on just as quickly as change and knocked at her door.

But in the late nights of this tragedy, eerie rumors also begin to creep subtly to the ears of our protagonist [Hamlet] of a spirit that visits the nearby grounds of the castle in silence, only to depart with the rising sun; and the ghost resembles none other than his father, the king. With this precious ray light shining through a scape of uncertain darkness, Hamlet decides the only to do in the situation is to stake out and attempt speech with the apparition himself. Later, upon doing so, the revenant appears to him. Miserable in his appearance, his father begins to illuminate and lament the pains of death (supposedly in purgatory, among other things), and that, rather than dying in his sleep, was he murdered by his own brother, Claudius, in traitorous strides for his sovereign throne. The spirit of his father then began to instruct Hamlet to bring vengeance upon his king uncle; to redress the vast offense committed, and set things right. So [Hamlet] goes off to execute the wishes of his dear departed father with devotion, and enraged fury to aid his mad quest for revenge. "The Tragedy of Hamlet" has entertained, astonished, and bemused audiences for hundreds of years, as its remarkable writing, strong integration of stage design, and array of different messages have been forever open to what we are all familiar with, and must keep in the grounds of actuality… personal interpretation. And, in small supply as my words may be (not), I, for one, will attempt to honorably convey my thoughts and impressions, in addition to unraveling part this tale, at least.

The traitorous, scheming mind of Claudius (Ciáran Hinds) rings throughout the rooftops in this powerful shot. Credit: Johan Persson.

I never grow weary of these intimate capsules of art and time that have made their way to us now. In productions like these, you are able to get a sense of, not only what the writer was like, his processing of thought, but, how the wars, politics, and rulers of their time affected the craft in which they were so invested. You get a glimpse of the immense and beautiful vocabulary of that time, which, illiterate as many were, was the dialect which was taught (I've been researching to see exactly how many words we have lost in the English language since the 1600s. No luck. Stay tuned…). And unlike many of the other works I’ve experienced (even those from, say, 200 years ago), I really had to pay attention to the distinct, and sometimes labyrinthine, verse given on screen, and found myself slightly lost on any higher levels of comprehension if even my mind strayed for a second. You, the viewer, must multi-task to some degree as you listen to this intricate and archaic speech, watch the characters' physical and emotional delivery of the dancing words, the surroundings in which the characters thrive, observing the many other aspects of lighting, sound, and more. All of these things come into play when the emphasis of multiple aspects culminates for the purpose of, simply, telling a great story.

This ties in nicely with the exemplary performances given by the cast, who were skillfully selected by [casting director] Julia Horan. Leading this great array of talents is the ever impressive Benedict Cumberbatch (Sherlock, Doctor Strange, The Imitation Game) in character as our Danish prince of madness. Whatever project [Cumberbatch] commits to, he is all in, whether his gifts are lent to a wizard of time and space, a magnificent and terrible dragon, or even Frankenstein’s confused monster. His fulfillment of the great literary character was extraordinary, granting the audience with a vast range of emotions, summoning tears, laughs, and powerful outbursts of rage and sorrow, amongst a sea of contemplations that have forever served the audience with boundless intellectual nourishment. Though Cumberbatch’s attitude towards Hamlet as a play, his approach to the mental state of his character, is not only intellectual; it is necessary anthropology. (All very probable speculation) Over the centuries of this play’s existence (who knows how), many have taken a crack at making Hamlet something traditional, but new in same way; contributing their unique take on the Dane Prince of Elsinore, in the hopes of positively, and memorably, adding upon the legacy of Shakespeare’s “greatest work”. (I'm not an actor myself, but from what I do know) Acting, being a fine, mentally and physically demanding art, is also made up of deep emotional and critical understandings of the mind; great actors are the ones who understand this, and bring this in mind to their characters (giving them a seamless appearance between the fiction and reality of their being). Even more than its joys, humanity’s fears and worries are a large part of what connects us to characters, as well as each other; empathy is how we relate.

Prince Hamlet (Benedict Cumberbatch) humorously ponders the difficulties of his existence. Credit: Johan Persson.

Summing it up fittingly, I'll refer to an interview Selena Davies, with The Telegraph, conducted with Benedict Cumberbatch in 2016; one line I thought perfectly outlined one of the reason's for my loving Cumberbatch (in virtually any role), as well as many of the filmmakers, comedians, artists, and musicians I admire and respect today, is this:

“It seems to me Cumberbatch retains a child-like joy in his acting work, even as he tries to square his fame with his social conscience. Even when he’s treated like royalty, he’s still a kid in the playground, where acting can be a complete release ‘just pure imagination. Fantasy and letting rip and just not holding back’, as he calls it. Let’s hope he can keep feeling that way."

Let’s hope for that indeed (Great job on the article by the way. Very concise. Go check her stuff out).

Now for the rest of the ensemble to receive some compliments for a change. I thought that Kobna Holdbrook-Smith, in the role of Laertes (enraged son of royal counselor Polonius, and brother to fair Ophelia), was particularly great. His demeanor was very passionate and engaging, and nicely enforced Laertes’ strong placing within the story (his familiar face also turns up in “recent” films, such as, Mary Poppins Returns and Paddington 2. I'll be on the alert for his work).

Laertes (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith) rages in a confusion of the times. Credit: Johan Persson

Now, the persona of Claudius must resemble greed, lust, and hate; the very wickedness that wreaks havoc on the peaceful house of Elsinore. Ciáran Hinds' (Game of Thrones, There Will Be Blood, The Woman in Black) despicable appearance greatly furnishes the life full of jealousy and scheme behind the dim eyes of his filthy scowl. Cowardly is [Claudius’] nature when a true fight approaches his sly steps, and loyal is Hinds answer when called to be contemptible in that way. He carries a great voice with his performance, and is one of the more experienced actors (if I do say so. Better?...I don't know).

Others that my keen attention in this story were Leo Bill(Alice in Wonderland, 28 Days Later, Becoming Jane) as Hamlet’s steadfast friend, Horatio, Karl Johnson The Illusionist, Hot Fuzz) as the sorrowful ghost of King Hamlet, and Anastasia Hille (Snow White and the Huntsman, A United Kingdom), as ambiguous monarch and mother, Queen Gertrude. Sian Brooke’s role of Ophelia was persuasive in her innocence, but when the potency really kicked in was when "blah blah blah” happened ( might as well keep my discretion, being this far), which then drove her to tragic hysteria and insanity (I guess I just broke it?). As she rapidly, rapidly sang her nonsense melodies of death and betrayal, I felt as though she really immersed the audience in her state madness as she wandered in her many tears and songs (there is actually a movie that came out a earlier this year, rightfully named Ophelia, that, in the only instance I’ve caught wind of, portrays Ophelia, played by Daisy Ridley, on the main stage of the classic story. It would be very interesting to see what, and how, they determined writing from this different perspective for a change. Follow up…).

Hopefully I’m not rhapsodizing this work to excessive ends, but I honestly found very little fault within this portrayal of the classic tragedy. And as far as uncovering any new or concealed meanings underlying the many soliloquies, I don’t have anything new to offer to the ear, to those versed , or not, in this play. Though maybe I can provide some of the plays parallels, pertaining to the surrounding world, post-Shakespeare era.

A shot portraying the sweet and curious nature of maiden, Ophelia (Sian Brooke). Credit: Johan Persson.

I’m not very familiar with the state of England as a whole (circa 1600), but I’ve read that William Shakespeare possibly, for the setting for his story, went back into time to the earlier ages of Europe, to a fictional city, Elsinore, and in Denmark, no less, to tell a story of royal betrayal and revenge. Supposedly this was a creative means to avoid bringing about the fearsome indignation of England’s regal family with a more direct depiction of all things crooked. In the play itself, the politics of the Danes rise up throughout the story, with talk of set monarchical elections of rulers, rather than being linked to corrupt heirs and nepotism, and brief mentions are mad of candidates appointed their own successors, in the case sudden misfortune were to arise (whether this was actual practice beats me. But pretty advanced ideology, right?).

( SPOILERS! in this particular paragraph. Alas, I tried )

And (second) lastly, the original name of this play, “The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark”, was more than appropriate considering what all transpires (nothing new there). But at the end when Gertrude’s death by indirected poison leads to Claudius’ inevitable slaughter, which then leaves dueling Hamlet and Laertes to each inflict the other with fatal blows, Fortinbras, crown prince of Norway, comes upon the castle of Elsinore expecting resistance and friction, due to (let’s say) a shaky history between families and countries. But as [Fortinbras] approaches the scene of death (of practically every vital character), he is shocked by the massacre that lay before him and his men,. And as good Horatio clues them in on the tragic account of events that had only just concluded with their arrival, Fortinbras decides to honor the memory of Hamlet among the “good” people in that story, as he also lays claim to the Danish throne with [Hamlet’s] dying sanction and approval.

Upon a deeper look at the epilogue, a small tone of redemption does occur, with tributes and a (seemingly) hopeful future for the city. But initially I perceived this end as a trope, portraying the eternal conflict of man (stimulated in this particular narrative mainly by power, revenge, and greed), even in the finest of lifestyles, where some, to many, believe high life is the solution to any a problem. Basically the fact conveyed is that there has been strife and war before you were alive, and that there will continue to be strife and war after you pass (very sadly, I confess). And in light of the inevitable discord you will experience in life, look on brighter side of things, and make the most of your time, imparting kindness and goodwill wherever you go. Admittedly, it is stretch to assume this, and its’s beginning to sound a bit like The Care Bears, but it is good and true bit of (maybe unsolicited) advice. With the being a literal “tragedy”, some may want it to stay just a moral devastation, but I see a wee bit of light towards the end of the tunnel, and, ideally, I always love to circle back to hope. But I won’t stress, nor repudiate the matter any further than necessary.

The beautiful setting of our story, in one shade of its interchanging, and at the time stationary, design. Credit: Johan Persson.

(Getting a bit lengthy now, but) One last thing I would like to touch on is the fantastic production design showcased in this live performance. I have always been fascinated with the ways in which the set designer collaborates with the rest of production to create worlds and settings that aid in our suspended disbelief of the stories transpiring before our very eyes. And this is exactly one of the large difficulties in intricate, moving stage design. In theatre, you always have the sea of spectators witnessing the events in real time; all number of eyes aimed at different objects and people, which then forces many things to be stationary (unlike the ease of film, where multiple shots of variety can be stitched together to deliver a finished work). So (detracting in no manner) instead of mobile sets, and backgrounds of the like, our story takes place in one room. First, it seems a bedroom; then a ballroom with a finely set dinner; a common area; on and on it morphs. Through masterful lighting, and placement of props, true boundaries can be discerned between scenes ( even of those that take place outdoors ), with a single piano, toy castle, or campfire. And the moods that are created for each scene are greatly enhanced with the expert camera work, as our window to the one-of-a-kind atmosphere of live theatre; among the varied climates created, are some that are truly phenomenal, leaving the audience with no choice but to spectate with fervor as tempestuous affairs are surely upheld with pounding music and strange, eerie sounds that chills one to the very bone.

(Though this was filmed about 4 years ago) I believe Robin Lough’s interpretation of Shakespeare’s Hamlet (in closing, fabulous work Lough. You’ve done well) has aged well, joining the ranks of the many who have attempted to embody the ardent and despairing soul of Prince Hamlet, and succeeded tremendously in that respect. And referring back to something I mentioned earlier, Lough and his crew triumphed in making something old new again, giving the younger characters of more wit and versatility modern clothing (jeans, jackets, sneakers, etc.) to match their casual, and potent youth, which I absolutely loved. It gave the production a nice, fresh feel amidst the loyal and “traditional” execution. This is one of those universal stories that can, and will, forever be worthy of upcoming aesthetics and performances that seek to break new ground. Though I have yet to watch any preceding productions or films based on this this grand tale, I depart with great excitement and anticipation in my first official introduction (except for maybe Simba), of many more to come, to Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

And if you liked Hamlet, you might like:

Credit: Royal National Theater

National Theatre Live’s, Frankenstein (2011)

Produced by the same organization we’ve been dealing with for the last 10 minutes in this review, Benedict Cumberbatch returns to the stage with a magnificent, performance as Frankenstein’s Monster. Interchanging roles with Cumberbatch while the show was still on, Jonny Lee Miller plays the maybe not so mad, Doctor FrankensteinIt is a deeply empathetic portrayal of the risen creature creation, infantile in all of his knowledge, in a truly stunning production filled with countless, beautiful sets that just make the story all the better. I definitely recommend this live filming of Mary Shelley’s classic horror. If you thought Hamlet was/sounded intriguing, you’ll find more simply-worded, but no less superb story, directed by Danny Boyle (Yesterday, Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire) from the Royal National Theatre, in London. And while you’re at it, go check out the new [CG] animal-led remake of The Lion King from Disney. One of the other great Hamlet renditions, of a sort…