It's hard to imagine Elsinore, Denmark, on the northeast coast of the island of Zealand (not the new, but old one), being a hotbed of incest and treachery. It looks so benign, on paper, today. Mind you, Kronborg Castle looks like it might've seen a few things. It's equally hard to imagine Danish royals as being so devious; save for the gold-digging, big-spending, ring-in Aussie princess, of recent intermarriage, perhaps. Yet ol' Bill Shakespeare had no trouble melding scraps of history with a vivid imagination to wreak havoc and one of his complex morality tales, with more soapy plot and knife-twists than a Neighbours meets Desperate Housewives intermarriage.Harlos Productions has made a name and niche for itself pitching Shakespeare to the hungry highschool market, which presents a bifold challenge: to infuse the Bard's plays with the life so often sucked out of them by teachers afraid to think outside square old study guides, as well as compete against Facebook, mobiles, iPods, Pads, and the like, to arrest the fleeting attention of hormonally-overloaded teenagers.
In many ways, this makes its job harder than even John Bell's. At least his company attracts willing victims, which gives him and his full reign to exercise the very considerable scope of their imaginations and capabilities.
The Harlos collective has made some good decisions. First of all, they haven't sought to distract either themselves or punters with sets or props, which are so scant and basic as to be almost non-existent ('thrift, thrift, Horatio!'). It's good to see so much invested in text, for a change, and so little in sexed-up backdrops. It's a clearcut case of more matter, with less art; a veritable embodiment of that ethic.
Costumes have been pitched in an indeterminate temporal vacuum, however: there are rather ineffectual allusions to the re-emerging fascist Europe of the present, as well as that of the past, via armbands which invert a corrupted version of the Swiss flag to rightly ridicule the pretence of neutrality in the face of genocidal mania, trenchcoats, jackboots; sadomasochistic and bikie references, via the sexualised leather get-ups of the royal couple; an old-school mask and rapiers; while Ophelia is caught somewhere between a Grimm fairytale, Madonna and a corporate power-dresser.
Better decisions yet were to allow the actors to take on the inflections, vernacular and cadences of regular, everyday, Aussie speech: it's amazing how clear even a text this dense becomes in so doing. All the richness and manifold wonders of narrative, character, irony, sarcasm, allegory and wit are thus revivified. Unfortunately, not all the cast seem to adhere.
While Marcello Fabrizi's (Laertes) diction led the pack, his was a more trad interpretation of the role, not so imbued with contemporaneity; though in doubling as Rosenkrantz he reflected more of that flavour. He seems more at home in a more classical context and his delivery more suited to that. Indeed, he's very gifted in that way and his timbre, depth and clarity is a relatively rare and, thus, distinct pleasure to behold.
Andrew Johnston, as Guildenstern, among others, was considered, consistent, competent & compelling. There was much playfulness and comedic finery on show, as well as great self-assurance; his elocution, commanding.
While on enunciation, it pains me to say so, but Gertraud (playing virtual namesake, Gertrude) Ingeborg's Austrian extraction, and resultant accent, which tends to flatten certain consonants, inhibited clarity, much of the time. Otherwise, her performance was suitably regal.
Scarlett Ritchie, as Ophelia, seemed somewhat at sea and I've never seen an actor looked so distressed while taking bows. Yet her performance was by no means without its merits, though she didn't impress in terms of having command of her swathes of text; an uncertainty seemed to haunt her.
Michael Denkha's Horatio seemed under-confident, at times, and a little too understated. He suffers from a rather expressionless visage, any nuances emanating from it are probably better-suited to the fine observance of such afforded by film & television.
Just as the blurb boasts, James Lugton plays Hamlet with wit, verve and intelligence. How many of the ideas are his, and how many director (and Claudius) David Ritchie's, is a moot and intriguing question. One of the sparks of inventive genius is to have Hamlet's famous soliloquy introduced with repetition of 'to be, or not to be', while flicking a Cricket lighter on and off. It's a clever course indeed to take, to illume that crucial speech.
So, on the debit ledger, individual performances are, for the most part, uneven, as is the collective one. But there are highlights, to be sure. And plenty of wonderful moments.
Tony Youlden's set and, especially, lighting worked well, but I'm not sure I can speak as highly of Aidan Roberts sound which, while reflecting some interesting choices, like blues, tended, at times, to overshadow dialogue: not a good 'look' when dialogue is so potent and portentous.
Hamlet in the morning, albeit 11am, is a big ask, of cast and audience; let alone the weary critic, more accustomed to burning the midnight oil than greeting the morn, in russet mantle clad or nay. Harlos' Hamlet makes it worthwhile, all over again, to wake up, smell the coffee, and see a stimulating reading of the tragedy of the great Dane. Far from the solid flesh of the play melting and resolving itself into mere dew, or cuckolding itself with yet another thoughtless rendition of a version philosophically & stylistically rooted, or mired, in a false notion of classical theatrics, its astringent vapours have been concentrated into a cogent, cohesive creation worthy of a bigger, broader audience. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in Larry Olivier's philosophy, and Harlos has courageously and energetically embraced a good many of its own making. Hamlet is here reappraised and reworked such that it becomes, afresh, of almost infinite jest & of most excellent fancy. Borne on our backs a thousand times, this is something really new. Good morning, sweet prince!
Harlos Productions presents
Hamlet
by William Shakespeare
Venue: Bondi Pavilion, Queen Elizabeth Drive, Bondi Beach
Dates: 5 - 29 May 2010
Times:
Mornings: Mon, Tue & Thurs at 11am
Matinees: Wed, Fri & Sat at 2:30pm
Evenings: Wed & Fri at 7:30pm
Tickets: Adults $36, Concession $30, Students $27
Bookings/Inquiries:
Website: www.harlos.com.au
