Turner’s Hamlet, a more than kin and less than kind

MAIN-Benedict-Cumberbatch-as-Hamlet-in-the-production-of-Hamlet-at-the-Barbican-centre

Last Thursday, England’s National Live Theater broadcasted “Hamlet” in cinemas across the globe. The play stared Benedict Cumberbatch and was directed by Lyndsey Turner. As Cumberbatch explained in a pre-production interview, this version of Hamlet was designed to introduce a new (meaning young) audience to Shakespeare’s most famous play. He was right, this was no scholarly approach.

Turner is not the first director to approach the play from a modern perspective. Director Michael Almereyda’s 2000 movie “Hamlet” set his work in modern New York with the kingdom moved to the corporate world. Almereyda took great liberty with the play in order to sell it to his young audience. While the movie is not bad, it didn’t do well and fell short of expectations. Turner did not quite make the leap Almereyda did; over all it felt like she was walking a fine line between the pre-modern and modern world. On some level it worked but over all it left some audience members confused. Time in this play was out of joint. The props felt as if we should have been in post WWII, but Ophelia’s modern clothing style and Horatio’s tattoos pulled us forward in time. But let’s not start with what didn’t work, let’s look at what did, for both a student of Shakespeare (me) and my friend to whom this play was aimed.

The play begins with Hamlet sitting on a floor in Elsinore listing to a song on a gramophone whose title escapes me, but may be from the 40’s. It was a big band number, something to do with remembering. It is obvious that Hamlet is playing the music because it reminds him of his father. That Turner skipped the opening scene didn’t bother me, but having Hamlet utter both Barnardo and Francisco’s lines, “Who’s there?” “Answer me and unfold yourself” did. Horatio enters and the two engage in the conversation that originally takes place after we are introduced to the court and the first soliloquy. This would be the first of many times Turner omits and replaces both dialog and scenes. While this time it worked for both of us, there were times that the removal of scenes confused us.

Cumberbatch’s scenes between Rosencrantz and Guildenstern was theater at its best. Unlike other productions I have seen, the pain of knowing his friends were playing him was heartbreaking. These scenes between the three were haunting, especially given that Hamlet would go on to coldly write their death warrants. At least it worked for me. My friend missed Hamlet’s explanation of what he had done, because the scene was rushed. There was little emotion from Horatio when he heard the news, so it was not surprising she missed it.

Despite the occasional confusion and rushed scenes, the play worked well for my friend who was unfamiliar with the plot. At times it had her on the edge of her seat, and she laughed when appropriate. She felt Cumberbatch displayed a wide range of emotion and she bought his heartache and rage. She understood Hamlet to be at his wit ends (no pun intended) by the death of his father and his mother’s hasty remarriage. Yet we both agreed that the Hamlet we saw should have had no problem revenging his father. So here lies the rub, or why it didn’t work.

Crazy, or just bad cos play?
Crazy, or just bad cos play?

This Hamlet, though well acted, was not conflicted. In fact, this Hamlet seemed bent on making his new step-father’s life a living hell, not unlike a lot of teens who resent a new parent. His antic disposition was nothing more than a ploy to keep his parents at arms length. The less he had to interact with them the better; so much for trying to figure out if Claudius was guilty of murder or not. Turner cut out most of the scenes between Claudius and Polonius as they tried to figure out what the hell is up with Hamlet. Reynaldo is cut from this production. This makes Hamlet’s crazy disposition seem ludicrous and done only for laughs. By the time we get to the players scene we’ve forgotten why it is that Hamlet is acting crazy.

During the players scene Claudius seemed more embarrassed by Hamlet’s stealing of the show when he jumped in and took over as the villain. Did Claudius leave because of guilt or embarrassment? It was hard to tell.

As much as I appreciated some of the moments between Hamlet and his friends, there was not enough time devoted to character development or personal connections. When Hamlet confronts his mother, the two actors seem more concerned with their dialog than they do each other. We never felt that moment of clarity when Gertrude realizes the position she has gotten herself into. We aren’t even sure she has such a moment. For all we know she never does.

Turner favored visual spectacle over human drama. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that after Act 3, there is a sudden and very dramatic boom, followed by a hurricane force wind that drives rubble into the castle. This is never explained, though it may have been a metaphor for the splitting of the kingdom. It is never talked about or mentioned by the characters, even as they had to walk on it, and at times, move it aside for clean floor space! It was distracting at best, and at worst, one of the poorest thought out metaphors in the English theater.

After all of this, you’d think I would end by telling you I hated the play, but I didn’t. As a live performance piece it was not bad. A few of the actors give stellar performances despite the physical challenges Turner presents them. Yet, this was not, and should not be thought of as a production Hamlet. This was Hamlet lite. Turner’s production captured very little, if any of the emotion and drama that makes Hamlet, Hamlet. Shakespeare lays out the entire human condition for us to discover and experience in this one play, which is why so many actors yearn to be in it. Each word, each scene was written to encompass the human condition, and to lay bare our fears, our desires and how they overwhelm us, to the point that we would take gladly take our own lives or the lives that stood in our way. We thankfully will never do either of these things, yet Shakespeare allows us to acknowledge those hidden emotions that drive our outer behavior.

Yet Turner seemed to sweep all that aside for a visual show piece. As if to say live theater can be just as physically and visually entertaining as cinema. If this had been any other play I would have said job well done. But this was supposed to be Hamlet. The audience should have been pulled in because of the dialog, because of the human drama that all of the characters had to face. Instead we witness Cumberbatch rage at everyone, while they in turn did little to hold their own. Even when Gertrude decides to drink from the cup, she does so as if to say she’s had enough of the play, while Claudius is listless in his plea not to do so. I was half expecting him to say, “so much for her”.

So much is missing from this production that I have to agree with the professional critics when they say Cumberbatch would make a great Hamlet. Too bad this wasn’t it.

Banned books, what are we protecting our children from?

I’m back! Yes, I have no doubt many of you have wondered what happened to my blog. I’ve even gotten a couple of nice e-mails from followers telling me that I’ve been missed. I truly appreciate my readers (all of you) and I should have posted long ago. But the thing is, I’ve not had a lot to say lately.

You’d think with everything going on I’d have something to say, but honestly, I’m tired and numb; tired and numb from all of the political bullshit that continues to pile up on a weekly basis. Tired and numb from the hard stand people are taking when it comes to religious rights and gun rights. And I am truly numb as those who profess to be Christian are screaming about gun rights the loudest.

What will it take for us as a nation to put aside our ideological differences to work together to effect the much-needed change our society needs? Right now Congress seems more concerned with women’s reproductive rights than the people’s right to live in a safe society. What more is there to say? What can be said, when every attempt at a thoughtful conversation only leads to people yelling behind their wall of belief and fear? Belief and fear that any attempt at sensible gun control will lead to all guns being taken away, belief and fear that any attempt to ensure that all people have equal rights will lead to some kind of war on Christianity. Those who hide behind such walls drag the rest of us down to their level because we cannot enter in meaningful dialog. We are getting nowhere fast it seems. And because of this, I am tired and numb. I had to leave the circus for a while and attempt to find some measure of peace. I am not sure I’ve succeeded, but I haven’t banged my head against a wall for a few months now. So, that’s something I guess.

So, instead of coming back ranting about current events, or trying to tie a history lesson to today’s ills, I thought I would share a (kinda) funny story, because this, I swear, could only happen to me.

As part of Banned Book Week, the Carson City library put a call out to people willing to come in and read from a selection of banned books. The reading (I thought) would be audio taped for a later presentation and celebration of books. I signed up as I don’t believe banning books is ever a good idea (well, except for Twilight, but that should go unsaid).

I showed up on the appointed day only to find that we would be filmed while reading! I dislike being filmed(no I am scared of it), but swallowed my fear of the camera for the greater good. I also realized to my horror that in my attempt to get to the library on time, I forgot my reading glasses. Sometimes I question my ability to leave the house fully groomed.

While waiting my turn I quickly looked at the stack of books, hoping to find something with big print. I did not want to be filmed squinting or hesitating as I tried desperately to read the text. I found what I was looking for in Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I remembered reading it several years ago, and in fact bought it for my son. It had big(ish) print and I could not imagine a better young adult book to illustrate the power of books. For those of you who are not familiar with Alexie’s work, he is a writer and filmmaker who shines a light on the plight of the modern Native American in humors and heartbreaking detail. This particular story is told by an unnamed narrator who talks about life in and out of the reservation. His characters are drawn from Alexie’s own friends and family and he breathes so much life into them that they quickly become the reader’s friends and family. I think Alexie is very underrated. I picked his book not only because I could see the text, but also because he has much to teach us.

So as I was called to get up in front of the camera, I quickly scanned the book to find an appropriate passage to read from. I was told I only had 3 minutes, so whatever I picked, it had to have context; it had to be a 3 minute short story. I saw that chapter 4 started with the narrator talking about his first day of high school. Brilliant, I thought! This would work, as it would speak to young adults about social fears (I thought) and could be read as a short story.

Behind the camera stood a quiet, seemingly shy young man (he looked high school age) who said he would tell me when to start and stop. I had been directed to state my name, the name of the book and why it was banned. So when the young man motioned me to start I said:

My name is Sari Nichols, and I am reading at the Carson City library. The book I chose is Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian; one of my favorite books. It was banned because it talks about poverty, masturbation, and is anti-Christian.

Then I began to read from the book. I tried very hard to be “camera friendly”. I memorized a few sentences at a time so that I would be looking up more than I was looking down. As I read from the page it became clear I had inadvertently picked a passage that illustrated why someone had deemed it ban worthy. Oh shit, I thought, as I continued to read, do I stop or do I own the words? Do I say sorry, thus giving in to the idea that this book should be banned or do I continue, showing the world (or whoever watches this video that this is a part of the human condition and should be embraced?) I looked past the camera for a split second and saw that the two librarians were laughing! One was laughing so hard she was bent over in her chair. My decision was made; I owned the words, stressing them as if they came forth from my head and burst from my mouth. And why not? It’s the truth, not matter how much we blush to think about it. I do however feel for the young man behind the camera who looked the other way. I don’t know if he was laughing or was horrified. I’d like to believe he laughed… but I did notice he cut me off rather quickly.

Here is part of what I read

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

I was fourteen and it was my first day of high school. I was happy about that. And I was most especially excited about my first geometry class. Yep, I have to admit that isosceles triangles make me feel hormonal.

Most guys, no matter what age, get excited about curves and circles, but not me. Don’t get me wrong. I like girls and their curves. And I really like women and their curvier curves. I spend hours in the bathroom with a magazine that has one thousand pictures of naked movie stars:

Yep, that’s right, I admit that I masturbate. I’m proud of it. I’m good at it. I’m ambidextrous. If there were a Professional Masturbators League, I’d get drafted number one and make millions of dollars. And maybe you’re thinking, “Well, you really shouldn’t be talking about masturbation in public.” Well, tough, I’m going to talk about it because EVERY-BODY does it. And EVERYBODY likes it. And if God hadn’t wanted us to masturbate, then God wouldn’t have given us thumbs. So I thank God for my thumbs.

When I finished one of the librarians came over (the one who was bent over laughing) and asked if I had deliberately picked that passage. I sighed and said no, it was just dumb luck. Thankfully she thought I did a good job at making the passage come alive and had the courage to do so. It did not take courage but encouragement, and the willingness of others to stand for what is right. Books should not be banned because they may teach young adults about things “better left unsaid”, whether that be about poverty or masturbation. But sadly, this is America today. Many try to shield their children from unspoken truths, because their walls do not allow them to, because their truths would crumble under the weight of thoughtful conversations.

 

This is America today.

059fe9d-2.cachedGuess I just jumped back into the circus. Cue the music!

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