The Tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark: Though this be madness, yet there is method in't
5 Apr 2024 - Photos by Stephanie Bourgeois

What is most remembered when reminded of Hamlet is the famous quotes. "To be or not to be," of course, but also possibly "To thine own self be true," "The lady doth protest too much," and "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark" or any of a multitude of others. William Shakespeare was a playwright and he created "words, words, words" of which Hamlet comprises a few thousand. So it is intriguing when choreographer Guilllaume Cote (Touch) who creates with body movement, and director Robert Lepage (Totem, 887, Needles and Opium) who is renowned for his visual inventiveness and flair, tackle a Shakespearean classic that is famous for its wordplay. However as the bard himself said, "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't." Not enough madness that words are discarded. The Tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark (henceforth referred to as Hamlet) begins with surtitles as the quote "Words, words, words" is laboriously typed out on what sound like a manual typewriter. Shakespeare probably used a quill so our metaphors are already mixing but no matter because the words shift and jumble to become something else completely.

From that point on the surtitles appear infrequently, usually to announce a character entrance, occasionally to comment using a quote, and once to elicit an (unintentional?) laugh. The rest of the plot of Hamlet is told through dance and visuals. Some of it is quite successful and startling evocative, Ophelia's drowning is both horrific and gorgeous, the pivotal play within the play is done with masks that are haunting and direct. But Shakespeare's Hamlet is also filled with debates on state of mind, on madness versus method. This Hamlet gets the broad strokes right, we understand internal conflicts, grief, lust and anger, and the entirety builds to a devastating emotional finale. But while we can see that Ophelia is upset enough to drown, its not really clear (without a knowledge of the text) why. There is an attempt to turn emotional states into specific cued movements. This sometimes works on an almost subliminal level, but at other times comes across as mime or a psychological game of charades. The ideas driving this production, the interpretation or insight the creators are trying to impart gets tangled up by the simple difficulty of communicating plot.

That might concern Shakespeare but it won't bother an audience in any significant way, if anything there was obvious joy in scoring intellectual points for having clarity. This Hamlet is sumptuous and emotional. Stripping away the words distills the characters to emotional essences and they are surrounded with simple but stunning visual coups de theatre. The ghost of Hamlet's father is the first, using shadow puppetry combined with dance to vividly delivery a haunting indictment. That the ghost is invoked using a sheet, which is also treated comically and sartorially, is a rich addition. Lepage/Cote are fascinated by how the ordinary grows or becomes the extraordinary. Size is as relative as guilt and vengeance. Nothing and no-one are necessarily what they seem. In one extraordinary scene the rich red curtains, which have been a constantly moving metaphor all evening, are held apart by Polonius, Gertrude and Claudius so that we can peer through voyeuristically to observe an intimate pas de deux between Hamlet and Ophelia. Plot, metaphor and audience participation all rolled into one delicious visual.

The score by John Gzowski is simultaneously stark and lush. Strings throb or only shriek to be hammered into submission by heavy metal power chords tinged with dissonance. The effect is akin to a melodramatic vintage film score, by Max Steiner or other Wagnerian imitators, which pairs stunningly with the blood red set and costume motif as well as the overheated emotions. The choreography is continually engaging, casually athletic and always in service of the piece, switching effortlessly from angsty solos to lock step video dance moves and even a spritz of breakdancing. All the movements are grounded in both an emotional thrust and a mutual trust in the other dancers. Lukas Malkowski shines as Laertes, a lithe feral presence with emotions that radiate through his entire body before sparking across the gap between the stage and the audience. Carleen Zouboules (Touch) as Ophelia somehow conveys fragility while flinging herself, and being flung, across the stage, while Greata Hodgkinson's Gertrude exudes regal eroticism with every elegant movement. Robert Glumbek's Claudius is hiss-worthy, while Coonor Mitton and Willem Sadler turn Rosencrantz and Guildenstern into impossibly agile vaudevillian slapstick comedians.

Bernard Meney is a stolid Polonius who then startles with his bizarrely Gandalfian proficiency with a staff. Cote's Hamlet is a swashbuckler, all action and aggressive speed with the hesitations and doubts after thoughts. Horatio, the final girl in this bloodbath, is given a spritely playful energy by Natasha Poon Woo. Her duet with Cote in the graveyard scene (or is it a trio with the addition of Yorick's skull?) is bleak humour pushed to a fanciful degree. Woo's final moment of despair is shocking and shakes the theatre. Throughout the score has occasionally paused to sonically concentrate on the breathing, heart beating, and other organic bodily sounds of contact with the stage or rapiers. "The rest is silence" made manifest. We cling on Horatio's grief and horror until she suddenly springs to life and begins a reiteration of the movements meant to express specific emotions. It is a showcase but an unfortunate coda. Once again plot and thematic determination have got in the way of letting raw emotion explode, or in this case implode, on the stage. An intellectual experience instead of a visceral one. But still a delicious one.