Hamlet ****

Hamlet. Arguably, the most famous play in theatrical history. Herald to some of the most memorable quotes, and the famously dark character of the ‘sweet prince’, a worthy rendition of ‘to be or not to be’ is a fame vehicle and honour that will put your name up there in the pantheon of Hamlet’s, inhabited by names like David Tennant, Kenneth Branagh, and Laurence Olivier.
Jude Law entered into the role an underdog, but easily proves himself more than a Hollywood name, inhabiting Hamlet’s tormented and sensitive soul, sprinkled with perfectly dry wit and a style all his own. Law’s body language is so fluid, and so sublime, he could successfully perform the first mimed version of Hamlet - it’s apparent from the start when the usual beginning is preceded by Grandage’s insertion of a kneeling, grieving, philosophising Hamlet - all these possibilities of emotion in one gesture, heavy on the shoulders of such a young prince. For Law’s Hamlet is somewhat boyish in it’s confusion and vulnerability that lies beneath the tantrum-like anger. His Hamlet looks almost made up in his mind already with his bared teeth and cruel sarcasm that fill his first scene; this has been criticised by some critics, but this understandable interpretation, in my admittedly ignorant opinion, must be one of the most feeling Hamlet’s performed. And what does the audience go to Hamlet for but to share his misery? The anger doesn’t command but simply adds another adrenaline inducing dimension despite the audience already being aware of the outcome. Hamlet is still as calculatingly mad but somehow human as he should be.
Law’s performance brings life to sick and dreary Denmark (an admirably simple set by Christopher Oram, who like Adam Cork’s average sound, and Neil Austin’s lighting - which is barely a decoration in a play so dark it begs no light - is practically resident at the Donmar) inhabited by otherwise mostly equally dreary performances. Claudius (Kevin R McNally) and Gertrude (Penelope Wilton) despite their rank are regrettably dull, and Peter Eyre plays the Ghost of Hamlet’s Father as amplified as he does the Player King. Gugu Mbatha-Raw is memorable only in her madness, for as sane as the others, she as dull as them too, and her brother Laertes played by Alex Waldman is ironically, vivaciously unfeeling in the matter of her death. It is Matt Ryan’s leather clad Horatio, and Ron Cook’s hilarious Polonius that are the only constantly well played parts.
This three hour version practically hurtles along, the cuts barely evident when you’re so spellbound by Hamlet - Grandage has brought out the psychological thrill of the play most commendably. He almost channels it’s main theme with actors donning black and only black, and almost has a timeless feel it’s costume style if it weren’t for Horatio’s jacket and Hamlet’s jeans, but this Hamlet is aimed more at new audiences, in keeping with the aim of the Donmar Season. I attended the free performance with Donmar’s Discovery Scheme (free tickets for under-26’s) and Grandage’s pride and enthusiasm over making theatre more acceptable was just as moving and respectable as the performace. Grandage has made Hamlet his own and ended the season on a relatively high note (but mostly thanks to Law‘s enchanting Hamlet).
Veronica Grubb