Review: HAMLET, National Theatre

“Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.” Given The National Theatre’s history with one of Shakespeare’s most famous plays, a new production of Hamlet is a natural fit in Indhu Rubasingham’s inaugural season as artistic director. Robert Hastie follows the likes of Laurence Olivier, Peter Hall, and Cicely Berry in setting down his own take on the play, helping to kick off Rubasingham’s tenure in a bold fashion.

For this is a Hamlet which is not simply in modern dress, but embraces modern sensibilities. We recognise now that grief can manifest itself in many different ways, so our titular prince doesn’t have to mope around and be visibly melancholic throughout the play; he can outwardly appear to be coping, whilst his interior monologue says all sorts of things.

As an audience we are given an insight into this via his soliloquies, which almost spill out of him at times - Hiran Abeysekera’s Hamlet’s mind is working at 100mph as it tries to process everything that’s going on around him. There’s a ring of truth to this, as your mouth can often struggle to keep up with your brain in times of stress.

If Abeysekera is the beacon and driving force of the production, then Francesca Mills provides the heart and soul as Ophelia. 

There is a marked difference between the grief experienced by Hamlet and that which engulfs Ophelia when she loses her father, Polonius. With no one to confide in (Hamlet has Horatio and, seemingly, us), she has no way of sealing up the cracks that appear; her breakdown is all-consuming and visceral, the raw emotion from Mills enough to shatter even the iciest of hearts. That you witness before this the strength of her bond with Polonius makes it harder to bear - despite the eye-rolling at some of the things he says and does, it’s clear that this is a tight-knit family.

Geoffrey Streatfeild finds a fine balance of Polonius’ characteristics, demonstrating obsequiousness and a lack of self-awareness at times, but also showing himself to be a doting father. His comic timing is second-to-none, with Act 2 scene 2 a definite highlight; playing it straight in his asides to the audience whilst Abeysekera looks on in confusion, in the manner of The Hot Priest in Fleabag.

Alistair Petrie, of course, has experience in the role of troubled father, but here he swaps Sex Education’s Mr Groff for Hamlet’s “uncle-father” - it’s a more subtle portrayal of Claudius’ turpitude, as he doesn’t go for all-out villainy until the end, when it’s clear that Gertrude (Ayesha Dharker) has seen through him. It’s a nuanced performance that also plays its part in having the audience question the motive of the ghost in recruiting Hamlet for revenge.

There is plenty of comedy dotted through a play that is most known for its impressive final body count, including the stereotypical English poshboy depictions of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (one in chinos, the other in red trousers), and the Jamie Lloyd pastiche that is The Murder of Gonzago (or “The Mousetrap”). None of this detracts from the seriousness of other scenes, in fact it works in their favour as the light filters through the dark.

Ben Stones’ set and costume design creates a strong visual aesthetic, placing the action in a contemporary royal court rather than the old-fashioned battlements of history. The great hall, in which much of the action takes place, is particularly striking; its walls depict the old King Hamlet defeating Norway’s King Fortinbras in battle, in a style similar to that which you’d see somewhere like Hampton Court Palace.

This is exactly the kind of Hamlet you would hope to see at The National Theatre. Challenging, entertaining, and compelling, it takes one of the most well-known plays in the English language and shows us something new. The play’s the thing, indeed.

Hamlet is at The National Theatre (Lyttelton) until 22 November

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