Hamlet (2018), ft. Andrew Scott

This is quite a creative production, and in quite a few ways, interesting.

It is set today: the Ghost for example is first seen on CCTV, and the actors all act modern (see the scene of Ophelia saying goodbye to Laertes and you’ll know what I mean). It feels fresh and works rather well for the large part, though one wonders why at a time when cameras, TV, computers, video calls… exist, Hamlet bothers to write to Ophelia on paper, like a hipster (this is also why I cannot sit and watch a contemporary Romeo and Juliet—a phone call would have resolved everything and prevented the tragedy). 

Joking aside, I do think the 2018 production is interesting, though a few choices don’t quite work for me. 

First of all, Robert Icke plays up the sexual attraction, the passion between Claudius (Angus Wright) and Gertrude (Juliet Stevenson), which works very well.

Secondly, he emphasises the surveillance theme, and our modern Polonius (Peter Wight) uses spy devices. Denmark feels like a prison indeed. But he also adds two overhearing moments and I don’t particularly like them: the first time, Hamlet (Andrew Scott) is, without intending to spy, hiding behind a couch as Ophelia (Jessica Brown Findlay) talks to her father and brother about her relationship with Hamlet, and her lines become less independent, less interesting when we see them spoken within Hamlet’s hearing; the second time, Hamlet overhears Claudius speak to Guildenstern and Rosencrantz of the England plan; the two moments make Hamlet appear less smart, as he discovers by chance how others are plotting against him, instead of having his own instinct and seeing through everyone as in Shakespeare’s play (and in the Kevin Kline production).

Thirdly, the production presents a very different Gertrude. There was one scene I didn’t recognise—there are three different texts of Hamlet, and my version was largely based on the second Quarto—so I looked it up and found the scene (slightly longer than in the production) in the first Quarto, often known as the bad Quarto: 

“Hor. Madame, your sonne is safe arriv'de in Denmarke,

This letter I euen now receiv'd of him,

Whereas he writes how he escap't the danger,

And subtle treason that the king had plotted,

Being crossed by the contention of the windes,

He found the Packet sent to the king of England,

Wherein he saw himselfe betray'd to death,

As at his next conuersion with your grace,

He will relate the circumstance at full.

Queene Then I perceiue there's treason in his lookes

That seem'd to sugar o're his villanie:

But I will soothe and please him for a time,

For murderous mindes are alwayes jealous,

But know not you Horatio where he is?

Hor. Yes Madame, and he hath appoynted me

To meete him on the east side of the Cittie

To morrow morning.

Queene O faile not, good Horatio, and withall, commend me

A mothers care to him, bid him a while

Be wary of his presence, lest that he

Faile in that he goes about.

Hor. Madam, neuer make doubt of that:

I thinke by this the news be come to court:

He is arriv'de, obserue the king, and you shall

Quickely finde, Hamlet being here,

Things fell not to his minde.

Queene But what became of Gilderstone and Rossencraft?

Hor. He being set ashore, they went for England,

And in the Packet there writ down that doome

To be perform'd on them poynted for him:

And by great chance he had his fathers Seale, 

So all was done without discouerie.

Queene Thankes be to heauen for blessing of the prince,

Horatio once againe I take my leaue,

With thowsand mothers blessings to my sonne.

Horat. Madam adue.” 

(source) 

One may ask why Gertrude knows about Claudius’s murderous intent but still lets Hamlet and Laertes (Luke Thompson) play at duel, but in the final scene, she becomes very different from the Gertrude I have always known from the text I’ve read and from the Kevin Kline production (Dana Ivey), as she deliberately drinks from the cup she knows to have been poisoned. 

It is an interesting change.

Fourthly, Robert Icke decides to use quite a bit of Bob Dylan’s music in the production. Does it fit? Generally, I don’t mind it too much, except in the duelling scene when the music takes over and we don’t have Shakespeare’s words. 

The last creative choice I’d like to mention is the final scene: old Hamlet’s ghost returns, then we see other ghosts, then the people who have just died turn into ghosts and follow the others. Does it work? I guess to many people it does, as this production is quite popular, but I don’t like it—I can’t quite explain why—too gimmicky? It also appears quite silly that Hamlet, having been poisoned, continues talking on and on when everyone else has turned into a ghost and walked off.  

But the important question you’d probably want to ask is: what do I think about Andrew Scott as Hamlet? I shall say that I much prefer Kevin Kline, partly because Kevin Kline’s Hamlet is much closer to the Hamlet in my head (funnier, more likable, more noble), and partly because he depicts better Hamlet in different moods. Andrew Scott’s Hamlet lacks humour—he’s darker, more bitter, more violent and dangerous, especially with the way he waves the gun at everyone—one watches this production and thinks Claudius is perfectly right for packing him off to England. He and Kevin Kline also approach very differently the scene at Ophelia’s grave: Kevin Kline’s Hamlet mocks Laertes’s “performance” (Michael Cumpsty) but afterwards turns towards Ophelia’s coffin and shows that he loves her, whereas Andrew Scott’s Hamlet goes to extremes mocking Laertes and doesn’t seem to care at all about Ophelia. 

Andrew Scott’s Hamlet is more like a psychopath. Perhaps G. Wilson Knight would have liked it, but I don’t—not really.  

I also think he overacts. One may argue that he feels every line, every word he utters with his hands, his arms, the whole of his being, and sometimes it does work well, but often I just think he overacts. 

This turns out to be a lot longer than my “review” of the 1990 Hamlet with Kevin Kline, but what can I say, the Kevin Kline version was so perfect that there was nothing to say.