Hamlet

Reviewed by Amanda L. Andrei

Antaeus Theatre Company

Through June 20

RECOMMENDED

I love a stage that rumbles when you walk in. With so many productions and versions of Shakespeare’s Hamletthroughout the centuries, it’s good to be reminded that the theater still growls.

With Cricket Myers’ sound design providing the ominous aura, we enter a dark and sparse land, with Stephen Gifford’s set showing the bleeding boundaries of this corrupt political state: crisscrossed poles dividing the spirit world from the kingdom of Elsinore, smoky columns suggesting offstage labyrinths. Directed by Elizabeth Swain, this Antaeus production interprets Hamlet as epic yet agile, philosophical yet visceral, and invites us to consider the moral dilemmas of a world in transition.

Be prepared: this is a long show, and rightly so. Elizabeth Swain trimmed the original by 25 percent of its original length, reducing a four hour show to only three hours. Despite its length, the play moves along briskly, aided by actors so comfortable in the Elizabethan tongue and free in their gestures that the language does not feel archaic or foreign, but rather close and familiar.

The ghost of Hamlet’s father (Gregg T. Daniel) is downright malevolent, enacting furious violence upon his son as he retells his unjust death, not to mention casting doubt on whole unfolding of the play – can we ever be sure this was Hamlet’s father? Hamlet (Ramón de Ocampo) is sure, and in his grief and turmoil, he pursues revenge on behalf of his father (or perception of his father), revealing a rotten state of political and personal affairs in the process. Polonius (Peter Van Norden), Laertes (Michael Kirby), and Ophelia (Jeanne Syquia) appear at first to be a loving, protective family, but quickly we see the cunningness of Polonius with the politik King Claudius (Gregg T. Daniel), the policing of Ophelia’s sexuality, and the spying bargains made with the charming yet doomed Rosencrantz (Lloyd Roberson II) and Guildenstern (Sally Hughes). Gertrude (Veralyn Jones), though subdued by the forces around her, would not put up for this state of affairs in a world a modicum kinder to women. Horatio (Adam J. Smith), a true and faithful friend to Hamlet, gives us reason to believe in Hamlet’s schemes and serves as a witness to the corruption of Elsinore, especially when Fortinbras (Sally Hughes) comes to take the crown.

There is much to love about this interpretation of the Bard’s most produced play. In a tender, unspoken moment before all speech and the resumption of court business, Hamlet and Ophelia share a tender waltz across the stage, which breaks our heart when Hamlet turns to performed madness, abusing Ophelia in the process, and eventually Ophelia goes truly mad.

Ocampo’s Hamlet is charming, witty, sharp – in particular, his rapport with the traveling troupe of players (Joel Swetow, Michael Kirby, Lloyd Roberson II) reminds you that he is a theater kid too, he finds revelry and truth in the finding of himself in others – making it all the more tragic that he found his darkest, most catastrophic self in the visage of his dead father. Syquia’s Ophelia also breaks your heart, the solemnity in her madness and the visual of her dirtied white nightgown, a harsh contrast to the warm coral-colored dress (costumes by Dianne K Graebner), as the ravages of patriarchy eat at her. It’s almost a relief that she returns as a minor court character who helps Laertes and Hamlet in their fatal duel, and Peter Van Norden as the Gravedigger, reminding of us of how the ghosts of characters reverberate through different bodies.

Indeed, the doubling is intentional and a common practice among Shakespeare’s companies since the Bard’s very first plays were performed, and it is a pleasure to watch the actors quickly change costumes and resume totally different characters, sometimes within minutes, as they buzz on and off stage.

Swain’s direction reminds us that despite the deaths, grief, intrigue, and tragedy of this play, there are also comedic moments and touches of wonder, especially in Hamlet’s madness and the Players’ rehearsals and performance. Hamlet is a bit of an actor, director, and playwright himself, and his love of theater and certainty in its usefulness in touching a guilty conscience is striking. How many of us still believe in theatre that way? Or is it part of the performing madness and absurdity, that by creating illusions we believe we will find truth?

Granted, there were some moments of awkwardness with jokes that didn’t quite land right, or in general, uneven laughter from the audience – it never seemed that we all laughed at the same moment, just scattered guffaws or one side of the house catching something that the other side didn’t.

But what does it mean to see Hamlet at this time and in this place, here and now in Los Angeles? This play feels different in a world transitioning through COVID and dealing with the deaths of millions, watching political turmoil in countries beyond its shores as we reckon with our own, and obsessing over women’s sexuality and reproductive abilities. Watching the Gravedigger pull out skulls and the royal family putting Ophelia in the ground, commenting that she could not be buried in a consecrated space, I felt the specter of pandemic and shame looming over the audience. How many of us still grieve while coping with authorities we no longer trust? How many of us have experienced moments of tragedy in the past few years?

Outwardly, this production of Hamlet feels classical, appropriate for both newcomers to Shakespeare and fans of his work. And to see a cast that is half actors of color is a joyous sight, also reminding us that these characters are larger than life, they are archetypes seeking to be filled by powerful players with the talent and capacity to sweat and scream and die onstage. This show is not trying to update itself to a different setting or time, it’s giving us a contained world that uncannily reflects ours back to us. In the midst of grief, confusion, deception, and immortality, what parts will we play? To ourselves, how can we be true?

Antaeus Theatre Company/ Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center, 110 East Broadway, Glendale; Fri., 8 pm; Sat., 2 & 8 pm; Sun., 2 pm; Mon., June 6, 13, & 20, 8 pm; thru June 20 https://antaeus.org  Running time: three hours