As the director of London’s National Theatre, Nicholas Hytner has produced a politically charged Hamlet, apropos for the 21st century, with Rory Kinnear delivering a most sympathetic portrayal of the troubled prince. Kinnear’s Hamlet is far from heroic, but rather someone with whom audiences share a sense of empathy as a man very much of our modern age. While wanting to act he feels unsure, frustrated by his inability to do what he believes must be done, he is disempowered within a world in which he believed he was to have had a leading role.
With a play about which so much has been written, and with such memorable performances that accolades for their leading actors comprise a substantive canon of work in their own right, one may wonder what new and meaningful insight any director can bring to the production. We have seen it done by both Olivier and Gielgud, with an on-going debate as to which was the better. There is Kenneth Branagh’s epic four hour (un-cut) film version that is excellent in every way – except, I believe, that Branagh was by then too old to have played the lead in his otherwise brilliant production. An abridged version directed by Michael Almereyda starring Ethan Hawke, where Denmark is a major corporation in the ruthlessly competitive metropolis of New York, and Hamlet’s murdered father is ubiquitously referred to in both the boardroom and within the former CEO’s penthouse as King Hamlet, is likewise, a compelling production. Each of them are of the highest quality and, not withstanding that some have been judiciously cut to fit within a two hour limit, otherwise maintain a scrupulously faithful adherence to Shakespeare’s text. It is, of course, Shakespeare’s language that carries the depth of meanings and extraordinary insights into the human psyche. My personal favourite has long been Sir Richard Burton’s portrayal, which I saw when still at school, where it ended up that the final rehearsal filmed before opening night, with all of the actors in street clothes, that is today considered a classic and has been preserved on film and is available on DVD.
What is of particular interest to me is the manner in which Hytner reveals the deeply political nature of this play and the way in which he is able to portray, in a most efficacious manner, a frighteningly chilling study of realpolitik. Distrust, suspicion and surveillance pervade the entire drama, with the only exception being the relationship between Hamlet and his close friend Horatio. Curiously, despite the excellent performances of the two actors, it is the one significant shortcoming of the production. As is evident from countless films and a plethora of stage dramatisations, neither Hollywood nor the South Bank knows how to portray genuine love between men based on a deep sense of affection, honour and integrity. Either the camaraderie comes off as awkward, too aloof, or that they are simply pals, as in this case; or else, as having to have a homoerotic undercurrent. It is only in Hamlet’s death scene, where Horatio delivers his “Goodnight sweet prince”, that Shakespeare’s perfect choice of phrase enables him to communicate what ought to have been present all along. Likewise, Hamlet asks his friend to remember to tell his story so that future generations should know all of what has happened. This dimension of human existence that embodies noblesse oblige, as well as the tenderness of fraternal love (not necessarily based on a bloodline), appears to exist like a rare species within the great animal kingdom that lies on the verge of extinction.
An undercurrent of political intrigue runs through the play, depicting an atmosphere where government is suspicious of its citizens and citizens highly sceptical of their government, e.g. in “the law’s delay”. It is modern day Britain or France or the USA. It could, for that matter, be Egypt or Tunisia, which recently erupted into chaos and violence. The background of the stage in nearly every scene is canvassed with tall shadowy figures, mostly they are athletically built black men in impeccably tailored dark suits, flawless mannequins, with that conspicuously inconspicuous ear-piece with the wire that runs down the back of the neck and is attached to a tiny microphone clipped to the lapel.
King Claudius’ perfidy could hardly be more despicable as his pusillanimity seems to know no bounds. He keeps enquiring of the prince as to why he persists in his gloomy and difficult temper. His mother too, asks her son to try harder to be more congenial, while Claudius, who is now her husband, says it is unmanly of Hamlet to act in this way. Repeatedly they ask what the matter with him is. They cannot fathom why he persists in carrying-on in the manner in which he does and with his obviously feigned madness, except possibly that his father has been murdered, and in all probability by his uncle who has usurped his brother’s crown (Hamlet’s birthright according to Carl Schmitt in his essay Hamlet oder Hekuba) and, on top of all this, is screwing his mother. Of course, Claudius’ real question is not why, but rather, how much does the prince actually know, and moreover, what might he be planning to do about it?
The air of disingenuousness and distrust is nowhere more pronounced then in the character of Polonius, the personification of the political man, tediously opinionated and obsequious at the same time. He is the true politician. That Polonius is a windbag, despite his so often quoted fatherly advice, “to thine own self be true”, is well established. What this particular portrayal accentuates is the full extent to which he distrusts his own son, itself a terrible betrayal by any father, as well as his equally condescending and disparaging manner of addressing his adult daughter. Nicholas Hytner has lifted the curtain on the unsavoury characters upon the world stage of political events: the modern political class.
Robert Luongo
Latest News: The final draft of The Power Template – Shakespeare’s Political Plays, was completed at the end of September 2010. The arduous task of obtaining a literary agent to advance this work towards publication is carrying on with vigour. I remain optimistic.
