Tag Archives: Ben M Rogers

Hamlet

Hamlet

★★★★

Edinburgh Festival Fringe

HAMLET at Edinburgh Festival Fringe

★★★★

 

Hamlet

 

“a fitting expression of the artistry of two men who have had long and extraordinary careers”

 

There is so much to admire and celebrate about the achievements of Ian McKellen, actor, and Peter Schaufuss, dancer, and even William Shakespeare, dramatist, for that matter. It seems like a no-brainer, therefore, to put all three together for a seventy five minute performance in the visually stunning setting of Ashton Hall in St. Stephen’s Theatre in Edinburgh. And it is an extraordinary experience, but not the kind you might be anticipating.

Firstly, there is the building. Approaching St Stephens from the street, it rises up before you like a sanctified apparition of Hamlet’s father’s ghost. The warm welcome the staff extend as you enter, contrasts nicely with the austere lines of the interiors, which set designer Ben Rogers wisely imitates in his bare bones setting for this production of Hamlet. The whole production is a feast for the eyes as you’d expect. It is a ballet, after all. The only words spoken on stage come from McKellen, who has lost none of his ability to take any overly familiar word, and imbue it with fresh meaning.

Filing into the auditorium, you are met with black backdrops, a white textured tapestry, and two banks of shrouded figures with tall Jacobean hats and dim candles glowing in their hands. It’s an arresting image, and sets the mood. The music, composed by Ethan Lewis Maltby, adds to the sense of impending doom. When the figures begin at last to move, and circle the performance space, you know you are about to witness tragedy. On this stage, therefore, it is possible to meet a bifurcated Hamlet, composed equally of dancer Johan Christiansen, and actor Ian McKellen. Dressed alike, varying from matching beanies, to multicolored costumes more reminiscent of court jesters than princes, the costumes aren’t always successful, but they do allow freedom of movement as McKellen, the older, wiser prince, tries to marshal the energy of Christiansen, his much younger, and much more impetuous, self. What gradually emerges in this version of Hamlet then, is a series of vignettes; dancing punctuated by the spoken word. It’s a chance to watch a series of beautiful pas de deux between Hamlet and Ophelia. Claudius and Gertrude, dressed in scarlet, are also an eye-catching couple, and command attention at the centre of their court. But without Shakespeare’s words, it would be difficult to see where this tragedy is going. So much is cut from the script, and that can be frustrating. Fortunately, McKellen is on stage most of the time to guide you through the action.

As drama, this production of Hamlet is obviously incomplete. It is more successful as ballet, and the dancers of the Edinburgh Festival Ballet, under the direction of Peter Schaufuss, are beautifully choreographed. The movements are a satisfying combination of athleticism and fluidity. The grace comes just as much from the stillness as the movement, which suits a great tragedy. This production of Hamlet does indeed have a sense of ripeness—a fitting expression of the artistry of two men who have had long and extraordinary careers.

But that, paradoxically, is where the McKellen/Schaufuss Hamlet parts company with Shakespeare’s. Because we shouldn’t forget that the tragedy of Hamlet is the tragedy of a young man who never gets to become the king he should have been. And it’s the older generation, sadly, that has created the mess the prince has to clean up. McKellen’s Hamlet in this production seems to get that, but like the ghost of his father, can only prompt from the sidelines. And the energy of youth, without the experience of age, can only do so much.

See this version of Hamlet for its austere beauty. You’ll be haunted by the images and the sounds. Ghosts abound.

 

 

Reviewed 5th August 2022

by Dominica Plummer

 

Photography by Devin de Vil

 

For dates and venues for all Fringe shows, click on the image below

 

 

Click here to read all our latest reviews

 


Little Women

Little Women

★★★★

Park Theatre

Little Women

Little Women

Park Theatre

Reviewed – 17th November 2021

 

★★★★

 

“The full cast of eleven are in fine voice, supported by the rich string arrangements of the music”

 

Louisa May Alcott’s novel “Little Women”, originally published in two separate volumes in the 1860s, was said to be one of the first visions of the ‘All-American Girl’. It was hailed as being ahead of its time, and as such has stood the test of time. Continuously in print, with many film and television adaptations under its belt, it finally made it into musical form at the beginning of this century, opening on Broadway in 2005. Today’s audiences might not find the scenario unduly innovative, but it is its charm and endearing representation of the multi-layered personalities that draw you into the story. And Bronagh Lagan’s staging at the Park Theatre has charm in abundance.

The ’Little Women’ are the four March sisters: Amy, Beth, Meg – and Jo steering them through the treacherous subplots of growing up. The rites of passage are brilliantly navigated here by the strong cast that give a passionate portrayal of the inevitable loss of innocence when childhood and womanhood overlap. This is also one of its only snags, though, particularly in the first half when the characters’ young ages jar slightly with the on-stage physicality. But that minor moan is swiftly swept away as we get caught in the current of song and story.

[Best_Wordpress_Gallery id=”288″ gal_title=”Little Women”]

The story focuses on the sisters’ differences. Amy is the baby, yearning for sophistication that’s out of reach. Selfless Beth is timid and musical. Meg, the eldest, is the most traditional, while Jo burns with a determined passion, struggling to find her place in the world. Allan Knee’s book pushes Jo centre stage, whose fiery energy Lydia White captures marvellously, while her theatrical generosity allows the others to shine too. Mary Moore is a bundle of joy as the young Amy, Anastasia Martin is ultimately heart-breaking as the tragic Beth and Hana Ichijo deftly mixes romanticism and pragmatism of the oldest sister Meg in probably the most difficult personality to portray. Savannah Stevenson’s charisma rules the roost as the matriarchal Marmee; a compellingly watchable performance that comes into its own during her two solo numbers.

The full cast of eleven are in fine voice, supported by the rich string arrangements of the music. Whilst Jason Howland’s score never takes your breath away, the sumptuous melodies and Mindi Dickstein’s plot driving lyrics add stirring layers to the narrative. A story that is intercut with vignettes from Jo March’s mostly unpublished attempts at writing. We long for everything to work out for these far from little women, we feel the joy when it does, and our senses are tugged when it doesn’t.

The humour and the pathos are captured in equal measure. You want to laugh, and you sometimes want to cry. It doesn’t rock you to the core but on a cold evening as winter fast approaches it will certainly warm you with the glow of its captivating charm.

 

Reviewed by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Pamela Raith

 


Little Women

Park Theatre until 19th December

 

Previously reviewed at this venue this year:
When Darkness Falls | ★★★ | August 2021
Flushed | ★★★★ | October 2021
Abigail’s Party | ★★★★ | November 2021

 

Click here to see our most recent reviews