“a workable and reasonably successful ensemble production”
This production from Lazarus Theatre Company reduces Shakespeare’s longest play to a concise one hundred minutes, performed without an interval, by axing all the adult characters. No Claudius, no Gertrude, no Polonius…
The work was initially created as part of an actor in training programme, and the production fails to escape these origins. It still looks and feels like an actor’s workshop rather than a finished piece of theatre. Part of this is deliberate: the setting is an unspecified young person’s space: part drama studio, part therapy group, part corrective training establishment.
The theatre space (Designer Sorcha Corcoran) is stripped back to its black walls exposing the lighting bars, the floor is scuffed with just some fresh blue lines marking zonal space providing some colour. A circle of blue plastic chairs and two props cabinets are the only set. The lighting (Designer Stuart Glover) is often blue too giving some ambience, whilst brighter light from the side bars causes shadowing issues.
An ensemble of nine actors is summoned into the circle by the ringing of a bell. Everyone is dressed in blue sweatshirts, tracksuit bottoms and training shoes. Each is invited to tell their story by an unknown amplified voice (Micha Colombo). This is the method by which Shakespeare’s plot is moved forward; at key moments the voice informs the young people of activities by the missing adults, or of offstage action not seen (“Hamlet has killed Polonius”). The amplified voice becomes an unseen presence with characters looking fearfully upwards, knowing that everything they do is observed. Is this voice then a helpful counsellor or Big Brother?
Central to almost every scene, Hamlet (Michael Hawkey) dominates the action. The remaining ensemble is pushed to the cramped sidelines, slightly but not completely out of the light. Hawkey grows into his role as the play progresses, but the need for speed often impairs the clarity of his diction. Noise from the wind machine and electronic sound effects mask the spoken word in the appearance of old Hamlet’s ghost – although Horatio (Alex Zur) boasts some fine vocal quality – and the occasional use of a handheld microphone with its inherent pops and bangs jars, particularly in Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy. The effectiveness of choral speaking during the Ghost scene is also marred by the amplified sound.
Director Ricky Dukes keeps the actors primarily at a distance as if intimacy between them is not permissible. Hamlet interrogates Rosencrantz (Amber Mendez-Martin) and Guildenstern (Raj Swamy) from the full width of the stage, and again when Hamlet berates Ophelia (Lexine Lee) with “Get thee to a nunnery”. Lee plays her role in an effectively calm manner. When she leaves the stage pursued by a handheld camera, TV screens show her movement through the backstage corridors to her untimely and bloody end in a toilet cubicle.
A comic Players’ scene (Kiera Murray and Juan Hernandez) is nicely done and Kalifa Taylor shines in her lone dramatic rendition. Laertes (Sam Morris) lacks sufficient anger on hearing of Ophelia’s fate but a slowmo sword fight (Fight Direction Alice Emery) between him and Hamlet provides an effective way of staging the final scene.
What is achieved then in this radical rethink of how to present Hamlet is a series of vignettes held together by the framing device of the Voice. This cast, the majority of whom are appearing in their first professional production, all require a little more polish and the production is rather rough around the edges. Considering the loss of so many key roles, though, Lazarus has produced, perhaps surprisingly, a workable and reasonably successful ensemble production.
“Musical interludes are nicely performed with some strong vocals”
Outdoor specialists Bear in the Air Productions bring their summer production inside to the intimacy of the Jack Studio Theatre. Pared down to just six players by Director Heather Simpkin and with a running time of less than two hours, it’s a merry romp through Shakespeare’s popular comedy. But it doesn’t transfer inside well: the space is cramped compared to the great outdoors and, after a long and hot summer season, the ensemble appears tired. Simpkin’s adaptation works well though. With some major cuts to the text, and important lines reassigned to different characters, the plot rolls through apace. This does though leave little space for characters to breathe or for us to see gradual changes in their development. This is particularly a loss when it comes to the all-important exchanges between our heroes Beatrice and Benedick.
The entire cast is almost ever-present on stage, often taking seats at the back when not directly involved in the action. Hannah Eggleton (Beatrice) has a huge presence here, actively listening to the goings-on and reacting accordingly. There’s many a smile, nod and knowing look towards the audience, perhaps more than necessary in this space. She is at her most convincing when defending the wronged Hero and her demand to ‘kill Claudio’ is chillingly done. Ross Telfer (Benedick), with an Errol Flynn moustache and wispy facial hair, plays the seasoned bachelor closer to ‘less than a man’ than expected and is more foolish than erudite.
In a rather nice doubling, these two actors also appear as the bumbling members of the Watch under the leadership of Chief Scout Dogberry (Conor Cook). In a notoriously difficult role Cook plays the troubled character as more quirky than tragic. He also doubles in the roles of Friar – nicely done – and the villain Don John. A black beret and dark sunshades provide the visual clues of John’s inherent nastiness but we would benefit from seeing him as more overtly wicked.
Megan King (Hero & Borachio) is both the innocent blushing beauty – played suitably coyly – and the servant responsible for acting out the charade that leads to Hero’s disgrace. The latter role, dressed in flat cap and Barbour jacket, requires a more masculine or conniving approach. Toby George-Waters (Claudio) gives the performance of the night as Hero’s would-be wooer and then accuser. His initial boyish enthusiasm to seeing a pretty girl contrasts well with his later despair and George-Waters is convincing throughout.
Much of the work of holding this condensed adaption together falls upon the reliable Charles Stobert (Don Pedro). In the central scene of the evening, Pedro and Claudio create the opportunity for mayhem with a traditional moving garden trellis scene in which to trick Benedick and a more ambitious hiding beneath a picnic rug scene for Beatrice. In a production that is generally rather static, these scenes stand out for their stagecraft, well-executed.
Musical interludes are nicely performed with some strong vocals, especially from Stobert, and decent harmonies. The song of the night, Chuck Berry’s ‘You Never Can Tell’ (reprising its use as a dance floor filler in the film Pulp Fiction) is a surprisingly relevant inclusion. Well sung, but dancing could do with improvement!
Brevity is at the soul of this production. It isn’t an especially deep reading of the play – there isn’t the time – but the adaptation for just six players works well. Better seen outside though, where it belongs, on a warm summer’s evening.
