A little grave, a little little grave

I hope for three things when seeing a Shakespeare play, and maybe the first two lead to the third, so maybe I only hope for one thing, or maybe two things to reach the one thing. Or maybe I hope too much. Anyway, they are 1) an emotional connection, where I sympathize with at least one character (and it's really the best when it's my favorite character), 2) a sense of intellectual, or maybe I should say aesthetic, appreciation, which is easy enough to achieve when the actors understand what they're saying; and 3) a combination of the emotional and intellectual appreciation into a third what I guess I would call spiritual (though I'm not sure that's the best word) heightening, the sort of reaction that makes me feel how wonderful it has all been, how glad I am to be alive and be able to experience something like that. That's the rarest reaction, but it sometimes happens.

I'm sorry to say (for my own sake) that none of the three Shakespeare plays I saw at the 1997 USF did it for me, although I found Hamlet to be somewhat enjoyable on an intellectual level because most of the major characters could perform Shakespearean text, and I even had an emotional connection with one or two characters in the play.

One feature of the Utah Shakespearean Festival is that they have various free seminars throughout the day. They have one about costumes, where they detail the process of building the costumes, from the design sketches to the finished product. They have actor seminars where you can ask questions of the actors; they have literary seminars where they discuss the previous day's plays, and music seminars where you can talk to the musicians and ask any manner of question. I think it's a marvelous idea. Anyhow, one day they had Martin Kildare (who played Hamlet) with Ace Pilkington (he taught at, I think, Dixie College in nearby St George, and has written a book on Shakespeare on film).

Several people in the audience told Kildare that his was the best Hamlet they'd ever seen. I thought he did rather well, but for two things: 1) too much of the play was cut. I didn't realize until seeing Branagh's 1996 film how integral to Hamlet's character each scene of the play is, how much it reveals and how it ties in with the other scenes to give you the whole picture. But that wasn't Kildare's fault; I just don't see how you can say his is the best Hamlet you've ever seen if you didn't even see the whole play. 2) I didn't sympathize with him. I don't think I'm being entirely fair to him, because I couldn't help comparing his performance to the impact that Branagh's had on me. I know Branagh's Hamlet is far from perfect, and I think what he does with Fortinbras' invasion at the end is ludicrous, but there it is. Anyway, when I most appreciated Kildare's Hamlet was when he was being funny, as in making fun of Polonius and Rosencrantz & Guildenstern. (What does that say about me?)

As for the play itself, on the whole it was pretty good. It was directed by Howard Jensen (who, incidentally, played Hamlet at the USF back in 1961). It was set on a raked stage, which - as I learned from one of those helpful seminars - was the set designer's attempt to show the imbalance of the Danish court. I don't see how one can walk around decently on a stage like that, but I guess one gets used to it. The set consisted of two side panels about 15 feet high (made to look like stone), depicting muscular winged men, nearly naked, holding up swords - I immediately thought of 1930s Nazi Germany, but I was told the set was inspired by the Holocaust Memorial in Washington, DC. Between these two panels was a recessed area with another panel of the same material at back with a bas-relief, larger-than-life crucifix. I thought at first it would serve as the chapel where Claudius attempts to pray, but it wasn't. They put curtains across its opening for Claudius and Polonius to hide behind; later, Polonius was stabbed through one of those curtains, and the Ghost appeared there during Gertrude's closet scene. They also used the area for exits and entrances. There was also a metal staircase stage right leading up to a balcony that extended the width of the stage, the balcony being supported (apparently) by the wall panels depicting the winged men.

The costumes looked like they were set in World War I era Europe (although someone told me it was supposed to be the 1920s). There were uniforms for the soldiers, naturally (but Fortinbras and his men wore red berets, which I thought made them look very modern), vests and jackets and baggy trousers for the civilian men, floor-length dresses for Gertrude (hers rather opulent as befits a queen) and Ophelia.

Photo of Claudius, a pouty Hamlet, and Gertrude, from the USF website

I was hoping that setting the play in that era, whichever it was, would give some added insight to the play, but it didn't to me (however, I'm pretty dull on picking up things like that on my own). On the other hand, it didn't detract, either, except that everyone carried rifles instead of swords and went around pointing them at each other. That made me kind of nervous. It's a lot easier for an itchy finger to accidentally shoot a rifle than for it to stab someone with a sword. Hamlet was reduced (in two senses of the word) to carrying a switchblade. He stabbed Polonius through the curtain with it four or five times - enough times to kill someone with a 4-inch switchblade, I guess, but I have no personal experience in those matters. What bothered me about it was that Hamlet never held on to Polonius, and it seemed to me that Polonius, after the first jab, could've run off, and I wondered what kept him from fleeing. Except that he wasn't supposed to.

Polonius was pretty good as the doddery, foolish type who didn't seem to care over-much for his children or anything else except serving the king.

Gertrude (Fredi Olster) was very good, as good as Kildare at speaking Shakespeare, except that her voice was a little too mannered in the closet scene. But it was interesting to see her change in feeling toward Claudius after that scene. You could tell that what Hamlet had said made a difference to her, and she and Claudius grew farther apart as the play progressed to the end. I thought at first that they'd even have her figure out that Claudius was trying to poison Hamlet and that she'd drink the wine on purpose to save her son, but they didn't do it that way.

Claudius and the Ghost were played by the same actor, and he did well enough. He had dark, slightly greying hair and a dark beard as Claudius, and wore a dark blue military uniform. As the Ghost, he wore a white tuxedo and had white hair and a white beard. I learned that the white or pale makeup was applied over his regular makeup, which had some sort of fixative (is that a word?) over it to keep it from getting messed up when the white stuff was removed. He had to do quite a few quick changes, and I was impressed with the timing of it all.

Ophelia deserves special mention, but everyone else ranged from adequate (Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, Horatio, and Laertes before he went to France) to slightly irritating (Fortinbras, Osric, and Laertes after his return from France).

Polonius and Ophelia, from the USF website

Other than Hamlet when he was being funny, Ophelia (Victoria Adams) was the one I felt the most for. She did well in the early scenes. Her description to Polonius of Hamlet's madness was somewhat by rote, meaning she did the whole "act it out while you tell it" bit and she didn't really sound too upset, as her words indicate she is. But her submission to her father (when Polonius says, "Look to it, I charge you" and she answers "I shall obey, my lord") was very sad, as was the nunnery scene with Hamlet. After Hamlet leaves her, when Claudius and Polonius come on to discuss whether Hamlet is mad or not, they both essentially ignore poor Ophelia, who is sitting there on the ground, dejected and rejected. I think here they missed an opportunity, though, to show Claudius' and Polonius' preoccupation with Hamlet as his behavior relates to their own survival at the sacrifice of Ophelia's emotional needs. She reached out her hand to her father, who said, "How now, Ophelia? You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said. We heard it all," but he didn't take her hand. She then gathered up her scattered, broken "remembrances" and exited too quickly. This could have been a more pointed, poignant moment, but wasn't.

It reminds me of something I think it was Bernice Kliman said, in her book about the various depictions of Hamlet, that one production she saw indicated that Ophelia overheard the king's and her father's plans for Hamlet, and that she understood he was being sent away to his death, and that this contributed to her madness. I almost thought they were going to do it this way, but Ophelia gave no indication that she even heard, let alone understood, what her father and the king were saying. Alas.

The Mousetrap scene, where Hamlet jests cruelly with Ophelia, was also well done - quite heart-rending reactions from Ophelia. Actually, and this kind of surprised me, it was her mad scene that was her weak point. She didn't seem mad, didn't even act mad. She acted like she was acting mad. The only convincing sign of her mental imbalance was that she wore a hideous purple dress - no one in her right mind would put on such an outfit.

And this brings me to another complaint I have. Ophelia changed into that dress for her mad scene, and Gertrude changed into a nightgown for her closet scene, but at no other time did any character at all have a change of costume! It really bothered me that, two months later (or however long it was) Ophelia and Gertrude were wearing the same old dresses, and Laertes came back from France in the same suit he left Denmark in.

The gravediggers were funny, but I think it would be hard to mess those characters up; you'd have to work at it. Anyhow, they bring me to my third (and last) major complaint. Ophelia's body was let down into a partially lowered trap door (about four and a half feet down, I'd say), then Laertes jumps in after her, wanting to embrace her one last time. Fine, I can handle that. Then Hamlet, not to be outdone, jumps in with a resounding thud, and he and Laertes have at one another, back and forth and back and forth within the narrow confines of the grave, and I'm thinking in shock, "Poor Ophelia! They're trampling her to smithereens!" I mean, I knew she wasn't there, because I could hear the wooden floor under their feet, but still . . .

The fight choreography for the duel was very good. My two younger children had gotten rather restless by that time, but they were riveted during the duel. Hamlet and Laertes fought up the staircase and across the balcony then back down again.

Everyone died well enough, but poor Hamlet and Laertes were so overworked from their duel that you couldn't help noticing them breathe.

Martin Kildare got a standing ovation from perhaps two-thirds of the audience, but not from me. First of all, I think there's ovation inflation, and second of all, good as he was, it just wasn't the best Hamlet I've ever seen.