Hamlet – Cultivated

There’s no risk that Rupert Goold’s production of Hamlet for the Royal Shakespeare Company might “lose the name of action”: it comes in at a rapid-fire two and a half hours, with the events of the play condensed into just one evening.

It also all takes place on a boat. While never said explicitly that the boat is the RMS Titantic, a graphic at the start gives a date of 14 April 1912 – the ill-feted ship’s sailing date.

These decisions make for a bold and energetic production, but they also result in some jarring moments.

Es Devlin’s set is dominated by wooden expanses forming the deck and a ceiling of sorts, that tilt at occasionally severe angles as the sea – and the on stage action – becomes more tumultuous. There is a wrap around screen at the back featuring Akhalia Krishnan’s video projections, principally choppy waters but also walls and windows out to the seas. These generally work well, but do result in some AI physics moments; actors leave through a central exit at the back and your eyes expect to see them through the portholes – but the virtual vistas role on undisturbed.

RSC Hamlet - Photo courtesy Norwich Theatre — RSC Hamlet – Photo courtesy Norwich Theatre

The set also features two garish red digital clocks that occasionally beep into life, showing the time in an inescapable visual reminder of 2:22 A Ghost Story, an anachronism that is only matched by Horatio using an antique camera to capture a Polaroid of Claudius during the play within a play.

Perhaps most frustrating though is the 24-hour news, social media timescale of the action. Laertes raises a revolution with alarming alacrity. Hamlet is sent to England, despatches Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and gets back on board to see Ophelia’s funeral all within about 30 minutes – the service itself happening with astounding speed.

The finale takes place at the odd grave-on-a-boat setting (bits of the deck are taken up, seemingly more out of tradition than anything else), where the mourners have thoughtfully brought along the baited foils and poison cups just in case Hamlet makes an appearance. It’s all a bit sudden.

It’s far from unusual for cuts to bring down what can be a four hour slog, and Hamlet is robust enough to have been through lots of transformations in its 400 years. The big risk here is that the prince’s agonising carries less power when he’s aggrieved at 10pm and slaying his enemies well before dawn breaks.

All that said the cast bring in some performances that sail over and above the production’s idiosyncrasies.

Ralph Davis is a human Hamlet, leaning into the madness and even employing some gentle audience interaction. The soliloquies always pose a risk due to their fame, but he mostly avoids the temptation to try something new for the sake of it.

Richard Cant finds Polonious’ gentle humour without making him a bumbling idiot, and Raymond Coulthard blends a emotional connection with Gertude (Poppy Miller, sadly robbed of her best lines by the edit) with a self-preserving streak. Jamie Sayers and Julia Krass are more successful in their preppy American versions of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern than Colin Ryan’s Harry Potter-esque Horatio.

Ophelia is perhaps the character with the most relatable arc in the play, and Georgia-Mae Myers straddles the doe-eyed lover and grief-stricken daughter perfectly.

The story and poetry of the play are powerful enough to withstand adaption and interpretation – and fresh looks can tell us something new. This isn’t a perfect production but if you’re willing to roll with it, there’s a daring, visually stunning, and emotionally interesting take here.