First Transmitted 25th May 1980
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Derek Jacobi climbs one of the literary summits of the world in Hamlet |
Director: Rodney Bennett
For his final production, producer Cedric Messina
presented the most famous play of all time: Hamlet.
His vision of Shakespeare was always sharply traditional with a focus on
clarity, clearness and faithfulness with an aversion for invention and
interpretative daring. So the real tragedy of Hamlet is that this most deep, complex and searching of works is
strait jacketed here, with little real aim beyond capturing a ‘complete’
version of the play on screen.
Which is what you get: an almost complete reading of
the play (there are no more than a dozen small cuts at most) with the
characters and events interpreted more-or-less as you might expect. Characters
circle around each other, communicating but not truly interacting. The play
rolls gently from set-piece to set-piece, with Jacobi’s soliloquies hammered
into the ground like milestones for the viewer to pace themselves to (however
wonderfully they are performed). There is nothing unique or truly interesting
here – if you’ve seen a couple of Hamlets
you’ve probably seen every idea there is in this film. Combine this with the
play’s bum-numbing length (I had to watch it in about four shifts) and there
isn’t much here to tempt a viewer back for repeated viewings.
The focus here is firmly on the language of each
scene, to the detriment of action, emotion and (of course) interpretation. This
is not always a bad thing: if you want a chance to simply listen and think
about the play, this might well be the production for you. I certainly enjoyed
reflecting on the depths of Shakespeare’s writing – the six pages of thoughts
and reflections I made about this production are a tribute to the intelligence
of Jacobi and his fellow actors. But without drama there is a lack of
engagement. If the production places the whole play on screen as an act of
intellectual taxidermy what is there for me to invest in? Put it another way:
would you rather see the stuffed animals in Natural History Museum or real ones
at London Zoo?
Director Bennett originally wanted to film on location
– an option vetoed after As You Like It.
Instead the first truly impressionistic set we’ve seen so far in the series is
created. The basic location is a sort of cyclorama, a bare blue oval into which
are dropped various walls, perspective tricks, tables, graves and thrones to
create different locations. It’s an attempt to bring theatricality to
television once again, but much more successfully and consistently than in Henry V. And it pretty much works. It’s
also the first production to use incidental music to develop mood. What music
can do, when it’s used well, is to add texture and depth to film – and it’s
used very well here, unobtrusively placed and used to particular effect at the
end of Act 1 to underscore Hamlet’s encounter with the Ghost. 
But the filming here is largely safe and straight
forward. There is some neat editing in A3 S4 where different angles are used to
show the different perspectives of Hamlet and Gertrude during the Ghost’s
second visit (making it clear that Gertrude sees nothing). There has been a bit
of ribbing of the Ghost’s appearance, like a fluorescent Jacob Marley, but it
does give him an unworldly feeling. Typically, any interesting interpretative
questioning of the Ghost’s faithfulness (or Hamlet’s relationship with what
must have been a distant and imposing father) is ignored, although an
interesting comparison is made between his overbearing browbeating of Hamlet and
Polonius’ bullying of Ophelia one scene earlier, with similar angles and shots
used.
But to really talk about a production of Hamlet you need to get down to the actor
playing him. Messina went all out to get the biggest name he could get and secured
the man who seemed to have spent most of the 1970s playing Hamlet all over the
world. So, if nothing else, this film should be noted for recording one of the
great Hamlets of the twentieth century for posterity. I feel (and this is a
personal thing here) that this production allows you to see what a brilliantly
cerebral actor Derek Jacobi is. Jacobi successfully plays Hamlet as an
exceptional, deep thinking genius in a performance that is notable for its
low-key, softly-spoken nature.
From his first lines the sharpness of his intelligence
are clear, as he addresses Claudius in A1 S2 with a scruffy, hands-in-pockets
contempt. His introspection has only been heightened by great sadness at his
father’s death (crucially not despair), and you can feel a bookish gentleness
to him. He’s a reserved man, close to only a few. He’s not an avenging angel.
Like all performances, certain lines ring out, and when hearing of the Ghost
the key phrase Jacobi embraces is “it troubles me” – his unease at the
implications for him of the Ghost are plain. He may suspect Claudius – and his
reaction to the Ghost’s story makes clear he does – but he’s not comfortable
with the obligation of revenge.
Throughout, Jacobi explores the impact of this news on
him, specifically the idea of how far Hamlet’s madness trickles over from
pretence into reality. As an actor, Jacobi is willing to go quite far – after
the departure of the Ghost, he howls and literally beats himself in fury, a
frantic disposition quite alien from the opening scenes. His feigning has a
gentle, open-mouthed simplicity to it but there is a hint under the surface of
a wildness that has been activated in him. During his “rogue and peasant slave”
speech he deliberately takes on the character of a man raging for revenge,
either side of a more reflective nature – Jacobi even points up the ‘acting‘
Hamlet is doing, by stopping the speech and looking quizzically at his sword,
as if unaware of what it is for.
But this is still a Hamlet energetic enough to do what
it needs to get the truth. Jacobi takes over the play performance in A3 S2,
pushing aside the players to act out the tragedy himself, Hamlet challenging
Claudius directly – making it clear to the man he knows the truth and
challenging him t make the next move. His maniac laughter and nonsense singing
after the performance however suggest a looser grip on sanity – a feeling that
continues throughout A3 S4 where it seems ambiguous as to whether his callous
disregard for Polonius’ death and savage physical assault (including miming sex)
on his mother stem from controlled rage or mania.
But Jacobi, like Shakespeare, is smarter than that –
he knows madness is not only about running around shouting. From A3 S2 Hamlet
is oddly disconnected (other than with Horatio). In A4 S1 he confronts Claudius
with an eerie calmness. His “to be or not to be” speech may be a sharp
intellectual meditation (and Jacobi does it very well) but it also has
unsettling notes of suicidal peace and playful joy. By A4 S3 he seems almost
psychotic, calmly talking about plans of murder. It’s a clear the Ghost has
turned Hamlet from a reserved intellectual to a suicidal depressive with bouts
of mania who, by the end of the play, has disconnected himself from all joy and
lightness in the world and seems engaged only by death. And if that’s not a
type of madness, I don’t know what is.
That’s a lot on one performance – but there is a lot
there to analyse. Jacobi does a terrific job of bringing it to life, exploring
the myriad ideas and debates behind him. If there is one thing missing, though,
it’s heart. Ophelia is worthy of a few tears – at both her betrayal and death –
and his closeness with Horatio has an almost homoerotic frisson, but neither
really moved me as a viewer. I didn’t get the sense of emotion – and this is
part of what I was saying earlier. It’s a production where ideas are triumphant
over emotions, where characters talk but don’t interact. It’s brilliant (more
accomplished than other filmed Hamlets),
but it’s harder to love.
Many of the supporting performances are mixed. For me,
Lalla Ward just doesn’t have the range for Ophelia. It’s a difficult part, but
her performance is too weak and simpering, lacking in depth – it’s never clear
why Hamlet is interested in her; it’s easy for a viewer to tune her out. I was
also disappointed by David Robb’s Laertes. His Laertes doesn’t quite work – he
has a patrician charisma, he’d make a very good Orsino but not a great Laertes.
It’s hard not to see an actor as exciting as Ian Charleson wasted as Fortinbras
and wishing they had swopped roles. Robert Swann makes very little of Horatio
(though to be fair I’ve seen very few actors manage to make much of what must
be the dullest role in all the great tragedies).
Eric Porter’s Polonius seems trapped between interpretative
stools. There is a clear jump between A1 and A2 in how his character is
portrayed, moving from an overbearing and controlling father to a more muddled
old man, struggling to keep up with Hamlet. It’s a switch I found a little
jarring, as if there had been a tug-of-war over interpretation and we had been
left with a compromise performance as a result. Honourable mentions must go to
Emrys James’ excellent Player King and Tim Wylton’s gravedigger (Wylton makes
more impact in five minutes here than he did in three hours of Henry V).
Claire Bloom is the only cast member (including
Jacobi) who speaks to the heart. She clearly has a genuine love for her son –
though is not averse to slapping him in A3 S4 – and her breakdown into guilt
and regret in A3 S4 is one of the best I’ve seen done. It’s a scene that
clearly hangs over her and affects all her actions from that point on – you can
see it in her growing distance from Claudius but also in the living death Bloom
manages to show behind her eyes from that point on. It’s as good as her work on
Henry VIII.
Patrick Stewart’s Claudius I found interesting,
largely because it is very similar in tone and interpretation to the
performance he would go on to give to almost universal acclaim in the David
Tennant production 30 years later. Stewart’s Claudius is a cold politician,
smiling and smiling but always a villain. He’s clearly a competent ruler but is
playing the honest Joe to everyone while being deeply corrupt. Stewart throws
in an interesting ending with Claudius, stressing at several points the
character’s hatred and contempt for Hamlet – the tension between them in A3 S2
sizzles. Stewart plays him as a man obsessed with destroying Hamlet – even laughing
when Hamlet murders him, as if overjoyed to have trapped him into committing
open treason. But it’s a safe performance, helped by his undeniable charisma.
Watch the Tennant Hamlet and you will see a great Claudius, one of the best on
film.
Reading back through this review, Hamlet-like, I
cannot decide if I have been either too harsh or too easy-going on this
production. It’s trying its best, but it has no heart and it falls between too
many stools. It feels like a mixture of intellectual exercise and faithful
Xeroxing of the text. There is stuff here to admire and, whatever its flaws,
Derek Jacobi’s performance simply has to be seen for anyone interested in this
play. But I’m not sure there is enough here to come back to – certainly nothing
in the bits he isn’t in. And in a world where we have so many filmed Hamlets it’s hard to see anyone rushing
back to this one when they have a choice of Olivier’s,
Branagh’s, Gibson’s, Tennant’s, Hawkes’, Kozintsev’s or Williamson’s.
Conclusion
There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking
makes it so. That probably sums up what’s missing from a production that I
looked upon if anything with a countenance more in sorrow than in anger. You
won’t find your tongue full of praise for it. Jacobi is brilliant, but the rest
just doesn’t quite cut it.
NEXT TIME: We move into the reign of Jonathan Miller with John Cleese casting his mission statement in The Taming of the Shrew.
NEXT TIME: We move into the reign of Jonathan Miller with John Cleese casting his mission statement in The Taming of the Shrew.