Be warned that what follows is something of a maverick report on the Hamlet now sent from London’s National Theatre (where I first saw it) to BAM’s Harvey (where I looked forward to seeing it again). The review’s a maverick because, while there is much amiss in Robert Hastie’s directorial choices, this Hamlet is so stunningly acted that it’s unquestionably worth seeing. The sheer pleasure of listening to it qualifies this current William Shakespeare take as the latest top-drawer production of (is it?) the most produced play in the canon.
Evidence of its worthiness is hinted at in the program bios where the actors who included their training mention RADA, LAMDA, Guildhall School of Music and Drama, and the Royal Central School of Speech and Drama. Listing the schools is a more specific way of saying they’ve all been immersed in speaking easily and persuasively the Bard’s mostly conversational language, though too frequently it’s misunderstood as somehow challengingly hoity-toity.
As Hamlet advises the visiting players, these actors speak Shakespeare trippingly on the tongue without sawing their air with their hands. They present an impressively pristine and at the same time dramatically effective Hamlet.
[Read Michael Sommers’ ★★★☆☆ review here.]
Leading them, as properly required, is Hiran Abeysekera in the title role. At first glance, Abeysekera doesn’t appear to be an obvious choice to portray the princely Dane. Already recognized stateside for his acclaimed role in The Life of Pi (and already having won an Olivier award), he seems at first glance too slight a Hamlet.
But healthily trim, he successfully wages an athletic attack on the role. Throughout the play—in two acts here—he’s authoritatively effective. His versions of the soliloquies are impassioned, ruthless, each, as Shakespeare composed them, unrelenting self-excoriations. His “to be or not to be” is slightly different. (More of that farther down).
Abeysekera doesn’t miss a chance to highlight Hamlet’s intelligence and wit, having no trouble convincing the audience, if not the other characters, that he’s riding roughshod over them. This, by the way, is not to Hamlet’s ultimate advantage. Indeed, his offhand treatment of Ophelia works to his detriment.
The Ophelia of Francesca Mills is an unusually aggressive love interest. In her interpretation, obviously supervised by director Hastie, she’s an Ophelia perhaps unlike any other ever seen. She’s practically pushy, which could be a reason this time around for Hamlet’s repeated disregard.
Truly, everyone in the cast registers—Alistair Petrie as a stern and guilt-plagued Claudius (Shakespeare is aways unforgiving on guilt), Joe Bolland as a feckless Guildenstern, Hari MacKinnon as an equally feckless Rosencrantz, Tom Glenister as a persistent Laertes, Matthew Cottle as an unknowingly prolix Polonius, Tessa Wong as a female Horatio (not Horatia?), and Ayesha Dharker as a stalwart Gertrude. (Dharker beautifully delivers Gertrude’s extensive description of Ophelia’s drowning, which nonetheless still raises the question why she only observes rather than makes an effort to rescue the poor wretch.)
And here’s the point in this coverage where some of director Hastie’s odd notions (the female Horatio, for one) and deviations must—to the production’s detractions–be regarded. Lighting supervisor Jeremy Turnbull’s lights go up dimly on the supposed promontory where, in this partial ghost story, dead King Hamlet’s ghost is seen and heard.
Unfortunately, clearly viewed are several fancy tables that when fully illumined represent the party taking place to celebrate the recent Claudius-Gertrude nuptials, the event at which Hamlet tries to remain silent. The tables are surrounded by three walls where set and costume designer Ben Stones features a 17th century (school of Nicholas Poussin?) landscape. Eventually, other impersonal surroundings are revealed.
This raises the question about where and when this Hamlet is unraveling: across the centuries, apparently, and right into the 20th century with the taking of a selfie and mics prominent. Pistols are on hand. (Hamlet shoots Polonius instead of stabbing him through the arras.) Don’t, however, jump to the conclusion that foils are dismissed. Laertes still must challenge Hamlet to a duel with poisoned weapons and drinks. A duel with poisoned bullets wouldn’t do. Gertrude crying not “the drink, the drink” but “the bullet, the bullet” might invite laughs.
Maybe Hastie’s worst alteration (in a current century when Shakespeare alterations are commonplace) is what he does with the soliloquy that begins with Shakespeare’s most well-known and certainly most quoted words. Yes, the bold, if not brazen director has decided to fool around with “To be or not to be—that is the question.” (Without question mark.) He thinks it a good idea not to have Hamlet discourse where Shakespeare placed it.
The upshot is that those in the audience who know the play well and have waited for this incomparable rumination begin to be concerned about its possible absence. I couldn’t have been the only one in the full crowd who began to worry that I’d somehow missed it or, worse, that Hastie had completely discarded it for being too obvious.
Okay, in my attempt to alert future audience members, I offer this spoiler: Hastie keeps it in. (Abeysekera speaks it ever-so-trippingly). But whatever his reason for placing it where he has is foolish. There’s plainly no excuse for disorienting an audience (excluding those for whom this is an initial Hamlet sighting) with so much attention diverted to fretting whether “to be or not to be” is ultimately going to be or not to be.
Hamlet opened May 4, 2026, at the BAM Harvey Theater and runs through May 17. Tickets and information: bam.org
