Bell Shakespeare: Hamlet (Melbourne, 2008)
Bell Shakespeare had a crack at Macbeth in 1994. In the production, the weird sisters were very weird indeed. They weren't witches, in fact. They were from outer space. And, dammit, it worked! Does anyone remember the old Eunos TV commercials? That's what their cossies were like. Plus utility belts and Cyberman headgear. They ran around with syringes. (Girls' germs an' all that.)
I had to pitch my reviews, way back when, to my editor in Sydney. I found myself in the ignominious position of having to tell RJ that I enjoyed the production but couldn't put my finger on why, precisely. He was inexplicably delighted by this confession and promptly commissioned the review. (If I can find it... and it's not too humiliating... I'll put it up somewhere.)
I had a vaguely similar reaction to the Bell production of Hamlet, Friday. Apart from Horatio (in the opening scenes) and Ophelia (in the latter half of the play) the acting was pretty bloody undistinguished. Hamlet (Brendan Cowell) in particular was constantly off the beat. I'm not (just) talking verse, here, I mean the beat of the meaning. Given that this production has already done five weeks at the opera house, this is as good as it gets...
If it had been the premiere performance, I would have assumed there was still a way to go. Having said that, the last Bell production of Hamlet, in 2003, was at its best at the Opera House when it opened. It was looser by the time it made it to Melbourne. (If you're keen, you can read my AFR review of the Sydney premiere and my Herald Sun review of the Melbourne season.)
The cuts to the play (more than an hour by my reckoning) were harsh. Inconsistent too. But, hey, I'm not a Nazi when it comes to the language, either. I don't mind 'porpentine' updated to 'porcupine'. I can live with it.
Other niggling little changes puzzed me, I have to say. I'm guessing that there must be some new scholarship justifying changing one of the most famous quotations in the history of the English language... Especially cos Brendan Cowell said the 'wrong' word so emphatically!
But, hell, it was a pretty good night out. So, what? I liked the set? Sarah Blasko's songs? (The show opens with Blasko crooning one of Ophelia's mad little ditties.) The sound? The lights?
I did love the three-storey spiral staircase, corkscrewing from the sky, like a double helix of metal DNA. I liked the vertical crypt, OP. I thought the ghost was admirably gruesome.
I didn't mind the players being cut more or less completely... though this did really fuck the "the play's the thing" bit. At least they could have done it as a dumb show... Here, it's a barely comprehensible song -- Blasko in the wrong register -- with percussion provided by... a tap dancer. (LOL)
Cowell has an oily-haired charm, I guess. A bit Michael Hutchence. And he sticks resolutely to his blokey register, a la Gluteus Maximus from Spartacus. You know, what's his name... The bloke Sharon Stone took a shine to, professionally speaking. Mister Romper Stomper. (It's 4:39 as I type, I've got an excuse for vagueness.) [Crowe Magnon Russell, he remembers, belatedly.]
Barry Otto -- looking for all the world like Quentin Crisp -- is an overly effete Polonius. I'm sure he did what he was told, but the choice weakens the play. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were played as ridiculous halfwit clowns.
I had better stop now, before I talk myself out of liking the thing.
Hamlet. Bell Shakespeare. Directed by Marion Potts. Designed by Fiona Crombie. Lighting design by Nick Schlieper. Music composed and performed by Sarah Blasko. Sound design by Stefan Gregory. Playhouse, the Arts Centre, Melbourne, until August 2.
I had to pitch my reviews, way back when, to my editor in Sydney. I found myself in the ignominious position of having to tell RJ that I enjoyed the production but couldn't put my finger on why, precisely. He was inexplicably delighted by this confession and promptly commissioned the review. (If I can find it... and it's not too humiliating... I'll put it up somewhere.)
I had a vaguely similar reaction to the Bell production of Hamlet, Friday. Apart from Horatio (in the opening scenes) and Ophelia (in the latter half of the play) the acting was pretty bloody undistinguished. Hamlet (Brendan Cowell) in particular was constantly off the beat. I'm not (just) talking verse, here, I mean the beat of the meaning. Given that this production has already done five weeks at the opera house, this is as good as it gets...
If it had been the premiere performance, I would have assumed there was still a way to go. Having said that, the last Bell production of Hamlet, in 2003, was at its best at the Opera House when it opened. It was looser by the time it made it to Melbourne. (If you're keen, you can read my AFR review of the Sydney premiere and my Herald Sun review of the Melbourne season.)
The cuts to the play (more than an hour by my reckoning) were harsh. Inconsistent too. But, hey, I'm not a Nazi when it comes to the language, either. I don't mind 'porpentine' updated to 'porcupine'. I can live with it.
Other niggling little changes puzzed me, I have to say. I'm guessing that there must be some new scholarship justifying changing one of the most famous quotations in the history of the English language... Especially cos Brendan Cowell said the 'wrong' word so emphatically!
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,(Me niggling? Are you kidding?)
than are dreamt of in OUR philosophy.
But, hell, it was a pretty good night out. So, what? I liked the set? Sarah Blasko's songs? (The show opens with Blasko crooning one of Ophelia's mad little ditties.) The sound? The lights?
I did love the three-storey spiral staircase, corkscrewing from the sky, like a double helix of metal DNA. I liked the vertical crypt, OP. I thought the ghost was admirably gruesome.
I didn't mind the players being cut more or less completely... though this did really fuck the "the play's the thing" bit. At least they could have done it as a dumb show... Here, it's a barely comprehensible song -- Blasko in the wrong register -- with percussion provided by... a tap dancer. (LOL)
Cowell has an oily-haired charm, I guess. A bit Michael Hutchence. And he sticks resolutely to his blokey register, a la Gluteus Maximus from Spartacus. You know, what's his name... The bloke Sharon Stone took a shine to, professionally speaking. Mister Romper Stomper. (It's 4:39 as I type, I've got an excuse for vagueness.) [Crowe Magnon Russell, he remembers, belatedly.]
Barry Otto -- looking for all the world like Quentin Crisp -- is an overly effete Polonius. I'm sure he did what he was told, but the choice weakens the play. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were played as ridiculous halfwit clowns.
I had better stop now, before I talk myself out of liking the thing.
Hamlet. Bell Shakespeare. Directed by Marion Potts. Designed by Fiona Crombie. Lighting design by Nick Schlieper. Music composed and performed by Sarah Blasko. Sound design by Stefan Gregory. Playhouse, the Arts Centre, Melbourne, until August 2.
Labels: Bell Shakespeare, Hamlet
posted by Chris Boyd at 9:58 AM
12 Comments:
Actually Brendan Cowell doesn't say the wrong word when he says "our philosophy" instead of "your philosophy". It's just that this production is using the folio version and the slight word changes which are in the folio (such as "currents turn away and lose the name of action" instead of "currents turn awry and lose the name of action" in the "To be or not to be" soliloquy or "mock your own jeering" instead of "mock your own grinning" when he's talking about Yorick's skull or "one man picked out of two thousand" instead of "one man picked out of ten thousand").
"Your philosophy" is in the second quarto and that seems to be the most well known version, but using the folio version doesn't mean he's saying the wrong word.
I presume using the folio instead of the quarto is also one reason why the "How all occasions" soliloquy isn't there - that soliloquy only appears in the second quarto.
So, wait, did you like it or did you not like it? *lol*
No, it's cool, I get ya. You're certainly a lot more charitable than I was. Suffice it to say that I'm not doing another Bell Shakespeare production again. And I really rather loved Leon Ford in the 2003 production. *nod*
Thanks, Anon, for the clarification. 'Your' philosophy always seemed rather contemptuous to me. (I was always Horatio, never Hamlet... except in my private life!)
Dri, why not watching Big Gay Al on SBS or Media Watch on the Abe? xx
Phew, I thought I was the only one who felt that way. There was something I liked about it but the more I talk about it the more I discover what I didnt like about the play. I've liked Brendan Cowell previously in roles but in this one he just didnt seem to hit the mark. There was one point during the scene where he first makes contact with the ghost of his father where his inflections reminded me of an exasperated Valley Girl, like Oh my god its the ghost of my father! It felt patchy, but I feel guilty for saying it because I know that he is capable of more I just dont think its in this role. I thought the music was definately a highlight though and found myself humming it most of the way home. I saw the 1994 version of MacBeth you mentioned and had the same reaction. Maybe they put Prozac in with the smoke machine over there at Bell Shakespeare to cover indiscretions in the production, it would make sense.
I laughed out loud at the Valley Girl speak, Cookie!
I've really enjoyed Cowell's stage work in the past, too. He was stunning in The Shape of Things for the Sydney Theatre Company five years back.
You should go read Alison Croggon's review (or Nicholas Pickard's at Sydney Arts Journalist) if you need a bit more affirmation! (You're definitely not alone in your opinion.)
Clicking on The Cook's link takes you nowhere. (You have to paste in your "http://" before your web address, ma'am, otherwise blogger will assume the link's in my blog!)
Anyway, go read about mash and Osso-mouthwatering-Bucco (where spelling is "a serving suggestion").
Ah you found me, yes sorry about that I was commenting from work where the overlords patrol with slavering hounds and eyes peeled for "unauthorised internet usage" so I had to be quick. Its like Gitmo in there some days.
I read Allisons review, which much more artfully described how I felt about the play.
She may have hooked me into seeing Blackbird as well.
Yes, do go see Blackbird. It's quite brilliantly acted.
I'll let you know if there are any Valley girl inflections the night that I see it.
I wish I could forget about Russell Crowe. A few nights ago I dreamed one of my cats kept coming home at evening with a little bit more of his fur inexplicably shorn off. None other than Russell (in his maths genius incarnation) turned out to be responsible. More things on heaven and earth etc etc.
Grracious, poor Baz ( cryptic cat comment there.) Russell Crowe-Magnon, heh.
Sounds awfully like the songs were the thing, Chris. But thanks for confirming Alison's opinion that Cowell was a tad offbeat. I'd rather watch the rest of Love My Way, I think.
Just the mention of RC & shaved pussies... all I can hear (in my mind's ear, as 'twere) is that Jaws-like grunty music from Romper Stomper. (It's all your fault!)
And GT, you've been on my mind at least twice in the last 24 hours. I took your blog's name in vain in an email subject line and, last night, I saw Michael Dalley's show Intimate Apparel which began a return season. It's at Dante's. (And is VG, as a certain diarist might say, in an overly artsy sorta way.)
And Dri, you too. Saw The Baleful Christian as The Batman this eve. 'Twas a fair fight methinks.
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