Hamlet at the National Theatre

"Brevity is the soul of wit”: a piece of advice dispensed by Polonius, often unheeded in historical productions of Hamlet. The latest challenger doing battle with Shakespeare’s longest play is Robert Hastie, whose stylish adaptation casts Life of Pi star, Hiran Abeysekera, as the titular character. At just under three hours in runtime, the performance maintains a brisk pace while remaining faithful to the core actions in the play.

Abeysekera brings a modern attitude to an old role. The Prince casts aside his usual black robes and courtly attire, choosing instead to rock designer sweatshirts, trainers and handbags. He also favours brevity over philosophy, refusing to linger in soliloquy, tearing through questions of life and death as if he were conversing with the audience. Hamlet’s typically dry humour and wit remain intact as Abeysekera breaks the fourth wall, while his solemnity appears to be absent. Although this mitigates the tragic impact of the play, it also presents a more relatable attitude for a present-day audience, who are in an age where serious events are often met with irony and detachment as a method of self-preservation.

Yet, there is a vacancy to be found in the production’s political resonance. The original tragedy famously plays upon Elizabethan fears of succession and transfer of power; Claudius’ swift capture of the throne is a questionable process which invites further corruption into the state and would have unsettled a contemporary, Elizabethan audience. Hastie’s production, however, offers no clear, modern-day analogue for this political anxiety, transforming the story from a national emergency into a largely private affair. This could explain why Abeysekera’s soliloquies lack the existential undertones usually expected of the role – the fate of the state is diminished, the stakes for Hamlet are lowered, and the void left behind is occupied by comedy, undercutting the play’s tension. There is a clash between Hamlet’s new, unbothered persona and the portrayal of Claudius by Alistair Petrie, whose military attire and sombre presence are much more traditional in nature. In both Shakespeare’s original play and Hastie’s adaptation, military dress serves as a visual shorthand for legitimacy and state control. It promises a regime of authority that this production never fully realises, leaving Hamlet’s insouciance largely unthreatened. The performance concludes with the same brisk pace and a lack of violent spectacle; sovereignty is transferred from the dying Prince to Fortinbras, but any feeling of national consequence is notably absent.

Nonetheless, what the Prince forgoes in tragedy is somewhat recuperated by Ophelia, played by Francesca Mills. While the role has often been framed as fragile and passive historically, Mills’ portrayal was anything but that. From interrupting the bumbling Polonius to running freely across the stage, the audience was presented with an Ophelia unrestrained by obedience and convention. This verbal and physical assertiveness dominates many a scene, and the audience genuinely mourns her demise: the emotional weight of this scene overshadows even the famous closing sequence.

A fresh perspective on a classic text, as opposed to a carbon copy of source material, is always welcome. While this production does fall short on political commentary, it largely succeeds in resurrecting Hamlet as a play which can still hold its own in the modern era.