The Tragedy of Hamlet

Of all of Shakespeare’s plays, “Hamlet” might seem the hardest to adapt into dance. Its long soliloquies and a titular character stymied by indecision do not immediately scream movement potential. Nevertheless, Canadian ballet superstar and choreographer Guillaume Côté has teamed up with renowned director Robert Lepage of multi-disciplinary company Ex Machina to do exactly that; “The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark” marks its US premiere at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance in Millennium Park, Chicago. Perhaps it’s Côté’s desire to dance once again the famous role of the Dane (previously with the National Ballet of Canada) that has propelled this star-driven vehicle into existence.

Performance

“The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark” directed by Robert Lepage, choreographed by Guillaume Côté

Place

Harris Theater for Music and Dance, Millennium Park, Chicago, November 24, 2024

Words

Róisín O'Brien

Guillaume Côté and Carleen Zouboules in “The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark.” Photograph by Matt Barnes

With Lepage as designer and director and Côté as co-designer and choreographer, there is not much deviance in this production from Shakespeare’s central plot. An anguished young prince grieves over his recently deceased father, while watching on in confusion and anger as his mother remarries his uncle Claudius, now the king. The royal setting gives us usual conspiring between various courtiers and their servants. As Hamlet begins to suspect his uncle of causing his father’s death, he spirals deeper into depression, pulling in his loyal friend Horatio, performed by Natasha Poon Woo, into his plans.

Turning a narrative text into a ballet both closes and opens possibilities. Dialogue and textual nuance are lost, but we instead have individual physical expression as well as the spatial and archetypical possibilities in the visuals of large groups moving together. Lepage describes in the program notes stripping away the words to “find the skeleton still remains and its meaning doesn’t disappear.” As director, he fairly successfully navigates the complexities of the plot by using a few well-placed screen titles above the stage to either introduce a character or a famous Shakespeare quote (though the latter seems more for the audience to knowingly laugh at, rather than to add much to what’s on stage). But the loss of textual complexity is not replaced with distinct visual or physical intricacy.

Carleen Zouboules as Ophelia in “The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark.” Photograph by Stéphane Bourgeois

Côté’s choreography is functional and clear: as the lead, he builds on his strong classical form and flourishes his sword with panache. Poon Woo as Horatio is a nimble right-hand man, who balances Côté’s grandeur with her own fleet-footedness. Some of the choreography is nicely expressive of the dancers’ individuality. Lucas Malkowski’s Laertes has some compelling acrobatic phrases, which contrast Laertes’ drive with Hamlet’s melancholia. Greta Hodgkinson as Queen Gertrude brings a certain regality to her role, while Connor Milton and William Sadler as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern deliver a required comic touch.

There’s a sense throughout, however, of going through the motions. Potentially interesting dramatic representations appear, but are not dug into, and the plot continues on (the production is under two hours with no interval). High points include slow rolls of somnambulant bodies to signify a rocking ship, or the play within a play, where the players’ enlarged masks and genuflecting movements allow for rich visual storytelling. On the other hand, there’s an odd flatness rather than simplicity in some of the set design. Sheets are frequently unfurled to be used for shadow theatre, or to hide or embrace bodies, notably for Ophelia’s final watery moments. A lot of the action happens in front of a pulled curtain while the set is re-arranged for the next scene. Presumably this economy of design makes it easier to tour this work, but there’s little sense of ingenuity born from restriction.

From left: Willem Sadler, Robert Glumbek, Greta Hodgkinson, Connor Mitton and Bernard Meney in “The Tragedy of Hamlet: Prince of Denmark.” Photograph by Stéphane Bourgeois

One of the biggest drawbacks of the production is the music. Again, while no doubt composer’s John Gzowski’s recording is easier to pack up than an orchestra, the lack of live instrumentation feels particularly noticeable. Perhaps this is to do with the type of grand music that it is: a barrage of high intensity strings and distorted guitars that are constantly dialled up to ten. There are some fun jaunts, but the overarching result lacks subtlety. The audience are told what to feel, rather than given space to experience sonic range and build their own impressions.

Overall, it’s a fairly perfunctory performance. You will get exactly what you expect—a moody Dane against a gloomy backdrop and orchestral music—or maybe even a little less.

Róisín O'Brien

Róisín is a dance artist and writer based in Edinburgh, Scotland. She regularly writes for Springback Magazine, The Skinny and Seeing Dance, and has contributed to The Guardian and Film Stories. She loves being in the studio working on a new choreography with a group of dancers, or talking to brilliant people in the dance world about their projects and opinions. She tries not to spend too much time obsessing over Crystal Pite.

comments

Featured

REVIEWS | Karen Hildebrand

Boundless Beauty

As I watch one after another pastel tutu clad ballerina bourrée into the arms of a white-tighted danseur, a melody not credited on the program floats through my brain. You know the one.

FEATURES | Sophie Bress

Misty Copeland's Legacy

Misty Copeland’s upcoming retirement from American Ballet Theatre—where she made history as the first Black female principal dancer and subsequently shot to fame in the ballet world and beyond—means many things.

REVIEWS | Gracia. Haby

Crossroads

Haneul Jung oscillates between the definition of the Korean word, man-il meaning “ten thousand days” and “what if.”

REVIEWS | Gracia Haby

Ground Control

Moss Te Ururangi Patterson describes his choreographic process having a conversation with other elements. As he describes pushing himself under the waves, and a feeling of meditative, buoyancy as he floated in space, the impression of light beneath the water was paramount.