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.