Theatre review: Stylistic flourish and emotional intensity in a gutsy new Hamlet at Bard on the Beach
In brisk modern-day production, daring choices include omnipresent paparazzi, dance interludes, and kaleidoscopic lights
Nadeem Phillip Umar-Khitab as Hamlet and Kate Besworth as Ophelia in Bard on the Beach’s Hamlet. Photo by Tim Matheson
Bard on the Beach presents Hamlet on the BMO Mainstage in Vanier Park to September 20
IS THERE SOMETHING rotten in the state of Denmark? In director Stephen Drover’s daring modern-day adaptation of Hamlet, dance parties are in full swing, and for the titular tragic hero that’s rotten indeed.
Wallowing in the corner while everyone around him busts a move, Nadeem Phillip Umar-Khitab's Hamlet is pure angst. That is, until you consider the circumstances: the young prince has returned home from studying abroad to mourn his father, only to find his uncle’s coronation in full swing and his mother remarried to the new king.
Apart from the contemporary setting, which remains deliberately vague about time and place, there are other notable reinterpretations in this bold adaptation. There’s an intense focus on the characters’ emotional landscape and the drama moves fast, thanks to some gutsy stylistic flourishes—think kaleidoscopic lights, music interludes, and those dance sequences—as well as some significant cuts and restructuring of the text.
Embracing the brisk pace, the first words spoken in the play are the famous “To be or not to be” soliloquy from the third act. Clad in a dark suit and standing over his father’s grand library desk, Umar-Khitab starts the speech with a bit of a declamatory flair that gradually builds in emotional immediacy. Throughout the performance, he maintains that intensity, delivering his soliloquies with both clarity and passion. From the outset, this prince’s actions may not yet be resolute, but his brooding resentment certainly is. And it’s no wonder, since no sooner has he finished his ruminations than the court, led by his uncle Claudius and his mother Gertrude, bursts in, cutting his grief short with their grand speeches.
As Claudius, Munish Sharma speaks with a gravitas that suggests the constant presence of cameras—and there is, paparazzi snapping photos and chronicling the family’s every move throughout the show. In this reimagining, the dead monarch’s brother is more of a politician than a royal, naturally skilled at blurring the line between sincerity and diplomacy, with a very in-love and smiling Gertrude at his side. Even as the plot reveals Claudius’s likely manipulations, Sharma manages to keep the character somewhat likeable and unfazed by his nephew’s rapidly growing contempt. On the other side of it, Umar-Khitab’s performance of the young prince injects a capricious energy into the schemes against his uncle; he ignites an irreverent, manic fire as Hamlet feigns madness to taunt the façade upheld by those around him.
The court politics of Elsinore, complete with newspaper headlines and secret-service agents, serve as a fitting backdrop to explore the familial tensions in a deeper way—especially as the Fortinbras storyline (about the nephew of the king of Norway, who was killed by Hamlet’s father) has been cut in this adaptation. Of course, there’s Hamlet’s grief—one standout scene comes when he encounters his father’s Ghost (played chillingly by Marcus Youssef) and they embrace tenderly before the spectre reveals Claudius’s betrayal, dooming Hamlet to a quest to avenge him.
Munish Sharma as Claudius and Jennifer Clement as Gertrude (with Christine Quintana as Osric in the background) in Bard on the Beach’s Hamlet. Photo by Tim Matheson
In an adaptation that is full of surprises, Drover also highlights the emotional bonds between other characters. Every scene between Ophelia and her brother Laertes (a moving Nathan Kay) is a touching display of sibling affection. Laertes’s advice to his sister to steer clear of Hamlet reads more as sincere worry than patriarchal stifling. Even their manipulative father Polonius, portrayed by a great Andrew Wheeler as a pompous old-school-academic type, joins in during an embrace as the family sees Laertes off to France.
The cast gives these relationships emotional depth, particularly in the way Jennifer Clement’s Gertrude and Kate Besworth’s Ophelia bring empathy and nuance to characters often considered underwritten in the original text.
As Gertrude, Clement crafts a compellingly layered performance. Initially appearing as an opportunistic power player, she reveals a warmer side as she gently cups her son’s face during one of his unhinged outbursts, or later cheers him on during a duel. She also shows Ophelia compassion, even if it comes too little, too late. That’s poignantly captured when Gertrude mourns the young woman’s end; watch the way she shoots a quick disapproving look at Claudius when he interrupts her mourning, more concerned about Hamlet’s potential outburst.
Besworth breathes humanity into the pure and dutiful Ophelia. Drover enhances that compassion by weaving in nonspeaking moments that paint a deepened connection with Hamlet, making her emotional breakdown after their breakup even more heartbreaking. Her subsequent descent into madness is, among many unexpected choices, accompanied by a short dance interlude to The Talking Heads’s Psycho Killer. (Brief dance sequences recur throughout the play, employing stylization and comedy to underscore the characters’ volatile states of mind against the supposed normalcy of everyone else.)
Drover’s production mines humour in the text at every opportunity, from musical interludes to Hamlet’s bitter irony and sometimes juvenile scorn. Clad in all black and a skull T-shirt, he flips off his uncle, runs from guards, or makes a “ba dum tss” gesture at the gravedigger’s deadpan quips. Rosencrantz (Aidan Correia) and Guildenstern (Ivy Charles) are characterized as opportunistic, wide-eyed intern types. The actors Hamlet employs to stage a story about murder and betrayal, looking to catch his uncle’s guilty reaction, are reimagined as folksy-hipster musicians (played by the talented Anton Lipovetsky and Christine Quintana). The pair perform a rock song with very on-the-nose lyrics, obviously penned by Hamlet.
Speaking of the music, composer and sound designer Mary Jane Coomber builds a score of discordant, droning, and haunting thriller-esque sounds that up the intrigue and fast-paced action. Gerald King’s lighting is simple, except in key moments when kaleidoscopic patterns fracture the set and the characters, or colourful disco lights animate dance sequences. The stylings, especially against Pam Johnson’s sobering library set, can sometimes be jarring, but they do accentuate the confusing moral architecture of Elsinore.
In Drover’s hands, this modern-day adaptation of Hamlet becomes emotionally accessible without sacrificing the classic’s enduring impact, and even brings some new, darkly comedic flourishes out to play. 
Marcus Youssef as the Ghost and Nadeem Phillip Umar-Khitab as Hamlet. Photo by Tim Matheson
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