Jude Law is Hamlet

Eu já mencionei algumas vezes que Jude Law estava fazendo o papel de Hamlet no teatro londrino, e que aliás estava tendo repercussões por conta de algumas cenas de nu.Provavelmente, não poderia fazer a crítica da peça, porque não fui a cidade e não assisti ao espetáculo Ainda! Infelizmente! Mas, em breve, quem sabe.... Até lá... consegui no site oficial de Shakespeare , a crítica da peça. Leia, e opinem sobre a atuação deste ator. Ok? Let's go! link do site: http://shakespeare.com/blog/


It’s been over a week now since we saw Jude Law play Hamlet on Broadway. Before I let the experience slip into that oblivion from whose bourn no memory returns – beyond what I’ve already recorded in a couple of tweets – let me leave a fuller trace here.

As mentioned in a previous post, Rosalind and I had thought of returning to London [view of the theater] to see Jude in the Donmar production – but then discovered it was coming to New York after visiting Elsinore in between, and so decided to catch it closer to home. London on such short notice was always somewhat fantastical.

We found out about the run early, and secured front-row tickets [view from our seats] – on the extreme left, all by ourselves, with aisles on both sides – great for getting out at intermission. We were so close that when the action brought Jude down stage right, it almost seemed as if he were playing just for us – so close, that several times he even locked eyes with me, and seemed to scrutinize my face to gauge the audience reaction.

Whenever he did, he saw me lost in wonder for the most part, amazed at the performance he was giving. This Hamlet is Jude Law’s own personal star turn – and he not only knows it, he also proved himself quite up to it throughout. I’ve never seen such an energetic and intelligent Hamlet – with that energy manifested not merely in raw movement across the stage, but in the fire of instant comprehension flashing in his eyes, and the precisely nuanced way he tears into each phrase. Jude looks and sounds like he knows exactly why he’s saying every single word he says, with none of the usual glossing over the difficult parts and relying on rote recitation than nearly every other Hamlet I’ve ever seen has sometimes relied on.

Unfortunately Jude’s strength was also the weakness of this production. All the other important characters were minimized – or in the case of Ophelia, left to an actress not up to task (she played the friend in Lost in Austen). This was especially noticeable in the case of Gertrude, whose own personal struggle – in some ways even more interesting than Hamlet’s – was given shorter and shorter shrift as the play went on (she starred in the second part of The Jewel in the Crown). Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, in contrast, emerged as more major characters than usual, thanks to the passionate intimacy Jude lavishes on them in their scenes together.

The only other Hamlet I’ve seen who can hold a candle to Jude here is Kenneth Branagh in his film version. And it’s a pity he couldn’t direct Jude in this production, as originally planned (Branagh had to bow out due to a previous commitment to direct the movie Thor for Marvel comics…). His replacement was not up to the task.

The director first begins to fail Jude in the “To be or not to be” soliloquy. One way Jude helps communicate the text’s nuances to the audience is through supplementary gestures – he almost mimes the part as he speaks it. I’m not sure if this was Jude’s or the director’s idea, but it works out well until he reaches that object infamous among poor students quizzed on the play, the “bare bodkin:”

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin?

When Jude reaches that infamous phrase, he mimes slashing his wrist – and there this artifice fails him for the first time.

[Jude soliloquizing. Photo by Johan Persson, pulled from and linked back to the production website. I'll take it down if they ask - but why would they?] What anyone with the hubris to direct Hamlet should know – and should make sure their Hamlet knows – is that this soliloquy, though popularly misconstrued as a meditation on suicide, is not about suicide per se. Ever since he met the ghost and found an object for his anger, Hamlet has had no interest in committing suicide – “his affections do not that way tend,” any more than they do to lovesickness for Ophelia.

Rather this soliloquy is about Hamlet’s realization that for him to take open and violent revenge on Claudius would be, in effect, a kind of suicide – and like suicide would be a crime not so much against man, as against God, the king being God’s anointed representative on earth according to the reigning political theory of the time. (”The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing…of nothing” came through loud and clear this time, thanks to the emphasis this production lends to Hamlet’s interactions with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. “Is thy Union here? Follow my mother” at the end didn’t fare so well, alas – but I suppose I’m the only one alive today who fully appreciates its significance.)

What Hamlet is saying here is, in contemporary terms, more like:

Why would anyone take shit from others -
His boss, jerks, women who don’t want him, judges,
Bureaucrats, rivals who get the promotion
He deserves – when he could just pull out a
Switchblade and settle the score?

Or even, given the political context:

– when he could just strap on a Bomb and get even at last?

That’s why there are still suicide overtones here. For Hamlet knows that when you assassinate a crowned king with his men at arms standing round about, you’re not going to live to see tomorrow. You might as well just blow yourself up – “hoist with his own petard” as he says in a related passage. And this is only the beginning of the director’s failure to mine the rich vein of “se offendendo” thematics in the play – the ways Ophelia, Hamlet, even Gertrude all kill themselves in ambiguous “self-(de)(of)fense,” thus fulfilling Aristotle’s dictum that the tragic emotions of pity and fear arise from our judgement that the scapegoat is, in the end, katharos (innocent).

But enough of what I would do if ever I got the chance to direct this play – or better, was brought in as a consultant to bat ideas around with the director and cast (like Hamlet himself, that is my dream job. Producers take note: my fee is very reasonable). You all would probably rather hear about the most important scene of this production – the scene at the stage door after the play.

For those of you who don’t know about this cherished Broadway tradition – and if you don’t, you’d better before you go – after every play or musical on the great white way, the actors greet their fans on the sidewalk outside the stage door, where they chat informally, sign programs, and pose for photos with them. [Jude from across the street]

Or at least, that’s what happens when a major movie or TV star isn’t involved. When it’s Jude Law doing Hamlet, all the other actors slink away to little or no fanfare while fans crowd the barricades, security people hover, and the big black SUV pulls up, ready for a quick getaway if trouble arises. Then the entire sidewalk is blocked off, the fans in the first holding pen scramble for position, and at last Jude emerges, alternating between the barricades on either side to do all the usual stuff but chat casually with fans – which given the screaming would be impossible. [Jude signing the program before ours]

I can understand the security – indeed, it seemed rather light, given the circumstances. After all, Jude’s ex-girlfriend Sienna Miller was starring in After Miss Julie just down the street – talk about “the pangs of despised love” – and who knows what might have happened if she decided to show up? Bodkins – “a long hairpin, usually with an ornamental head” – are quite out of fashion.

Fortunately the situation passed uneventfully this time, and we escaped with our playbill signed by this Hamlet’s only star. [our signed program] It was well worth the risk and effort – I highly recommend the production. But you’d better get yourself to Broadway before Pearl Harbor Day – when this spectacular production blows itself up – if you want to see it. Line up early for standing room tickets if you need to. You won’t be disappointed. I swear.