’OMLET

Saturday afternoon’s adventure in the big city was a journey in by train to go to the Royal Exchange Theatre to see the matinee performance of William Shakespeare’s  “Hamlet” as performed by Maxine Peake, because, in a break from tradition, although not for the first time, this was a Lady Hamlet (or ’omlet, as I like to call it.)

Perhaps “Lady Hamlet” wasn’t the best turn of phrase, but “Woman Hamlet” sounded odder still, and I know better than to refer to it as “Girl Hamlet” so it was the best option, I thought.

“But what’s wrong with just calling it ‘Hamlet’?” I hear you cry, which you would be quite right to do, but that would have been to ignore this production’s unique selling point in what is something of a departure for Manchester audiences in what has become something of a “hot ticket” for the Exchange which hasn’t put on a play I’ve actually felt like seeing in a year or three.

Anyway, with that little bit of gender bewilderment out of the way, I’d just like to point out that Maxine Peake’s performance is rather superb in this production which is also unusual in several other ways, not least in the lack of a skull during “that scene” and by using child actors to perform the crucial “play within a play” that turns the entire plot.

Amongst a generally excellent cast, there are stand-out performances by Gillian Bevan playing Polonia and a master-class in Shakespearean dialogue from the always wonderful John Shrapnel as both Claudius and the Ghost, the appearance of which is much enhanced by the simple and effective use of buzzing filament bulbs.

“Hamlet” is Shakespeare’s longest play, and one that is jam-packed with well-known phrases and sayings, and can run to well over four hours in its uncut form. As to deciding what ought to be cut, well, that is, of course, one of the Director’s biggest headaches, but this production was three hours long, with a two hour first part followed by another hour after the interval.

I will admit that I was struggling to keep my eyes open at some point about half way through the first section, not because of any dullness I the production, but because I’d not slept well the night before, and the warmth of the theatre was causing me to feel very drowsy.

Meanwhile, those “perchy” seats in the theatre itself have done awful things to my neck, and my legs were starting to ache “something rotten” after an hour or more of sitting still. Nevertheless, a swift interval Diet Coke seemed to perk me up a little, and the second half, the one containing some of the “greatest hits” of the Shakespeare canon, and an unexpected strip down to her underwear by Katie West playing poor mad Ophelia, fair rattled along to the inevitable tragic ending, one which traditionalists will be pleased to hear, still involved a bit of unhealthy rapier action.

So… Does the sex of the lead actor in “Hamlet” actually make any real difference to the play itself? Well, apart from the dynamics of certain father/mother/son relationships, and a certain amount of perhaps maddening frustration for Ophelia, to be honest with you, I stopped thinking about it very quickly, which probably means that there’s something in this notion of blind casting after all, despite any misgivings I may have previously held about such matters.

All-in-all then, a cracking afternoon’s theatre, only slightly marred by the sweary, shouty football fans on the train home, and the prospect of navigating my way home through streets packed with the horrors of the annual Lantern Parade, but that, as they say, is another story, and for this posting at least, “the rest is silence…”