Shakespearean theater is truly intended to be heard and seen, not read. Studying The Bard’s work in school was enriching, but lacked the true directness of the story, almost like reading a Beethoven score rather than listening to a symphonic performance. It’s when the words are not just spoken, but spoken by people who truly know how to annunciate them—and how to depict the characters—that you hear the voices of centuries past, which have hardly aged in their intelligence and poignancy.
PCPA Theaterfest has a long tradition of performing Shakespeare’s works, when not imbuing more contemporary works with the company’s signature charm, always including at least one classic Shakespearian play in each season. The company has always allowed directors the freedom to choose the era in which each classic will be set, whether during, after, or even before Shakespeare’s lifetime. This production of Hamlet, directed by Roger DeLaurier, is set in our contemporary era, with kingly crowns replaced by three-piece suits, and turrets and towers switched for a minimalist set.
The set is at once classic and contemporary, with three archways supported by Roman columns and six tall mirrors that move around throughout the play to give the sense of different settings, from a regal hall to a sunny veranda. The mirrors are warped in funhouse fashion, casting the likenesses of the actors oddly askew, and reminding the audience that everything is distorted in this very cerebral world—nothing is as it seems.
PCPA’s fantastic-as-always lighting department works wonders with these mirrors, pointing different colored lights at them and casting beautiful patterns on the floor: blue, which conveys the coldness on the ramparts when the ghost appears; or a rich golden yellow of celebration when we meet the full ensemble of characters at the wedding party of Claudius and Gertrude, played by Mark Booher and Kitty Balay, respectively.
Of course, Hamlet is not celebrating, but rather is still dressed in black and mourning his father’s recent death. Quinn Mattfeld, though young, is a seasoned PCPA veteran, and is more than well suited for the iconic role. From his first utterances, Hamlet’s word play is as powerful as his rapier strokes in the final scene, and the combative dialogue is met with the stalwart power of Booher’s Claudius and Balay’s Gertrude. In his monologues, Mattfeld reveals Hamlet’s inner turmoil and struggle, embodying raw rage at times, which shatters any stereotype of Shakespearean theater being boring or stuffy. And when Hamlet begins his flirting with insanity, Mattfeld wholly embraces the humor in it, giving us a complete character whose anger seems all the more serious.
Personally, this was my first time seeing PCPA Artistic Director Mark Booher take the stage as an actor for the company. I’m used to his calm and effervescently positive demeanor as the face of the theater company, and not accustomed to seeing him take the role of a murderous villain. His towering figure offers a very visual foil to Mattfeld as Hamlet, and illustrates the power young Hamlet is up against. But as Claudius’ calmness slowly erodes under Hamlet’s biting words and schemes, the darker sides of both characters emerge. The lack of royal attire augments the play’s themes of power, deception, and revenge.
Much of Hamlet’s inner struggles are linked to his mother—a favorite theory of Freudian deconstructionists—and captured in the infamous line, “Frailty, thy name is woman.” Balay’s Gertrude is reserved and calm at first, but Hamlet’s apparent madness shakes her from fresh marital bliss, and while Ophelia serves as a hopeful distraction, the ultimate truth nags at her, too. The confrontation between Hamlet and Gertrude in the second act proves terrifying, and most of the fear is masterfully conjured by Balay. Hamlet is boiling over with hateful vengeance, and one couldn’t help but be worried for Gertrude.
Polonius, along with his son, Laertes, and daughter, Ophelia (Peter S. Hadres, George Walker, and Sierra Wells, respectively), are all unwitting casualties in Hamlet’s vengeful quest. The filial bond among the three is played well, making their demise even more tragic. Conservatory student Wells toys with Ophelia’s decent into madness, which is rife with gender politics. Walker delivers much in his portrayal of Laertes, from his towering rage to his rapier-wielding and subsequent last-ditch alliance with Hamlet.
Though I think four centuries is a long enough statute of limitations on spoiler alerts, I’ll forgo giving away the iconic last scene, only to say that PCPA’s efforts to produce the best known of Shakespeare’s theatrical pieces comes to a head at that moment. This classic-yet-modern stage piece is imbued with the energy of the artists involved, giving it a new, crackling alchemy of which only performers of this caliber are capable.
Arts Editor Joe Payne chooses “to be.” Contact him at jpayne@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Feb 20-27, 2014.
