THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, February 11, 1996 TAG: 9602100057
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E2 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Theater review
SOURCE: BY MAL VINCENT, THEATER CRITIC
LENGTH: Medium: 68 lines
A THOUGHTFUL, traditional and highly ambitious production of Shakespeare's ``Hamlet'' is currently on view at Virginia Stage Company, delivering, on cue, the promised murder, mystery and madness. One could have asked, too, for a good dose of passion.
While there is much to admire in the technical aspects of this handsome production, this ``Hamlet'' never really comes alive until the final, bloody duel.
It's almost as if the production needed blood to prove it was alive.
The title role is among the more demanding in theater, but at the same time it is blessedly open to interpretation. Given the complexities of Hamlet's madness vs. contrivance, weakness vs. decisiveness and rashness vs. introspection, the role is deceptively foolproof. The universal nature of the play suggests that, technical prowess aside, there is no ``wrong'' way to play this part. On a purely psychological level, it is a new evening every time out.
It is important, though, that every Hamlet put his stamp on the role. And so it has been, at least for the Hamlets one remembers from theater and film: Ralph Fiennes (passionate, fiery); Laurence Olivier (blond, cool, impeccably correct); Mel Gibson (athletic, boyish, naive); Kevin Kline (royal, wry, noble); Richard Burton (belligerent, full of rage); Michael Hunter, at Little Theater of Norfolk (youthful, brash); Nicol Williamson (reckless, unpredictable); Richard Chamberlain (handsome, buoyant).
One could sum up the performance of David McCann as: meek, introspective, graceful.
McCann is surely an earnest and concerned Hamlet, but he is hardly one who would go for the jugular. He is more diverted than obsessed.
The other-worldly nature of the production is set up by the somewhat unconventional way the early ghost scene is played. Rather than having Hamlet struck with awe, fear or rage, this version has him enveloped in his father's ghostly cloak - as if he perhaps dreamed the imagery. This may, then, be an existential drama, taking place in Hamlet's mind. Hamlet may be an Oedipal figure lost in Freudian gloom.
Perhaps so, but old-fashioned revenge is a livelier motivation.
McCann achieves a leisurely grace in his portrayal that speaks admirably of his commitment to the role. During his soliloquoies, however, he seems intent upon winning a prize for elocution. The inner turmoil is intermittent.
The best performance of the evening is that of Canada's Deborah Kipp, who makes Hamlet's mother a refreshingly strong and forceful woman. It's a change from the usual reading. She handles the language with crisp brittleness.
Connor Trinneer is a boyish and hot-headed Laertes. Ed Hyland, in playing the garrulous Polonius, clearly knows the difference between playing boring and being boring. Shelley Delaney is a sassy Ophelia.
Brett Porter, however, is too imposing a physical presence to suggest the conniving weakness of Claudius. Rather than the usurper, he seems quite royal. And it really doesn't make sense to have the fatherly ghost and the villain played by the same actor.
On the technical side, only Susan Mickey's somewhat baggy-kneed tights could be faulted. Dex Edwards' wood-hewn set, complete with revolving scenery that gives a cinematic movement to the proceedings, is outstanding. Peter Carlson's percussion-based original music adds a proper touch of tension, and Kenton Yeager's lighting adds variation.
Director Charlie Hensley has concocted a thoroughly palpable but not intense ``Hamlet'' that is conventional in the best sense of the word. by CNB