Goodnight, Sweet Prince — A Hamlet Reveal, Starring Kenneth Branagh

You know that old joke that goes something like, “How much Hamlet is too much Hamlet?” The answer is: eh, Hamlet!

I didn’t say it was a funny or clever joke.

This week, having completed my reading and written summaries/amateur analysis bloggys of The Danish Play (a name no one has ever given it), I sat down to watch Kenneth Branagh’s 1996 film, Hamlet. I had to do my best by watching in snips and fidgets. I accomplished being able to watch, at bare minimum, 30 minute at a time. With a run time of 4 hours and 2 minutes, I had my work cut out for me.

I purchased the DVD a long, long, long time ago but it still had the cellophane on it this week. I know I’ve seen this film before, but it must have been on HBO or laserdisc maybe. (I’m kidding about the laserdisc).

With the play fresh in my mind, I had a fair advantage going in. I knew the general story (as you can read all about in this week’s earlier bloggys), was familiar with the stunning language, and freshly cut by the barbs and slung arrows of the many tragic plot points. What I was not prepared for was how much I would be doubly affected by the superior acting on screen.

Branagh’s Hamlet

As director, Branagh captures the essence of a confined theater setting by confining his scenes to (mainly) a magnificent throne room, various other rooms in the castle, and the surrounding parameter. It is amazing how, when watching the film, I found it easy to imagine myself in a theater! Maybe even the Globe! Branagh pulls off this seamless trick by using many uncut, rolling shots. As Shakespeare spends much time on in-depth and long soliloquies and conversations, Branagh stays with the words, more often than not. The focus here is, of course, the acting, but also the dialogue that makes the performances. That said… Wow. I’ve seen Branagh as the main character in many of his own film adaptations, but this one takes the cake.

What can be said of Kenneth Branagh’s embodiment of the Danish prince? He is a tour de force in the confined palace spaces and a whirlwind of passion and energy on the grounds. Using dozens of mirrored doors to surround the throne room, Branagh delivers the “To be or not to be” speech to his reflection. It is the perfect device to get to the heart of the melancholic, introspective, all encompassing soliloquy.

In an introduction to the film (DVD extra) Branagh mentions that he has been studying Hamlet since he was 12, and it shows. The actor/director does not pretend to be Hamlet, he is Hamlet. He embodies what is probably the most challenging character in the history of theater with, what appears to be, the ease of a man just being himself. That’s not to say that Branagh is a brooding murderer always on the brink of madness. I don’t know the man but I’m guessing he’s more stable than that. After all, he can play Hamlet.

The difficulty of being the Danish prince lies not necessarily in his supposed madness, but in his ever-changing moods and demeanor. He can turn from introspective philosopher to vengeful conniver, sometimes right in middle of a sentence or thought. Interpreting Hamlet’s core emotions at any given moment can be more trying than getting a ghost to talk to you. All these nuances and more are masterfully handled in Branagh’s able chops.

We Three Kings

King Claudius — Oh we’ll get to you, you snake!

First, I want to talk about Hamlet’s father — the King whose name escaped me in the reading of the play. In my post reading research, I easily found that HIS NAME WAS KING HAMLET! Um, duh. Not that it matters much for the enjoyment of his character but it’s an amusing oversight I don’t mind admitting.

When we are first introduced to King Hamlet, he’s dead and ghostly! In the reading, he makes for a spooky specter in the eyes of Prince Hamlet, Horatio, and various guards. In Branagh’s film, the King’s ghost is a monolith of doom and terror. He floats, towering overhead, delivering his accusatory and dismal news. Branagh’s dead King is truly a thing of nightmares; a terrifying, unblinking spirit that would drive any son mad with the urge to avenge him.

OK Claudius, I’m ready for you now.

You know what I’d like to see? A little bit of history between Claudius and King Hamlet. What drives a man to pour poison into his own brother’s ear? Was it for the power of the throne or the love of Gertrude that drove you to the most foul deed, Claudius? Mess it worth your brief reign and romance?

Claudius has a lion’s share of dialogue throughout the play and a lot of it is internal monologue. Though even with all of it, I never understood his motivations to be anything more than face value. Maybe that’s all there is to this villain. He uses his poisons, his snake tongue, and treachery to further himself in life. As for redeemable qualities, I see none.

When it comes to Branagh’s choice of actor for Claudius, I think he could have done better. The guy who plays the damnable King in the film is hateable sure, but he still maintained a pretty face (for an older man) and I wasn’t buying his shifty eyes. He was far too “obvious” for my tastes. Does that make sense? I’d give Derek Jacobi a 7 out of 10 for his performance. Yeah, I just looked him up. Turns out, the guy is a seasoned theater actor and has a bunch of Shakespeare credits to his name. Now I feel bad. Maybe he employs a commanding presence on the stage, one that just didn’t perform well for me on film.

Is that all three kings? Who are we missing? Oh yes, Fortinbras himself. The man so nice they named him once. Look, I don’t have much to say about this guy so I’ll keep it brief. Thus far in my Shakespeare experience, I’ve fallen short when it comes to understanding the fine particulars of wars, nations, armies, commanders, politics, etc. It’s unfortunate because a lot of Shakespeare rides on this stuff.

From what I gathered, Fortinbras of Norway is a bullheaded, take no prisoners kinda guy. He invades and conquers Poland, but that’s not nearly good enough for him. So he marches forth into Denmark and arrives at the exact opportune moment to take the throne: after the slaughterfest to end all slaughterfests. Go ahead and take a moment to look up “impeccable timing” in the dictionary and you’ll see a picture of Fortinbras. Oh wait, actually you need a copy of the “Just Kidding, Do You Like My Dumb Jokes” Dictionary. It’s on sale now at a FakenBooks near you.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead!

I think there’s another play that goes by this same name. <Googles> Yup!

These characters, the Boba Fetts of the Hamlet universe, bug me to no end. If ever a guy needed his childhood friends for love and understanding, it is Hamlet. These two knuckleheads show up and offer their old friendship to the prince but are really just spies for King Claudius. The closest unlikely pair of crockpot dingleberries that come to mind are Statler and Waldorf. But at least they have a balcony from which to spit their jibes. The Guildencrantz Boyz are more suited for backstabbing from the front row. Holy crap, this metaphor slithered away from me fast.

In a nutshell, R&G are not for me! I actually laughed out loud (LOLed for the millennials) when it was announced as a toss away sidebar that they were killed in England. As it turns out, Hamlet abandoned his childhood pals on the ship when it was attacked by pirates. And he had no qualms about doing so.

Speaking of pirates… this play has pirates! Who knew? Granted, they appear offstage and on the high seas (where pirates tend to sail), but still it’s a super cool tidbit I’d never known until this reading.

Gentle Horatio

I really did not set out to write this bloggy with the intention of digging into every character. I think I’ll skip Polonious, Laertes, and Queen Margaret. Though they are all important and have their parts to play, there’s only so much one can discuss in this limited (infinite scroll) space. That said, omigosh Horatio!

This guy gets all my respect and admiration. A friend to the bitter end, Horatio is a scholar and a gentleman. He stays with Hamlet, even in his darkest moments. And he gives sound advice, observing and analyzing all angles of any given situation. Not to mention, he’s a world class listener and his patience knows no bounds. Imagine being friends with the self-absorbed, possibly crazy, borderline existential, vengeance driven zealous egomaniac that is Hamlet?

— Hey buddy, do you wanna go ride the horses into the country tomorrow?

— What a thing is a horse! So equine in stature, ever attempting to perfect the gallop, he struts and strides his long, sultry torso across the Elysian field of scattered hoof steps past, flying toward some impossible future!

— Sooo is that a yes?

Horatio, the quintessential homey, even goes as far as to be willing to drink any remaining poison to join Hamlet in death. It is only when Hamlet tells him to check himself before he wrecks himself, that Horatio agrees to be the last man standing to tell the tragic tale.

Second fiddle to no one, Horatio is first in my heart. Because, you know, as mesmerizing as it is to watch Hamlet own the stage, the boy’s got issues.

Ophelia Undone

Kate Winslet’s portrayal of Ophelia in Kenneth Branagh’s film shifted my thinking on Shakespeare’s heroine. Can we call her a heroine? Why not? It’s my party and I’ll label haphazardly, as I want to.

When I read Hamlet this month, I was surprised to find her in a minimal amount of scenes. I was unable (given the source material) to get a good stance on her character. Again, like wishing I could know more of Claudius’ past, I felt having a glimpse into Ophelia’s past also might have helped. But where would you put it? It is, as I have stated in some previous bloggy, a perfect play as is. Except for maybe Shakespeare’s portrayal of this poor young, wronged girl.

She is in love, aye. And she loves a complicated man, to put it mildly. But what else are we given? That she is fragile and prone to madness herself? Is this what draws Hamlet to her? Then why does he cast her aside? Why does he make her look the fool (and slut) in front of the entire court (during the play within the play) and later via a letter read by Polonius (her father)?

For whatever it’s worth, to me, Ophelia is the most tragic of all the characters in that, she never had a fighting chance. No one saw her struggling. Or if they did, they were so concerned with the supposed lunacy of the Danish Prince to bother with her.

I wish I had more to say about Ophelia. Maybe I need more distance from the play to have a better grip on her being. Was her sole purpose to further draw Hamlet down the worsening spiral? I do believe he loved her. And I do believe he was a horse’s ass for what he did to her. Because make no mistake, Hamlet himself is the cause of her death. Not her madness. Not the poisoned state of Denmark. Not the loss of her father (though also, ahem, killed by Hamlet). Not her incapable, bendy, breaky woman’s brain. That’s not a thing. Nor is her place in the world at all. Shakespeare wrote her, it seems, to further foil his protagonist. As if Hamlet needed another reason to lose himself to his inner rage and demons.

I don’t know. I just feel so sorry for her. She didn’t even get an onstage death.

R.I.P. Ophelia. We hardly knew ye.

Speak Hamlet’s Language To The Sorrowful End

One last thing before I go — I may be prejudiced when it comes to Branagh’s film because it is the closest thing I can get to to watching Shakespeare performed live these days. With three kids under the age of 5 (preach!), I’m lucky I can find any time to even read for my own pleasure. And so, I am very thankful for the novelty of motion pictures. I have a rare feeling that this exciting innovation called film may just have the pluck to have some staying power.

I should probably seek out a movie to coincide with each Shakespeare play I read, but I’m already behind and… well, I’ll take it one at a time. I do want to say though, that watching the words come to life is truly a thing of unparalleled beauty. Oftentimes, when I’m reading Shakespeare, one (I) get easily frustrated. I may plow through pages and pages without getting a firm understanding of what is happening. This has a great deal to do with the fact that Shakespeare has planted sparse to zero stage directions, leaving nearly everything to the reader and/or director to interpret for actions. Let’s not mince our own words though, the true mud of the matter is the words themselves. Shakespeare wrote a billion years ago. That’s a fact, look it up. Times have changed so much that his language is akin to a near-dead one. In modern day Earth, people don’t talk like they did back then. Which leaves a helluva lot of guesswork for the average Bry.

I’m not here making excuses and I apologize if it sounds like I am. I do love the gentle and ratchety flow of iambic pentameter. When coupled with Shakespeare’s uncanny ability to dance a quill across a parchment in seamless fashion, a reader can’t help but swoon over some of his prose. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark is one of his finest examples of tragic poetry. And Hamlet himself is just an angel of uncouth wisdom and majesty. Despite his many, many flaws, Hamlet exudes perhaps the most brilliant soliloquies ever writ.

If you’ve ever been on the fence about Shakespeare, I urge you to read this play. Although if you’ve read this far, I can’t imagine you haven’t. Because I spoiled the crap out of it. Oops. Spoiler alert, don’t read the above bloggy if you haven’t yet read Hamlet. There we go. I’m covered.

I don’t have any fancy way to end this. Oh! Did I mention Robin Williams plays Osric in Branagh’s film adaptation? No? Damnit! Well he does. And he’s Robin.

Is this an ending? Close enough.

Next Month in the Shakespeare Challenge

In December, I’ll be reading Henry IV, Part I. Does that mean there’s a Part II? Probably. In fact, there are seven (count them) SEVEN plays for various Henrys. Which means I’ll be up to my neck in Henry til June.

Bring a friend. It’s gonna get HENRY AF up in here.

Can’t wait for your next fix?
Eager for more amateur analysis of the Bard’s greatest works?
Head on over to my Shakespeare page to wet your Willie!