Hamlet by Teatro La Plaza – Barbican Theatre, London

Writer and Director: Chela De Ferrari

His plays are eternal, his name a byword for high drama, his protagonists etched into common consciousness by centuries of performances. Shakespeare’s iconography – by force of pure popularity – reached saturation point long ago. To stand out from the rest, productions often attempt a new spin on a Shakespearian classic – a modern setting, a new angle, a musical rendition, for example. Few genuinely achieve something different. Teatro La Plaza succeeds where others have fallen – partly through a *very* loose interpretation of its source material, and partly because it uses Hamlet as a stepping stone to something more.

The premise: a cast of Peruvian actors with Down syndrome present their take on Hamlet, interspersed with musings on a life with their condition; what it means to play the Danish Prince; and how to pave their own path through a performance of perhaps the most famous play in the world.

Hamlet – the play – takes a backseat to the actors themselves, who choreograph their own soliloquies, play out their rehearsal process, and mix actor and character. The mantle of Hamlet is fluid, being passed seamlessly from one actor to the next, and soliloquies are shared rather than being reserved for one actor alone. It’s something between pastiche, parody and homage – the play never lets us know exactly which – but this blend of styles creates an original and compelling take on the original Shakespeare drama, without losing sight of its roots.

Expect raps, dance, cinema, on-stage videography, audience participation, personal narratives, and of course, a reliable mix of classic Shakespearean performance. Hamlet’s most loved scenes are certainly not neglected, and audiences can expect an eclectic (and potentially out-of-sequence) rendition of the sighting of the ghost, Ophelia’s death, the confrontation of Gertrude, the To Be or not To Be soliloquy, and, of course, The Mousetrap (made more metatheatrical than ever before via the medium of audience participation). Gone is the extraneous material, the padding, the filler scenes – this is Hamlet at its most streamlined, and with a lot more to boot.

But where this iteration of Hamlet particularly stands out is in its humanity and its humility. The role of the Danish Prince is often seen as the zenith of an on-stage acting career, and with this privilege comes an unacknowledged burden of living up to expectations. This implicit responsibility is tackled head-on: there is a particularly touching scene in which Hamlet is on the point of performing his most famous soliloquy when a screen in the background throws up every famous actor who has come before him – Olivier, Tennant, Branagh, Irving, McKellen. The point is clear: living up to these theatrical behemoths is an impossible task and an insurmountable mental burden for even the finest of actors. The cast interacts with this screen, shutting down these ghosts of the theatrical past, and proclaiming that this performance will be their own.

Likewise, when another actor attempts to imitate Laurence Olivier’s posturing and monologuing, the rest of the cast arrive on stage to remind him that he should be himself – there’s no point trying to best the spirits of the actors who have come before them. It’s a beautifully touching moment, reminding us in its own metatheatrical way that Hamlet’s attempts to live up to the ghost of his father are tragedy-inducing; we should not fall into the same trap.

The fact that the cast have Down syndrome is not sidelined or unspoken – it is embraced, flaunted, and discussed in some detail. The production itself states its intentions to give ‘centre stage’ to this charismatic ensemble, ‘when historically people living with Down syndrome have been relegated to the background’. And it is deeply true to this intention by not only using an entirely Down syndrome-inclusive cast, but also by addressing some of the stigmas and presumptions around Down syndrome.

At the start of the production, the cast steps forward to remind us to be tolerant: stutters, false starts and forgetfulness are to be embraced, not shamed. By drawing attention to these flaws, they become part of the production, forcing the audience to shift their expectations and remember that the cast is only human. With this in mind, parts of Hamlet – Ophelia’s isolation, Hamlet’s burden, the forbidden nature of their relationship – take on new meanings and interpretations.

This eclectic, eccentric mix is held together by a talented creative team, who use multiple mediums to ensure that the play is cohesive; for all its unexpected charm, Mirella Carbone’s choreography ensures that the performance feels rehearsed. Likewise, Dennis Hilario’s videography, Marvin Calle’s lighting and Jhosimar Sullon’s sound ensure that the screen behind the actors is more than just subtitle signage: it becomes an extension of the performance itself, with some particularly amusing scenes filmed live on camera and relayed to the big screen.

Together with a host of other creatives, they have moulded this production into a slick Shakespearian staging, which manages, at once, to echo the Bard’s vision, whilst also superimposing an additional message which somehow alters the way we see the script which came before it.

Runs until 27 April 2025

World tour continues at Brighton Festival 9-11 May 2025