Hamlet – Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford upon Avon

Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Rupert Goold

Shakespeare’s great tragedy returns to the Royal Shakespeare Company for the first time since 2016 with an all-star cast and a naval twist in Rupert Goold’s masterful production.

The concept is thrilling from the outset – this Hamlet is set entirely within the confines of a ship; the Danish town of Elsinore swapped for the bow and belly of the naval vessel which takes its name instead. There is a huge amount of Titanic-inspired imagery here; from setting the action of the piece on the 14th April 1912 (the day the Titanic sank), and witnessing officers pull guns on male passengers attempting to board lifeboats meant for women and children, to watching passengers don white lifejackets and cling desperately to the bow of the ship as it fully tilts at an almost 45-degree angle.

In another bold move, Goold truncates the timeframe of the piece, so the story unfolds over mere hours, as opposed to days and weeks – a choice that Shakespeare purists might frown at, but one that works exceptionally well to give the play a punchy drive and pace that grips from start to finish. The use of a digital clock at regular intervals to show the passage of time works well, though the decision not to have the clock display 2.20am at the play’s close feels like a missed opportunity, with all care that has clearly been taken to include such striking imagery in a nod to the Titanic.

This production has a truly cinematic quality to it: it uses technology and lighting (Jack Knowles) to create the sense of a high-stakes adventure on the ocean that enhance the text and performances rather than overwhelming them. A case of ‘style over substance’ this is not.

Akhila Krishnan’s moody and atmospheric video design beautifully secures the sense of place, with stormy vistas and churning waters the backdrop to Es Devlin’s absolutely inspired see-saw stage design for the good ship Elsinore. This lends the action a palpably unstable quality (both figuratively and literally), and the ship is almost a character in and of itself – pitching and raging against the murderous nature of its passengers as the sea broils and foams amidst the chaos unfolding on deck.

In the title role, Luke Thallon is exceptional – his is a young Hamlet soaked in grief, petulant and utterly emotionally devastated, which gives way to a blazing fury that sharpens throughout the action into a rapier’s point aimed squarely at Claudius (Jared Harris). Thallon’s staccato delivery of the lines – and his subversion of the traditional rhythm of Shakespeare’s verse to drift and drawl in the manner of losing one’s trail of thought – feels a bit jarring at first but it soon begins to feel like we’re actually hearing these famous words spoken entirely anew for the very first time. This is not Luke Thallon simply reciting Shakespeare – it is a breathless, heady performance, accompanied by physical tics, as Hamlet is actively haunted throughout the play by his father’s ghost (an outstanding Anton Lesser). It is an inspired piece of casting (Charlotte Sutton), and the decision to have Lesser portray not only Hamlet’s father but also the First Player is a masterstroke that truly drives home that this is a manifestation of young Hamlet’s grief-fueled insanity.

Jared Harris’ performance as Claudius is relatively subdued for the majority of the play until the facade shatters upon watching a reenactment of his brother’s murder, a plot orchestrated by his nephew, and his brutal malevolence and true savagery is revealed. The play within a play is beautifully performed by Lesser and the ensemble, utilising masques and opera to chilling effect. Nancy Carroll is superb as the bewildered and devastated Gertrude, while Nia Towle’s Ophelia is achingly sad, a performance made all the more affecting thanks to Elliot Levey’s hugely endearing and witty performance as Polonius.

This is an exceptionally bold and stylish production, helmed by a superb ensemble cast, and headed by a star turn from Luke Thallon, which truly makes this a Hamletto remember. A must see.

Runs until 29 March 2025