Right from the start of the play, where a queen has effectively disinherited her son by marrying the brother-in-law who less than two months earlier had surreptitiously murdered her husband the king, it would be fair to describe the Kingdom of Denmark as a sinking ship. Director Rupert Goold’s new RSC production takes the analogy perhaps one step too far by literally presenting the court as an ocean liner negotiating treacherous waters in pre-Great-War 1912. No prizes for guessing the Titanic reference, though I was disappointed by the absence of an iceberg – unless you care to take the analogy a step further and see the arrival of student prince Hamlet as the catalyst for inevitable disaster. The play is necessarily shortened by this setting (it would be difficult to show any scenes that take place outside the court, and the climactic arrival of Fortinbras’ Norwegian army has simply to be forgotten) but even so the logistics of characters suddenly arriving at court does presuppose a fleet of tug-boats ferrying them from unknown locations. So logic had best be abandoned, which is fine as this version creates a convincingly fraught and increasingly irrational environment of doubt, mistrust, self-deception and madness, both assumed and absorbed. As Hamlet Ralph Davis felt more 21st than early 20th century in attitude and appearance, which hammered home the notion that we’re all standing on the edge of darkness all the time. Brusque, damaged and pushed beyond the limits of his reason this was no languid, sensitive aristocrat but a timelessly potent exploration of an individual pushed into disastrous circumstances and forced to make decisions that can’t possibly improve anything. Great physical presence, especially in those moments of camaraderie he shared with Horatio and with the troupe of travelling players (compellingly tight and powerful in all their actions, especially Ian Hughes as the Player King.) Apart from some gratingly unnecessary accents the performances were all convincing, especially the unexpected likeability of Richard Cant as Polonius and the dramatic disintegration of Poppy Miller as Gertrude. The set was strikingly designed, though scenes such as the burial of Ophelia did stretch ingenuity, but irrespective of setting it was Hamlet’s revelation of interior pain eating away at exterior capacity that will make this production  resonantly memorable.

Gail-Nina Anderson