"Hamlet" evokes conflicting feelings, such as you might have if you heard a dirge played at a wedding. Friday's opening of Shakespeare's most iconic tragedy was especially poignant because this production, set in the 1940s with profound clarity and inexorable pathos by director Joe Dowling, is freighted with the weight of all kinds of history.
The opening of this play, about a prince visited by the ghost of his murdered father who wants his son to avenge his killing, was the last drama at the Guthrie Theater in its soon-to-be-vacated Vineland Place home. Spirits of performances past swirled in that ether as well as the stain of the sweat, tears and neuroses of thousands of actors and a community that conspired and dreamed with them.
Nor is this just any playhouse. When the theater opened in 1963 with Tyrone Guthrie's staging of this same tragedy, it became both cradle and catalyst of America's nonprofit professional theater movement.
How can any acting company give a performance that honors so many disparate expectations? It is a show, after all, not a funeral service for the building or a séance to summon the dead who must be quick in that place or even a psychoanalysis of a country led by illegitimate rulers, even as it functions as all of these things.
The actors at the Guthrie exhibit the very even pacing of Dowling.
They just let it be in this stately staging, which is faithful to Shakespeare's words.
George Bernard Shaw quipped that youth is wasted on the young, a sentiment that many great directors and actors have shared about the role of Hamlet. Even though he is a college student, he is often depicted by some stage eminence (all returning students, I guess).
When he first comes out to play the Danish prince at the Guthrie, Santino Fontana, 24, evokes the specter of whiny "Friends" star David Schwimmer. He was sometimes a bit too playful, even raising his voice at the end of non-questions to sound like a valley girl. That contemporary vocal shift, plus hand gestures that explained his words and thoughts, made me question whether he has sufficient gravitas. The issues Hamlet confronts, after all, are not just a parlor game (even if lighting designer Matthew Reinert frames the floor like a chessboard), but matters of murder and of state.