William Shakespeare’s words intoxicate the ear, but they can quickly devolve into a mess of twisted tongues. Syracuse Stage’s production of ‘Hamlet,’ with its clarity and engaging visuals, cuts through the play’s inherent antiquity.

Syracuse Stage hosts ‘Hamlet,’ directed by Robert Moss, at the East Genesee Street theater almost daily until April 10. The play tells of the tragedy that befalls a Danish royal family, and skillfully trims and adapts the literary masterpiece.

A wedding ceremony bursts through the minimalist set to open the story, with Hamlet standing in disgust and dejection as his uncle and newly widowed mother celebrate their exchange of vows. Though this play cuts his expository scene, Hamlet’s father, the slain king, soon returns as a ghostly apparition and reveals that his death was no accident. It was the work of his brother, who poisoned him to steal his wife and kingdom.

The story weaves through Hamlet’s twisted love life and search for the true circumstances of his father’s demise. Murder and insanity litter his quest for vengeance, and – as all tragedies must – the play ends in confused and catastrophic bloodshed. The one character that survives even attempts suicide in the furor of the final scene.

Allen Fitzpatrick (King Claudius) and Tommy Schrider (Hamlet) succeed in this production because they transcend mere pronunciation – they understand what their words mean. They deliver their circumlocutory lines as if they’re common, and this clarity eases the burden of Shakespeare’s most poignant yet elusive passages. Hamlet’s ‘to be or not to be’ takes on a great significance in proper context. The famous phrase is his poetic contemplation of suicide.

Shakespeare wrote ‘Hamlet’ just after the turn of the 17th century, and the production wisely maintains the playwright’s dense yet renowned dialect. The costume design, however, represents a time much closer in history. The men spend most of the play in modern business attire, and Hamlet wears a trench coat, scarf and sweater. In his hasty escape from a murder scene, he’s reduced to white boxer-briefs. The wardrobe doesn’t match the language or the age – in fact, it bounces between genres and defies definition. But, except for the platform-heeled and Saran-wrapped ghost, it helps cut through some of Shakespeare’s muddier prose.

The costumes provide a visual map of loyalties in spite of their inconsistent anachronisms. The queen and king wear blinding white and brilliant red; the adviser’s family wears a regal purple. The young men dress to their prep-school roots, collars flipped up and neckties striped blue and gold. Hamlet’s all-black attire marks his ostracism and inner conflict. When two of his schoolmates turn treacherous, they reappear wrapped in red. They now take orders from the king.

Behind the harmony of Shakespeare’s words lies the play’s music, a dramatic but generic score that bellows from the pre-recorded depths of the theater’s speaker system. At first it expedites plot development, but as the story progresses the music’s merit fades. It persists long after the play establishes its tragic tone, and its monotony eventually detracts from the drama unfolding on stage. Where costume design subtly advances the plot, the music fails. It is sometimes garbled, often repetitive and always overpowering.

The anger, lust and deception that flow through each character explode into a sword fight for the bloody finale, which the production abbreviates to secure a two-and-a-half-hour running time. The tragic scene acts as a warning rather than a resolution; the last man standing decries the jealousy and violence that destroyed the royal family. An audience member, however, found solace in the misery. She insisted ‘Hamlet’ made her family look good. Her relatives only fight with words.

Published on March 15, 2004 at 12:00 pm