I Am Hamlet

In his production notes, adapter-director Lewis explains that he wants his Hamlet to “captivate the non-theatregoing as well as the Shakespeare purists and everyone in between.” It’s hardly surprising that he caters more to the former than the strict devotees. But even that lot should find Lewis’s revved-up high jinks reverent enough to the text. That is, if they can stomach the mash-up of pop-music montages.

The play touts itself as a modernization rooted in movement theater, but more than any of the staging choices, the soundtrack—which boasts Jon Brion, Smashing Pumpkins, some acid jazz—is the real deal-breaker. If a stage filled with red smoke and the sounds of Billy Corgan yelping about insomnia strike you as a mindless way to set a chaotic tone, this is not your evening. But if enjoyed simply as a spectacle—like an act you might see at a club—it’s a rousing intro.

Apart from employing character masks—which seems like an arbitrary choice—the use of the small ensemble’s actors in multiple roles works to the play’s advantage. And Hamlet, played here as a three-person collective (Stephen Louis Grush’s sensitive portrayal trumps the other two), is at once naive, angry and cynical. But Lewis’s cutting and pasting invariably gets messy (Ophelia’s death scene is hokey and long-winded), making Hamlet little more than a well-choreographed piece of pop.—Tim Lowery