PACING PROBLEMATIC IN LTVB'S

I HATE HAMLET

Theater Babe Says:  Go . . . Because How Often Can You See a "Real" Duel??

There are some notable moments in the Little Theatre of Virginia Beach's production of I Hate Hamlet – and the duel is BIG fun.  In general, however, the show suffers from its ponderous pace and desultory direction and never quite lives up to its considerable potential.

I Hate Hamlet begins with the relocation of television star Andrew Rally from Los Angeles to New York City after his series was canceled.  At the urging of his realtor, Felicia Dantine, he moves into the apartment of the late, great Shakespearean actor, John Barrymore.  Despite his personal misgivings, Andrew accepts the title role in Shakespeare in the Park's production of Hamlet, to the delight of his girlfriend, Deirdre, and his agent, Lillian – and the utter mystification of his friend, Gary, who periodically flies in from L.A. in an attempt to convince Andrew to return and sign on to Gary's lucrative but tasteless new television series.  Andrew is conflicted and uncertain he is capable of carrying the monumental role of Hamlet, and is on the brink of calling it off when the ghost of John Barrymore appears, explaining that he is there to mentor Andrew and that he cannot return to the other side until Andrew has performed the part.

The set, designed by Jason Martens, is beautiful and gives the director ample room for creative blocking with its twin staircases that each possess a mid-level landing, and a second floor that runs the length of the stage (although it is peculiar that -- based on the dialogue -- the only door on the top level appears to lead both to the bedroom and directly to the roof).  In the first act, most of the furniture is shrouded in dust covers, but when they are removed to reveal the underlying antiques, the effect is an elegant room worthy of inclusion in the Biltmore Estate.

Director Joan Patterson chooses not to take advantage of the opportunities presented by the set, and the vast majority of the show is played on the mainstage.  Occasionally, an actor wanders up one staircase, across the second level and down the other but the movement is aimless and appears to be motivated by nothing other than some vague recognition that the two-level set should be utilized.  Because the blocking does not put the substantial set to better use, the actors are frequently stranded downstage center in a limited amount of space, which often makes their collective performance seem stilted. 

As Andrew, Greg Dragas does a good job of conveying the angst that the character feels in assuming the daunting task of playing Hamlet.  His diction is laudably clear, and he is handsome and appealing so we believe his Andrew could have been a successful television actor reminiscent of George Clooney in the early days of E.R.  There is, however, a sameness about his performance, both in the measured delivery of his lines and the emotions he evinces – there is no discernable distinction, for example, between Andrew's trepidation about playing Hamlet and his dismay that his girlfriend remains perennially chaste – that is insufficient to drive the story forward.  Because Andrew's dialogue is the pivot around which the plot turns, the pace drags.

Brian Cebrian presents a poised performance as John Barrymore; it takes a supremely confident man to spend two hours dressed in little more than black tights and the Theater Babe applauds his self-assured approach in which he wears his unusual garb as naturally as Fred Astaire wore his tux.  Mr. Cebrian's Barrymore is smooth and sensual, but overall lacks the energy and the mercurialness for which the historical figure was renowned.  There is an all-too-brief moment in the second act when Mr. Cebrian electrifies us with a forceful and magnetic soliloquy, but all-too-soon that power subsides into the mild wit that characterizes the rest of his performance.  Because in this production Barrymore is relaxed and almost laconic, Andrew has no flamboyant foil against which he can banter.  The result is a central storyline that lacks any real tension, and the pace reflects that deficiency.  Different direction of these actors would arguably have created a more interesting result.

The absolute best scene in the show is when Barrymore engages Andrew in a duel.  Mr. Cebrian and Mr. Dragas make the most of the lively choreography by Chris Bernhardt, and for a shining moment their verbal repartee is as animated and dynamic as their swordplay.

Jeremiah Joyce gives a noteworthy performance as Gary, the director who tries to lure Andrew back to L.A.  His patter is quick and persuasive, and there is an appreciable spike in energy whenever he steps onstage.  As Andrew's girlfriend, Deirdre, Abbey Ortiz is almost desperately perky in the opening scene, perhaps in an attempt to combat the lackluster performances of the other supporting actors onstage at that time; Ms. Ortiz's performance improves as the show progresses.  As the realtor, Felicia, Mary Lou Mahlman is miscast.  Even in this age of Cougartown, the disparity between her age and that of Mr. Joyce strains credulity that the characters they play would engage in an impetuous, steamy fling, and her conduction of the séance is too measured to capitalize on the comedy of the moment.  Gillian Spencer's portrayal of Andrew's agent, Lillian, is adequate but her accent is noticeably inconsistent; she becomes distinctly less German as the show drags on.

Light designer Jeff Brangan engineers some entertaining special effects, and his lighting of the "regular" parts of the show is subtle and effective.  The costumes, by Joyce Gaus, Betty Jean Walker and Bob Weaver, are not equally successful.  The Shakespearean tunics – which should run about mid-thigh – are appallingly short.  It appears that the costumers and director watched dress rehearsal from the elevated back row of the theater, and are unaware of the combined effect a short hemline and a raised stage has on patrons seated in other rows.  When Andrew's supporters prepare to watch his debut, they are inexplicably dressed in formal evening wear, although Shakespeare in the Park takes place outdoors on the lawn of Central Park and it is unlikely that either an experienced agent or a native New Yorker would so misjudge appropriate attire for the event.  Felicia is saddled with a floral headpiece that completely covers one side of her head, and because she chooses to spend much of the scene with her face turned away from the audience, all we can see are the blossoms bobbing up and down.  Such easily remedied issues only serve to distract us from the credibility of the performance.

Bottom line?  The set is wonderful, well-lit and worth seeing.  There are some thoroughly entertaining moments in I Hate Hamlet, and if as a whole it never quite attains its considerable potential, it is always worthwhile to support local theatre.

Performances run thru September 30^th, Friday – Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 2:30 p.m.

at the Little Theatre of Virginia Beach,

550 Barberton Drive, Virginia Beach, Virginia 23451.

Tickets are $17 ($14 for matinees) with discounts for seniors, students and active military. 

Reservations can be obtained by calling the box office at (757) 428-9233

or online at ltvb.com.

© 2012 Hampton Roads Theater Babe.  All Rights Reserved.