Theatre
Hamlet (Globe)
The Prince of Japan
Christopher Edwards
The Tokyo Globe Company has brought its kabuki version of Hamlet to London as part of the Japan Festival 1991. The Japanese textual version of Shakespeare's tragedy was written by Robun Kanagaki in 1886 and is, apparent- ly, much admired for its literary elegance. Despite such admiration, however, it has never been performed before.
The literary merits of the Japanese origi- nal we must take on tilist. But even if, like this reviewer, you have never seen kabuki before, the production's great visual flair and controlled energy cannot fail to impress. The theatrical power of the pro- duction is enormous.
The production makes use of various conventions (some of which are helpfully listed in a programffie note). Significant moments are underlined by the striking of wooden clappdrs by a man sitting at the side of the stage.
The action is further assisted by choric singing, while a wide range of instruments contribute to help express a scene or the psychology of a character. Throughout the production the actors are assisted by scur-
rying, black-clad figures who rush on, adjust the elaborate and lovely costumes, and provide small stools for the actors to sit on. The convention is that they are invisible.
Puppet theatre is obviously drawn upon, as we can see right at the start. Claudius, Gertrude and Hamlet are first seen slumped forward like abandoned mari- onettes. And as they each come to life, the inexperienced kabuki spectator is surprised by shouts of `ohmukoh' coming from Japanese cognoscenti in the audience. These are the approving noises made by an actor's admirer in appreciation of a partic- ularly well-struck attitude. Claudius' sensu- ality is expressed by Matsusuke Onoe's heavy, clownish, drunken aspect which seemed to be particularly appreciated by the Japanese in the audience.
It is interesting that, in the play within a play, the actor playing Hamlet's father depicts him also as a heavy sensualist. Gertrude meanwhile, who is played by a male actor, appears to have been in on the murder. As the poison is poured into the ear — Hamlet accompanies it on a tiny drum — Gertrude seems to share Claudius' horror of discovery.
But in the course of the evening, it is Somegoro Ichikawa, the eighteen-year-old actor playing both Hamlet and Ophelia, who rightly receives most of the noisy approvals. He is a remarkably graceful actor whose emotions appear locked-up behind his pale features, only to be expressed by swift, lithe movements of his whole body. In this version Hamlet and Ophelia never meet, so there is no 'nun- nery' scene. His Ophelia is passive and frail, her madness indicated by a sinister, low chuckle.
There are numerous amusing and appealing touches. When Hamlet languidly kills one of Polonius' spies the spy dies by acrobatically turning a somersault. A sol- dier thoughtfully wipes Hamlet's blade for him as the Ghost rises at the rear of the stage. The scene is both elegant and emblematic. Everywhere the effects are achieved with great precision and economy of gesture. For example, Hamlet later evades Claudius' two guards in a three- pronged dance. His elusiveness is beautiful- ly conveyed by the dexterity with which he brushes off the guards by gestures with a fan. This scene earned plenty of `ohmukohs'.
The production is absorbing. However, as it progressed I found myself wondering at the ease with which we could 'read' this kabuki ,version. There was something sys- tematic about the treatment, almost as if it had been laid on top of the text, to make it `accessible'. This is, apparently, modern kubuki. A friend who has seen the more traditional style says it is far more weird, alien and sensationalist. That kind of kabu- ki can be found elsewhere in the festival. In the meantime, Hamlet makes an arresting introduction.