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into a compelling character. Ambrose’s Ophelia is a wise, somewhat sarcastic young woman who takes her brother’s and father’s long-winded speeches with a much-needed grain of salt. She is still innocent, however – maybe that is why they insist on dressing her in pink in every scene? – but behind that wide smile is a bit of wisdom. If only it was enough to outwit Hamlet. As Ambrose takes Ophelia into the realms of insanity, she somehow strikes the balance between dramatic and pathetic and maintains it throughout a truly heartbreaking scene. This Ophelia is so likeable, and so pitiable, that her death seemed like the first true tragedy of the night.
Accompanying Ophelia as the strongest members of the cast is Margaret Colin as Queen Gertrude. The possessor of a straight-backed, regal presence and a husky, strident voice, Colin’s Gertrude is almost unbelievable in this production of Hamlet. Clad in sensible, yet stylish, skirt suits, and delegated to the background of many scenes, she still seems much too smart to be so easily duped by so many men. At times I wanted her to seize the crown and call the shots, rather than Claudius. This Queen would be more at home discussing diplomacy with Michelle Obama than dinner parties with Laura Bush.
Current members of political society would most likely look at home on this production’s set, a starkly minimalist stage reminiscent of a military fortress. This setting, however, does nothing to enhance the show, despite the military subplot of Hamlet’s foil, Fortinbras. The setting, like everything other decision in the show, was clearly made with good intentions but fails to blend cohesively. This remains true until the very last moment of the show, when the inexplicable murder of Horatio closes the production with a bang. But a whimper would have been more appropriate.
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