Commissioned by The Ohio State University’s Arts Initiative in 2012, Hamlet’s Fool is both a stand-alone tragedy piece and a reflection on the possible past of Yorick, known to us only as a skull which provides one of the most famous moments in the Shakespearean canon. Through acting, puppetry and music, he is reincarnated as a helpless observer of the tragedy of Elsinore in a production that is in turn both comic and moving.

Taking on both the writing and performing duties, it cannot be denied that Peter Cutts is a fantastic storyteller. His instinctive enjoyment of telling a tale and interacting with an audience shines through, and his enthusiasm is infectious. Cutts creates the epitome of the Shakespearean fool – witty yet vulnerable, jolly yet mournful and with a modern edge. His out-of-tune piano and cocktail made entirely from Special Brew are delightful details which demonstrate his particular blend of sophistication and ‘down-to-earthiness’. Yorick casts a Beckettian figure: while his Converse Hi Tops, high-waisted trousers and braces are a nod to the clown-esque elements of his character, his shabbiness would not look out of place in a production of Waiting for Godot. Yet Cutts is also adept at switching roles quickly, adopting a range of voices and physical characterisations to portray the duke, the grave-digger or the king with equal aplomb.

There are frequent enough laugh-out-loud moments in Hamlet’s Fool, with the affectations of the duke and the grave-diggers providing the most comedy. Sadly, the portrayal of the queen rather misses the mark: at around her second appearance her babyish, simpering tone ceases to be funny, sporadically plunging the show from entertaining heights to cringeworthy depths. However impressive the rest of his acting, this weak spot is difficult to ignore as it resurfaces regularly. On the other hand, the makeshift puppets created from sheets or coats are surprisingly effective in depicting the young Hamlet or the mysterious ‘little man’, simple enough as not to look out of place but ingeniously capturing our attention. Meanwhile, musical interludes are for the most part effective, with the jaunty yet uneasy refrain always recalling the ominous threat overshadowing the play. However, at times the transition between prose and music should be smoother, particularly in the final – and rather too long – musical passage.

That the majority of this production is effective and original makes the final section all the more disappointing, as the action shifts to ’23 Years Later’. The retelling of the familiar Hamlet story lacks the power and interest of its ‘prequel’, as the imaginative recreation of Yorick becomes a mere narrator to Shakespeare’s tale. It won’t be a huge spoiler to say that Yorick has died in this time, and his reappearance as a ‘spirit’ feels a little like cheating to extend the play. There is not enough exploration of events or character here to make this rather tenuous plot development seem worthwhile, as the show rushes towards the conclusion of Hamlet: the reappearance of the ‘little man’ in particular is anticlimactic as it detracts from the earlier puppetry which worked so well. Having said this, the last moments of the play are suddenly and shockingly moving, as the words of Hamlet’s childhood games are re-echoed in his dying moments.

It is a shame that this show loses its verve and intrigue in the final scenes, as throughout it is a largely compelling piece of theatre which, for its minor faults, provides an interesting take on an extraordinarily famous yet unexplored character, and demonstrates Peter Cutts’s hugely enjoyable and talented storytelling. With some editing, Hamlet’s Fool could become a concise but sparkling gem of theatre.

Hamlet’s Fool is playing at the Cockpit Theatre until 11 May. For more information and tickets, see the Cockpit Theatre website

The last time I saw a production of Hamlet – and for better or for worse I have seen a few – was Dominic Dromgoole’s great production at the Globe. The very nature of that stage, with the lights and sounds of London in the summertime pouring in from the open top, made this first production by new company Stern Alarum all the more unnerving. Set in a genuine Second World War bunker in Dalston, this telling of the Hamlet tale retreats into the darkness like an injured creature, the damage that the characters endure made suddenly tangible and frightening.

Entering the bunker is a disarming and sensory experience: the cold, the damp and the encroaching darkness pull you ever deeper into the tortured psyche of Henry Douthwaite’s Hamlet. Indeed, the way in which he weaves in and out of scenes gives the impression of winding, endless corridors beyond our claustrophobic and stifling space that manifest the maze of his mind, infested by paranoia and a desire for revenge.

The sense of madness in Douthwaite’s excellent portrayal is visceral and threatening; the way in which he launches himself at Angela Ferns’ fragile Ophelia, and the sexual tone of his violence, have a sense of danger and rawness like that of a trapped animal. He scrawls on the damp walls with chalk like someone incarcerated, stating that “Denmark is a prison” – and yet it seems an asylum. The sounds within the bunker take on an otherworldly echo, adding to this sense that we have been abandoned by the outside world, and the lights that represent the old king’s ghost cast shadows on the rest of the characters that make them look haunted and drawn.

Douthwaite is ably supported by a fantastic cast and Ferns in particular is perfect as the tragic Ophelia. There is a pinch of resentment and bitterness within her responses that, despite her sense of fragility, also hint at her own desire for revenge for the wrongs committed against her. The scene between Hamlet and Terry Diab’s Gertrude is also moving, as Hamlet seeks the comfort of his mother in one last embrace before the bodies begin to pile up.

Director Andrew Shepherd masters this haunting interpretation of Hamlet. Both the setting and cast conjure up an atmosphere that expertly captures the dark elements of this play and the goose bumps that one feels upon leaving are certainly not all from the temperature.

Hamlet is playing at the Dalston Bunker until 27 April 2013. For more information and tickets, please see the Stern Alarum website.

We asked AYT readers what they’d like to ask our RSC diarists…

Q: “I’d love to know how rigorous the rehearsal period is; time-wise and the level of depth with textual analysis.”

Rosie: Well, it varies according to the director’s process and the parts you play. In Hamlet, we spent the first few weeks going through each scene in detail and discussing it, then slowly putting it on its feet before we moved on to the next scene, and after an initial read through we were only called for the scenes we were in which we explored bit by bit. But in As You Like It we were all called for a two week movement workshop which had no text at all, before we even read the script around a table together. The workshop had us dripping in sweat for eight hours a day pretty much, whilst the read through was a week long and at times it could lead to hours of discussion on one scene.

As for parts, I thought that as a newbie cast in small parts I wouldn’t be called that much, but both David Farr and Maria Aberg had us in for group scenes again and again (they can be very choreographed and technical), as well as song, dance, movement and voice calls.

So I’ve done 12 hour days, five to six days a week for the last two and a half months, and what with the understudy runs and All’s Well That Ends Well coming up, that doesn’t look set to change until the 7th August. It’s amazing, but exhausting.

Dan: Rehearsals at the RSC are very in depth. We’re lucky enough to get ten weeks to explore each play. Both processes included a great deal of textual analysis and table work as a company, to discuss the meanings of all the lines and words within the play so we would be able to communicate them to an audience properly. With As You, we also had a two week workshop period where we improvised and tried out various movement ideas for establishing the two worlds of the court and Arden.

Q: “Is there any chance for those of us who don’t go to drama school after university due to cost?”

Rosie: I tried to get acting jobs without an agent and without drama school, and it varied from hard to impossible. Unless you know someone like a radio producer, or director, or want to put on your own stuff, go to drama school. It’s hard to get an agent and without them you don’t get seen for paid jobs. I know RADA can take on tuition fees if you can’t afford them, at least they could when I applied. Otherwise, the Actor’s Centre do courses which at least means you meet professionals and peers, and Paines Plough do fantastic open auditions.

Dan: I think it’s getting a lot harder for people going to drama schools, especially with the recent increase in fees. But don’t be put off, there are various bursaries and scholarships you can apply for which help towards funding. If this is your first higher education course, you can take out a student loan to help with the costs too. Also there’s nothing stopping you working for a year or so to stockpile some cash to help get you through your training as well.

Q: “Do you have any tips on how to make yourself more open and vulnerable in acting?”

Rosie: Being centred and remembering to breathe helps to focus your concentration on listening like you’ve never heard stuff before, which means if the situation is sad or funny it should make you laugh, cry, sigh automatically. I need to know who my character is through movement, rehearsal, and what they are thinking, then I can relax and stop worrying about back story because it’s in my body and I can just listen. It’s hard though; I’m easily distracted and it takes concentration.

Dan: There are so many ways for this to be achieved and I think I’m still figuring it out myself to be honest. There’s not one correct way; I suppose it’s finding what works best for you. A good warm up and some physical exercise (run, gym or yoga) before a performance helps to clear my mind before a show, so I can be as much in the moment as possible and not over think stuff too much, and just let it happen to me.

Q: “How does an actor transition from being his cheery self backstage into a sad character on stage in limited time?”

Rosie: For me, having explored a character’s physicality really helps, and costume helps too. If I change how I move, that makes me a different person, or at least body memory reminds me to be a different person in a different situation. Lighter or more tense, slower or more jagged. I’m not a very intellectual actor. I’d rather my body did the work, and I can just try and be available to the other actors and immediate situation. That’s where repetition and rehearsal come in.

Dan: For this I think it’s just a case of giving yourself enough time to focus and relax, and doing whatever is necessary to allow you to do this whether that’s a warm up, or a cup of tea and a sit down. Different things work for different actors so I suppose it’s just a case of trial and error until you land on something that fits. It also depends on what you’re doing in the show and what the role requires of you, so adapt and change what works for you accordingly.

The RSC runs a £5 ticket scheme for 16 – 25 year olds. Find out more here.

Images: Daniel and Rosie in rehearsals for Hamlet. By Keith Pattison.

The buzzing in my ears is dying down. Finally. My two lovely aunts have just left from inspecting my Ferry House room (very much like larger student digs – though a lot quieter). They made their respective ways all the way from London and Norwich just to see me, so they deserve a backstage tour. My mother came down the other week, also very proud, and bought me new bedding. I was way more excited about that than about press night, but people say I am a strange girl.

Everyone, from the dressers to the actors says: “Ohhh, Ferry House, the party house!”, with a wicked twinkle in their eye, as if they knew something we newbies didn’t, but so far it’s been a haven of tranquility to which I gratefully escape in between calls. As You Like It rehearsals have started back today and with them comes the desperate need for discipline: packed lunches. (We use bread in the show, and I take it home every night because where I come from, wasting bread is a sin. Maybe I’ll have marmite on toast, or a cheese sandwich? The options are endless… In fact I’m nibblng it as I write, but the freezer is full of it and there is only so much bread one woman can stomach. I suppose I could share it with the Stratford swans?)

Anyway, a lot of understudy lines to learn as well as my Audrey to remember, and any number of dances and Laura Marling songs. She was in rehearsals today, flown in especially from America (at least that’s what I tell myself) and we all hoped she wasn‘t really listening when we did our first musical recap after three weeks. Hamlet press night was last night and some of us were more battered than others, shall we say. But Maria (Aberg) and Ayse (Taskiran) were bouncing about and soon had us whirling around in a wedding dance at ten in the morning. No rest for the wicked, and that is certainly true at the RSC. But somehow – is it the bread or the adrenaline? – I seem to have loads of energy still. Let’s hope it lasts the next eight months.

The RSC runs a £5 ticket scheme for 16 – 25 year olds. Find out more here.

Image: Keith Pattison