The Great Dane

My new, most-prized possession is a poster I just had framed. It's from a production of Hamlet done in 1995, and every time I look at it I'm filled with hope and awe, and it makes me giggle. It's a simple black background with a silver drawing of the face of the actor who played Hamlet. It's very stark and evokes images of small, studio productions of the masterwork done in basements. Fresh. Raw. Vital.

And, yet I'm sure this production was none of those things. I regret that I missed it. I've actually done five different versions of Hamlet, essentially playing all of the boys except the prince himself. In one production I also substituted for the queen in one scene, and I have memorably brought Ophelia to life at an audition that won me a standing ovation. I've studied the prince and learned his speeches, but never played him. I'm really much more suited to the king, and soon will be of the age where I could reasonably play him, if in fact I was still acting.

I love the play. For years I made it a ritual of re-reading the play. I considered it my play, and if I ever do come into some money the first thing I will do is direct my production of it. I haven't visited Denmark in nearly a decade and need to go back. I miss the Dane.

As I said, I didn't see the production advertised in the poster that hangs in my hall, but I really wish I had. You see, it starred Keanu Reeves. Just think of the exquisite agony of sitting through his Hamlet.

I've seen three filmed versions of the play: Olivier, Gibson, and Branaugh. Of the three, I have to say that I think the production starring Mel Gibson was the most satisfying. Olivier acted as if he owned the role, far to arrogant for me; Branaugh filmed his performance at the last possible moment, after he'd played the role in several productions on stage and before major reconstructive surgery would have been required to portray the tortured youth. He had no interest in, let alone love for the prince left. He simply collected a pay check. Gibson didn't try to do anything but entertain. He didn't treat the text as sacred, and wasn't afraid of the humor or the charm. He was thrilling in the role. I'm sure Keanu's Hamlet was quite earnest and loud, but oh, how I wish I'd seen it. I remember the reviews for Keanu's Hamlet. The line that sticks out is, "He got all the words in the right order." Can we honestly expect more from Keanu. And I would have stood and cheered.

As turgid as I imagine the production must have truly been, I still love to think of Keanu Reeves playing Hamlet. Think of it: we live in a world where Keanu Reeves can tackle the greatest theatrical creation the English language has ever produced. He wrestled the Great Dane for his own reasons in front of paying audiences, and I have no doubt it is finest achievement. Some would think Mr. Reeves demonstrated hubris, but I believe it was courage. He dared to dream and risk and face absolute certain ridicule. He had to have known that he would be an utter failure in the eyes of most of the world, and yet every night for weeks he stepped onto a darkened stage and began, "A little more than kin, and less than kind." "O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt..." and of course, "To be, or not to be. That is the question." The exepected "dude" at the end of the most famous dramatic line ever written need not be spoken. It hangs in the air waiting for the audience to fill in the blank. I can see him bouncing in place, flipping hair out of his eyes, readying for the fight with Laertes; standing defiant, jaw thrust forward to the king; whispering monotone to Horatio, "The rest is silence." I wonder if the gravedigger was able to evoke a brief, honest human moment from Keanu/Hamlet and make him smile, or whether Keanu/Hamlet made the audience feel anything but boredom. I hope someone other than his mother saw it for what it was.

I know I would have loved every iambic-pentametric moment. In a world where Keanu Reeves can play Hamlet, anything can happen. And if he did nothing else, the one bit of pure magic he did create that no one else has done: Keanu Reeves turned the dark English tragedy into a symbol of hope for all those who choose to see it.