Tonight I and my flatmate ate at my first pub, The Swan, where I had a very English meal of steak, chips, tomato, and ale. We chose the place for its proximity to the Hammersmith Tube station.  The pub was lovely, but not at all crowded–not too many Brits begin dinner at 5:45.

[caption id=“attachment_58” align=“alignnone” width=“224”]The Swan, a pub where I and my flatmate ate dinner tonight before the play. The Swan, a pub where I and my flatmate ate dinner tonight before the play.[/caption]

[caption id=“attachment_53” align=“alignnone” width=“300”]'They come in pints'...which is too much for my first alcohol purchase. I managed maybe half the ale over the course of the meal. ‘They come in pints’. . .which is a lot for my first alcohol purchase. I managed maybe half this glass of ale over the course of the meal.[/caption]

The residents of Hammersmith are keen to establish their connection with Gustav Holst, who lived and worked in the area for years. (In fact, he even composed a piece of music named after the borough.) There were several pictures of him and his music hanging in the first story of the pub.

[caption id=“attachment_55” align=“alignnone” width=“224”]A portrait of the composer, displayed prominently at the Swan. A portrait of the composer, displayed prominently at the Swan.[/caption]

But of course the most exciting part of the day–even more exciting than riding the Underground for the first time–was the play.  Riverside Studios' production of the classic was spare, dark, and violent.  The claustrophobic setting–a modern prison–was augmented by the intimacy of the theatre, which only had seven rows of seats.  (Presumably this was inspired by the conversation in which Hamlet metaphorically declares himself to be in prison.)  The prison adaptation, which mostly felt less like a gimmick than I had suspected, was maintained by added dialogue (most often modern slang) and implied positions for the characters: Hamlet and his compatriots as prisoners, Polonius as the warden, Claudius and Gertrude as visitors, etc.

Most of the small cast were excellent; Hamlet’s most famous soliloquy was particularly well rendered by the lead, lying on the floor of his cell.  Ophelia showed more backbone at the beginning of the play than I anticipated, making her descent into madness that much more dramatic.  Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, whom I remember little from the other version I saw years ago, were the most changed characters.  Instead of well-meaning tools of the king, they were brutal and obnoxious thugs.  In the first half of the play, the duo were used more for comedic effect (which was successful, I admit).  Later, however, scenes were added in which they beat up first Horatio and then Hamlet, scenes which make sense only in the context of the prison story and not at all in the original plot.  Maybe some of my fellow students will enlighten me tomorrow as to the significance of this particular change.

Gertrude’s acting was the greatest disappointment of the cast.  She faded into the background in nearly every scene in which she appeared.

Possibly my favorite part of the play was the performance of The Mousetrap, which was put on not by traveling players but by two prisoners who absorbed the roles of castle guards, courtiers, messengers, and probably a few others.

There’s more I could write about the play, but I’d better get to bed so I can discuss it coherently tomorrow in class.