Joan Marcus
The voice of Hamlet’s dead father, goading his son to vengeance, booms forth from the speakers in the Public Theater’s excellent production of Hamlet (to Aug 6)—part of New York City’s “Free Shakespeare in the Park”—its spookiness reflected in the warping projections on the brick walls of a modern Elsinore. In the Playbill, the role of the dead king’s ghost—and whoever’s voice it is—go uncredited. On Thursday afternoon, prior to this evening’s official opening of the show, the Public revealed that it was Samuel L. Jackson—a major Hollywood star hiding in plain sight, and a perfectly executed PR coup.
Even when the production isn’t great, Shakespeare in the Park is pleasurable—and an idea and ideal worthy of celebration. You’re in the middle of Central Park, watching the Bard as the sun sets and night falls. If it isn’t pouring with rain, it’s pretty lovely just to be there (the buzzing helicopters overhead notwithstanding). There are plastic cups of frosé and good popcorn for sale. A looming cradle of trees sway gently beyond the Delacorte Theater’s stage. The spirit of the city is visible and audible on stage and off. The stratospheric ticket prices of Broadway are absent. This is culture as it should be: open to all.
The experience is even better when the production is as good as this Hamlet, with Ato Blankson-Wood commanding and magnetic in the title role, and director Kenny Leon overseeing an engaging production that makes this most familiar of Shakespeare feel fresh and vibrant. The secret casting of A-lister Jackson, and effectively concealing him, is a mischievously positioned cherry on top.