Is it possible to stage a Shakespeare play inside the game Grand Theft Auto? This is a question few would ask but when the UK entered its third lockdown with nothing but time, WiFi connection and games consoles on their hands, out-of-work actors Sam Crane and Mark Oosterveen decided to do the impossible.
Since the pandemic, there have been many attempts to dramatise the lockdown experience, for better (Host, Help) and for worse (Staged). Regardless of their critical success, it can be agreed that the pandemic period is not visually inspiring. By using the game as its backdrop, Grand Theft Hamlet avoids the dull corporate aesthetics of Zoom that have become synonymous with a time in our lives that most of us are in no rush to reminisce on. Grand Theft Auto, which offers players an arsenal of weaponry, is infamous for its seemingly infinite violent possibilities – which makes it incredibly difficult to get through Shakespearean verse without getting shot down from halfway across this virtual world. Alongside slapstick elements of extreme violence committed against avatars, who are often just trying to make it through the scene, co-writers and directors Pinny Grylls and Sam Crane examine the beauty of the gaming world.
San Andreas and its surrounding countryside, which imitates the dry mountainous terrain of California, offers beautiful vistas befitting the existential poetry of Hamlet, as he reflects on death and his life’s purpose. It is a stunning virtual world that surprisingly complements Shakespearean drama; one can see why co-collaborator Mark [Oosterveen] desperately clings to the project even as actors pull out and the real world begins to open up.
While moments of sincere dialogue, which break from the practical discussions, feel more staged than the project itself, this glimpse into Mark’s isolation is poignant. It serves as a reminder that not everyone is experiencing the same lockdown, and the reality of other people’s commitments to the world outside the game is painful for those who have little reason to log off. Despite the loneliness epidemic mounting in the wake of Covid, Grand Theft Hamlet quickly moves on from Mark’s confessions as the project continues and the cast get bogged down in the practicalities of roles.
Putting aside the limited facial and bodily control a player can have over their avatar, which places restraints on the power of performance, through the stunning world of the game, the escapism and limitless possibilities are explored. However, the insane stage production details (including an underwater cave and a blimp) that would only be possible in game are shown for just brief moments, as once again the method of production becomes more important than the finished piece.
Grand Theft Hamlet works best when it allows the chaos of the game to turn the graphic world of San Andreas into a beautiful and bloody mirror for our own. What is normally sniffed at as an artless violent outlet is a philosophical sandbox for the actors, and even without Shakespeare's elevating monologues, the game's beauty prevails. However, where Grand Theft Hamlet fails is in digging deeper into the subject of isolation that is its starting point; Sam and Mark’s project becomes a fixation, the escapism takes over and the documentary derails into staged dramatics (that aren't Shakespeare). It's a unique framing of lockdown that loses its message to actors more concerned with their own method.
Grand Theft Hamlet is in cinemas now
