SOMETHING
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THE STAGE – Tracey Sinclair
While there’s nothing particularly original in tackling a Shakespeare play from one of the supporting characters’ viewpoints, Monkeydog’s Something Rotten is an engaging and clever take on Hamlet’s Claudius. Appearing at first as equal parts monarch, politician and middle manager, the new king is all pleasantness as he addresses us, his household staff: very sad about the death of his brother and all that, but we must move on, maintain continuity in the realm, and the sooner that moody teen gets packed off back to university the better.
Robert Cohen – performing his own piece – is superb, both in his portrayal of the assumed persona of this over-amiable king, and the mercurial, secretly vengeful man behind it, who fast unravels as his plans are thwarted, his flaws and secrets exposed one by one.
There are some sharp and some very funny lines, and plenty of sly references to the original text thrown in for the aficionados – though you don’t need to be an expert to enjoy the production.
It’s occasionally a little heavy-handed and there are few real surprises – the big reveals are all obviously signposted – but Cohen gives his character real nuance and depth, taking this well beyond what could easily have been a one-joke idea.
Verdict
A strong solo performance in a smartly-written reimagining of Hamlet from Claudius’ point of view
While there’s nothing particularly original in tackling a Shakespeare play from one of the supporting characters’ viewpoints, Monkeydog’s Something Rotten is an engaging and clever take on Hamlet’s Claudius. Appearing at first as equal parts monarch, politician and middle manager, the new king is all pleasantness as he addresses us, his household staff: very sad about the death of his brother and all that, but we must move on, maintain continuity in the realm, and the sooner that moody teen gets packed off back to university the better.
Robert Cohen – performing his own piece – is superb, both in his portrayal of the assumed persona of this over-amiable king, and the mercurial, secretly vengeful man behind it, who fast unravels as his plans are thwarted, his flaws and secrets exposed one by one.
There are some sharp and some very funny lines, and plenty of sly references to the original text thrown in for the aficionados – though you don’t need to be an expert to enjoy the production.
It’s occasionally a little heavy-handed and there are few real surprises – the big reveals are all obviously signposted – but Cohen gives his character real nuance and depth, taking this well beyond what could easily have been a one-joke idea.
Verdict
A strong solo performance in a smartly-written reimagining of Hamlet from Claudius’ point of view
TOTAL THEATRE – Beccy Smith
Robert Cohen has ploughed a lonely, yet finely turned, furrow in solo character comedies in the past few years, taking on communist-turned-informer in The Trials of Harvey Matusow or maligned (or was it malignant?) traffic warden in High Vis. This production has another misunderstood antihero at its heart: fratricidal usurper Claudius, whose actions (in)famously trigger the plot of Hamlet.In Cohen’s smart adaptation we sit on the edge of the action, not unlike Stoppard’s approach in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and much of the comedy derives from his slant reinterpretation of the well-known story. Here, though, the content is character-led, rather than philosophically-driven. Cohen draws Claudius with warmth as well as wit and an ambiguity that makes us wonder if his storytelling will turn accepted interpretation on its heads. Claudius has a childhood here (rather abusive); a running feud with Yorick (darkly hilarious, with the jester cast as a sort of unreconstructed Northern pub stand up); and far more of a history with Gertrude than convention suggests. All the parts are multi-roled with some subtle adjustments and initially Cohen seems more confident in these broader stylings and shifts of voice than in the part of his leading man. But the image of Claudius gradually solidifies, at the same time becoming more equivocal. The show treads the fine line between character comedy and character drama effectively.
This is a thoughtfully made piece of theatre. It is highly structured, its byline ‘100 days of Claudius’ (recalling another oft-criticised leader, Napoleon) broken down into nine bite-sized and tonally shifting scenes, thoughtfully named in the programme to map us through what could otherwise be a rather intense solo in the tightly packed theatre at the Waterfront 2. Clever and funny, its minimalistic staging achieves maximum storytelling effect.
Robert Cohen has ploughed a lonely, yet finely turned, furrow in solo character comedies in the past few years, taking on communist-turned-informer in The Trials of Harvey Matusow or maligned (or was it malignant?) traffic warden in High Vis. This production has another misunderstood antihero at its heart: fratricidal usurper Claudius, whose actions (in)famously trigger the plot of Hamlet.In Cohen’s smart adaptation we sit on the edge of the action, not unlike Stoppard’s approach in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead, and much of the comedy derives from his slant reinterpretation of the well-known story. Here, though, the content is character-led, rather than philosophically-driven. Cohen draws Claudius with warmth as well as wit and an ambiguity that makes us wonder if his storytelling will turn accepted interpretation on its heads. Claudius has a childhood here (rather abusive); a running feud with Yorick (darkly hilarious, with the jester cast as a sort of unreconstructed Northern pub stand up); and far more of a history with Gertrude than convention suggests. All the parts are multi-roled with some subtle adjustments and initially Cohen seems more confident in these broader stylings and shifts of voice than in the part of his leading man. But the image of Claudius gradually solidifies, at the same time becoming more equivocal. The show treads the fine line between character comedy and character drama effectively.
This is a thoughtfully made piece of theatre. It is highly structured, its byline ‘100 days of Claudius’ (recalling another oft-criticised leader, Napoleon) broken down into nine bite-sized and tonally shifting scenes, thoughtfully named in the programme to map us through what could otherwise be a rather intense solo in the tightly packed theatre at the Waterfront 2. Clever and funny, its minimalistic staging achieves maximum storytelling effect.
LATEST 7 – Andrew Connal
‘Hamlet’ is just full of quotations, and some hints of Shakespeare have slipped into this atmospheric dramatic monologue. The language is carefully ‘antiqued’, the decorous grammar punctuated with ‘perchance’ and ‘methinks’ enough for us to feel we’d just wallowed in five hours of the original play. Shakespeare’s poetic rhythms are exchanged for adept comic timing and the pace, like Claudius’ ego, is relentless. Claudius slyly wins our attention and, like a royal Warren Mitchell or Steven Berkoff, carefully spins his apologia. We all know the ending but that in no way spoils this well-crafted, erudite and entertaining romp through Elsinore.
30/5/16
‘Hamlet’ is just full of quotations, and some hints of Shakespeare have slipped into this atmospheric dramatic monologue. The language is carefully ‘antiqued’, the decorous grammar punctuated with ‘perchance’ and ‘methinks’ enough for us to feel we’d just wallowed in five hours of the original play. Shakespeare’s poetic rhythms are exchanged for adept comic timing and the pace, like Claudius’ ego, is relentless. Claudius slyly wins our attention and, like a royal Warren Mitchell or Steven Berkoff, carefully spins his apologia. We all know the ending but that in no way spoils this well-crafted, erudite and entertaining romp through Elsinore.
30/5/16
FRINGEGURU
Richard Stamp
They say that history is written by the victors… and while nobody exactly wins in Hamlet, wicked Uncle Claudius clearly loses most. Robert Cohen’s witty one-man show aims to redress that balance, taking us behind the scenes in Claudius’ court as the events of Shakespeare’s plot unfold. It’s evident from the off that the newly-crowned king has some serious work to do: reforming the state, restoring his pride, rescuing his people from the “knavery” of his brother’s misrule. Along the way we also learn a few home truths about the Danish royal family… and discover that, alas, “poor” Yorick was really to blame for it all.
The language of Cohen’s play is a delicious blend of faux-Elizabethan – filled with knowing ’tis’s and wherefores – and soundbites reminiscent of modern political spin. There are witty echoes of Shakespeare’s script, and the whole monologue is delivered in a wearily ironic tone; this is a man who’s clearly exasperated by both his sulky nephew, and his indolent, incompetent staff. At times the bitterness grows poetic and lyrical, but there are frequent sharp one-liners too, poking creative insult at characters we recognise from the Bard.
And you will need to recognise the essentials of Hamlet to enjoy this show to the full. Much of the pleasure lies in knowing in advance just how Claudius’ plans are doomed to fail, and further intelligent entertainment comes from watching a familiar tale from another perspective – usually, with caustic commentary tacked on. The love affair between Hamlet and “that Ophelia” is reduced to a gossipy soap opera, which Claudius describes (at least at first) with wryly indulgent amusement. And the murder of Polonius is a true comic highlight… even though we experience it only vicariously, through Claudius’ disbelieving report of events that happen off-stage.
The humour ebbs and flows more than it builds – and although I laughed both hard and often, the performance didn’t quite hit the comic heights I felt it could have done. I wanted to see Claudius’ character pushed that little bit further, so that his world-weary misanthropy and punctured dignity came even more clearly through. But there’s a serious side to the portrayal as well: Cohen presents a credible theory of Claudius’ true motivations, and shares his pain and disappointment at the accusations – false accusations, he assures us – levelled by those who once were close to him.
So there’s some “proper” Shakespearean analysis tucked in there, yet it’s done with a comic lightness that makes the show’s 70 minutes fly by. Something Rotten is a deceptively clever piece, but I’ll remember it most for its laugh-out-loud in-jokes – and for Cohen’s inspired portrayal of the care-worn Claudius, helplessly despairing at the rotten things around him.
4/6/16
Richard Stamp
They say that history is written by the victors… and while nobody exactly wins in Hamlet, wicked Uncle Claudius clearly loses most. Robert Cohen’s witty one-man show aims to redress that balance, taking us behind the scenes in Claudius’ court as the events of Shakespeare’s plot unfold. It’s evident from the off that the newly-crowned king has some serious work to do: reforming the state, restoring his pride, rescuing his people from the “knavery” of his brother’s misrule. Along the way we also learn a few home truths about the Danish royal family… and discover that, alas, “poor” Yorick was really to blame for it all.
The language of Cohen’s play is a delicious blend of faux-Elizabethan – filled with knowing ’tis’s and wherefores – and soundbites reminiscent of modern political spin. There are witty echoes of Shakespeare’s script, and the whole monologue is delivered in a wearily ironic tone; this is a man who’s clearly exasperated by both his sulky nephew, and his indolent, incompetent staff. At times the bitterness grows poetic and lyrical, but there are frequent sharp one-liners too, poking creative insult at characters we recognise from the Bard.
And you will need to recognise the essentials of Hamlet to enjoy this show to the full. Much of the pleasure lies in knowing in advance just how Claudius’ plans are doomed to fail, and further intelligent entertainment comes from watching a familiar tale from another perspective – usually, with caustic commentary tacked on. The love affair between Hamlet and “that Ophelia” is reduced to a gossipy soap opera, which Claudius describes (at least at first) with wryly indulgent amusement. And the murder of Polonius is a true comic highlight… even though we experience it only vicariously, through Claudius’ disbelieving report of events that happen off-stage.
The humour ebbs and flows more than it builds – and although I laughed both hard and often, the performance didn’t quite hit the comic heights I felt it could have done. I wanted to see Claudius’ character pushed that little bit further, so that his world-weary misanthropy and punctured dignity came even more clearly through. But there’s a serious side to the portrayal as well: Cohen presents a credible theory of Claudius’ true motivations, and shares his pain and disappointment at the accusations – false accusations, he assures us – levelled by those who once were close to him.
So there’s some “proper” Shakespearean analysis tucked in there, yet it’s done with a comic lightness that makes the show’s 70 minutes fly by. Something Rotten is a deceptively clever piece, but I’ll remember it most for its laugh-out-loud in-jokes – and for Cohen’s inspired portrayal of the care-worn Claudius, helplessly despairing at the rotten things around him.
4/6/16
THE ARGUS – Barrie Jerram
***** ARGUS ANGEL WINNER
One of the highlights of Brighton Fringe and one looked forward to with great anticipation is the appearance of Robert Cohen in a self-penned solo show.
This year he has devised a piece that looks at Shakespeare’s Hamlet through the eyes of Claudius, his incestuous and murdering uncle.
Cohen delivers a double whammy. His writing is a marvellous work of imagination – clever but not pretentious with a fair sprinkling of black humour. The intelligent script is given life through his superb acting and storytelling skills. He grips his audience and provides more entertainment in 70 minutes than Stoppard managed to do in his full-length take on Hamlet.
Each person in the audience is addressed by Claudius as though they are members of his council. A series of monologues tell his side of the story and let loose protestations of innocence but gradually reveal his long held jealousy and resentment against his brother. Also revealed is his hatred for Yorick, the court jester who had been allowed to humiliate him over the years. Cohen has written Yorick a bigger part than the Bard did.
Cohen provides Claudius with final words that are a delightfully funny piece of irony.
***** ARGUS ANGEL WINNER
One of the highlights of Brighton Fringe and one looked forward to with great anticipation is the appearance of Robert Cohen in a self-penned solo show.
This year he has devised a piece that looks at Shakespeare’s Hamlet through the eyes of Claudius, his incestuous and murdering uncle.
Cohen delivers a double whammy. His writing is a marvellous work of imagination – clever but not pretentious with a fair sprinkling of black humour. The intelligent script is given life through his superb acting and storytelling skills. He grips his audience and provides more entertainment in 70 minutes than Stoppard managed to do in his full-length take on Hamlet.
Each person in the audience is addressed by Claudius as though they are members of his council. A series of monologues tell his side of the story and let loose protestations of innocence but gradually reveal his long held jealousy and resentment against his brother. Also revealed is his hatred for Yorick, the court jester who had been allowed to humiliate him over the years. Cohen has written Yorick a bigger part than the Bard did.
Cohen provides Claudius with final words that are a delightfully funny piece of irony.
Northern Echo
HELEN BROWN
"IF brevity (truly) is the soul of wit" – Robert Cohen’s portrayal of Claudius, succeeds the quote with flying colours, single-handedly summing up the entire production of Hamlet in an hour-and-a-half.
Cohen deftly lifts the text off the page undressing the facts with such believable charm, going on to present an entirely different perspective of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy.
His Claudius pushes a royal nose into the dark corners of play, finding motivation and justification for his own villainous acts. His excuse for marrying his dead brother’s wife is that she was his first. It was he, he moans, who first brought Gertrude to court only to have his father choose his brother, The King, for her husband. Now as the new King, married to Gertrude, the woman he truly loves, Claudius accepts Hamlet as his step-son, hinting at the possibility that he could be a little more than kin than he’d like.
Claudius even gets a few laughs out of Ophelia’s madness and describes Laertes and Hamlet physically scrapping in her grave over who loved her the most. Cohen’s repeated use of spoonerisms for Hamlet's childhood school friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, got a few laughs too.
Good old Yorick, the King’s Jester, gets a few lines (an authentic looking skull), and the poor gravedigger gets it in the neck for not digging the graves deep enough and mixing up all the bones.
Cohen’s knowledge of the play is enviable; his skill as a writer, observer and performer is without question truly masterful.
HELEN BROWN
"IF brevity (truly) is the soul of wit" – Robert Cohen’s portrayal of Claudius, succeeds the quote with flying colours, single-handedly summing up the entire production of Hamlet in an hour-and-a-half.
Cohen deftly lifts the text off the page undressing the facts with such believable charm, going on to present an entirely different perspective of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedy.
His Claudius pushes a royal nose into the dark corners of play, finding motivation and justification for his own villainous acts. His excuse for marrying his dead brother’s wife is that she was his first. It was he, he moans, who first brought Gertrude to court only to have his father choose his brother, The King, for her husband. Now as the new King, married to Gertrude, the woman he truly loves, Claudius accepts Hamlet as his step-son, hinting at the possibility that he could be a little more than kin than he’d like.
Claudius even gets a few laughs out of Ophelia’s madness and describes Laertes and Hamlet physically scrapping in her grave over who loved her the most. Cohen’s repeated use of spoonerisms for Hamlet's childhood school friends, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, got a few laughs too.
Good old Yorick, the King’s Jester, gets a few lines (an authentic looking skull), and the poor gravedigger gets it in the neck for not digging the graves deep enough and mixing up all the bones.
Cohen’s knowledge of the play is enviable; his skill as a writer, observer and performer is without question truly masterful.
FRINGE REVIEW – Simon Jenner
Jenny Rowe directs Robert Cohen who both writes and stars in this original subversion of King Claudius of Denmark, addressing his courtiers in between rather famous scenes– in a manner obliquely reminiscent of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. This however’s a very different apologia. Seventy minutes pass swiftly in the legendary intimacy of Sweet Venues Waterfront 2.
It’s not fair. Nephew Hamlet has not only all the best lines but he’s a scene-stealer too, so in between these scenes Claudius addresses his entourage, confiding exactly who died and when and how it’ll naturally turn out well. Some deaths and entrances might surprise you. Some might say they had it coming.
Cohen’s cleverly-understated text utilises a sparing garnish of Jacobean syntax and florid language in a modern attacking idiom. It’s delivered a fleet set of ten speeches calibrated for the duration of Hamlet over a series of ninety days: the tone never cloys. Cohen’s Claudius is at once confiding and mildly threatening. His grin is thin-lipped, as horrible as – well, name your own politician.
This Claudius has been put upon and he’s setting the records straight. If you’re in the front row you might receive one of them or at least a court order. Cohen’s interaction with the audience is exemplary in such a confined space.
Not only did he take the pummelling every time his elder brother get two and two wrong (the heir’s head could never be so dinted) but later, when at Uppsala he meets Gertrude and woos her for himself he’s a little chagrined to find his father approving then thrusting to the elder brother who unlike Gertrude has a choice, and takes it. We learn later of the long-standing affair, with a timetabling to ensure Hamlet really is Hamlet’s as it were.
Cohen revisits the original military rationale and keeps Young Fortinbras of Norway at the forefront of the narrative, when calling on the impress of service, and evoking the uses of war and a state under siege. Hence Laertes, despite his rashness in plunging straight for Claudius on his return from Paris and nearly killing him, is just the kind of soldier Claudius needs.
Hamlet on the other hand had infinitely more chances to kill him, Claudius reflects, and fails utterly, merely dispatching poor Polonius when logic would tell him Claudius has no need to skulk. No, madness in great ones must not unchecked go – nor incompetence.
Cohen deploys casual anti-Semitism, mixing up the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern names to the extent the audience almost sigh when he gets it right. The two Hebrews have also failed, so are dispatched on that mission to England which offers to remit England’s ‘tribute’ to Denmark. Cohen never relinquishes the realpolitik behind Denmark’s civil and drinking breaches. England’s been warned before.
And there’s Yorick, who spends much of Claudius’ youth berating him for losing a bride to his brother and perpetrating hang-dog looks – Yorick’s dead now of course. That doesn’t prevent Claudius revenging himself on his skull, at the least.
Rowe directs with clean lighting interspersed with blackouts – including a rapid off/on set of cameos where Cohen’s glimpsed with a femur he brandishes earlier, leaping out at alarming corners of the room. Rowe invests the sonics with some brass fanfares and a discreetly swelling use of symphonic music, three chirruping Mahler symphonies, Sibelius 4, Mendelssohn and was it Berlioz’s Tristia Hamlet march?
She’s also elicited from Cohen his crispest, most animated performance to date. There’s more variety in this performance than anything since the magnificent Harvey Matusow, and more fleetness, mobility of expression and varietal snarl. This show has legs as well as stray femurs and will soon I trust breathe its sallow-suited brilliance in wider venues – and implicate others in this very different I, Claudius.
Jenny Rowe directs Robert Cohen who both writes and stars in this original subversion of King Claudius of Denmark, addressing his courtiers in between rather famous scenes– in a manner obliquely reminiscent of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. This however’s a very different apologia. Seventy minutes pass swiftly in the legendary intimacy of Sweet Venues Waterfront 2.
It’s not fair. Nephew Hamlet has not only all the best lines but he’s a scene-stealer too, so in between these scenes Claudius addresses his entourage, confiding exactly who died and when and how it’ll naturally turn out well. Some deaths and entrances might surprise you. Some might say they had it coming.
Cohen’s cleverly-understated text utilises a sparing garnish of Jacobean syntax and florid language in a modern attacking idiom. It’s delivered a fleet set of ten speeches calibrated for the duration of Hamlet over a series of ninety days: the tone never cloys. Cohen’s Claudius is at once confiding and mildly threatening. His grin is thin-lipped, as horrible as – well, name your own politician.
This Claudius has been put upon and he’s setting the records straight. If you’re in the front row you might receive one of them or at least a court order. Cohen’s interaction with the audience is exemplary in such a confined space.
Not only did he take the pummelling every time his elder brother get two and two wrong (the heir’s head could never be so dinted) but later, when at Uppsala he meets Gertrude and woos her for himself he’s a little chagrined to find his father approving then thrusting to the elder brother who unlike Gertrude has a choice, and takes it. We learn later of the long-standing affair, with a timetabling to ensure Hamlet really is Hamlet’s as it were.
Cohen revisits the original military rationale and keeps Young Fortinbras of Norway at the forefront of the narrative, when calling on the impress of service, and evoking the uses of war and a state under siege. Hence Laertes, despite his rashness in plunging straight for Claudius on his return from Paris and nearly killing him, is just the kind of soldier Claudius needs.
Hamlet on the other hand had infinitely more chances to kill him, Claudius reflects, and fails utterly, merely dispatching poor Polonius when logic would tell him Claudius has no need to skulk. No, madness in great ones must not unchecked go – nor incompetence.
Cohen deploys casual anti-Semitism, mixing up the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern names to the extent the audience almost sigh when he gets it right. The two Hebrews have also failed, so are dispatched on that mission to England which offers to remit England’s ‘tribute’ to Denmark. Cohen never relinquishes the realpolitik behind Denmark’s civil and drinking breaches. England’s been warned before.
And there’s Yorick, who spends much of Claudius’ youth berating him for losing a bride to his brother and perpetrating hang-dog looks – Yorick’s dead now of course. That doesn’t prevent Claudius revenging himself on his skull, at the least.
Rowe directs with clean lighting interspersed with blackouts – including a rapid off/on set of cameos where Cohen’s glimpsed with a femur he brandishes earlier, leaping out at alarming corners of the room. Rowe invests the sonics with some brass fanfares and a discreetly swelling use of symphonic music, three chirruping Mahler symphonies, Sibelius 4, Mendelssohn and was it Berlioz’s Tristia Hamlet march?
She’s also elicited from Cohen his crispest, most animated performance to date. There’s more variety in this performance than anything since the magnificent Harvey Matusow, and more fleetness, mobility of expression and varietal snarl. This show has legs as well as stray femurs and will soon I trust breathe its sallow-suited brilliance in wider venues – and implicate others in this very different I, Claudius.
Evening Argus
MARY KALMUS
Robert Cohen’s single-handed portrayal of Hamlet’s cynical and at times world-weary uncle (or mayhaps father!) Claudius was both entertaining and intellectually-satisfying.
A side-lined, much-maligned character, Claudius was given both breath and breadth through Robert’s precisely-delivered and carefully-worded monologue.
Although the idea of writing from a minor character’s point of view is nothing new, Claudius’ take on Hamlet’s alternately manic and “mopey” state, Ophelia’s “wet and wispy nature” and his abiding adoration of the glorious Gertrude “my lady wife, the love of my life,” added new spice to a tragic set of circumstances that still intrigue today.
Hamlet may not be “much of a one for carousing,” but director Jenny Rowe’s production imbued his evil elder with a mischief and a lust for life that, despite the twists and turns of the Danish court, remain undimmed until his denouement, marked subtly by the tightening of a red scarf about his throat.
5/10/15
MARY KALMUS
Robert Cohen’s single-handed portrayal of Hamlet’s cynical and at times world-weary uncle (or mayhaps father!) Claudius was both entertaining and intellectually-satisfying.
A side-lined, much-maligned character, Claudius was given both breath and breadth through Robert’s precisely-delivered and carefully-worded monologue.
Although the idea of writing from a minor character’s point of view is nothing new, Claudius’ take on Hamlet’s alternately manic and “mopey” state, Ophelia’s “wet and wispy nature” and his abiding adoration of the glorious Gertrude “my lady wife, the love of my life,” added new spice to a tragic set of circumstances that still intrigue today.
Hamlet may not be “much of a one for carousing,” but director Jenny Rowe’s production imbued his evil elder with a mischief and a lust for life that, despite the twists and turns of the Danish court, remain undimmed until his denouement, marked subtly by the tightening of a red scarf about his throat.
5/10/15
BROADWAYBABY.COM – Charley Ville
Something Rotten, not to be confused with the 2015 Broadway musical of the same name, is this time Hamlet’s villainous uncle, Claudius’s version of events, told as if he were briefing the audience- his newly formed privy council. Part parody, part farce, it’s an enjoyable one-man skit that reverses poles from tragic to comic.
The overall result was a neat and tasty dish, made and delivered by safe hands.
Soloist Robert Cohen impresses as the guilt-ridden king in a series of finely wrought scenes that shadowed their source faithfully. The overall result was a neat and tasty dish, made and delivered by safe hands.
Too eager to please? Perhaps a little, but its Shakespeare-lite, Blackadder language and the careful positioning of gags within a good amount of exposition, didst both their part do in general merriment. My problem would be that spin-offs, when they don’t clear the bat cleanly, will always be subject to unfavourable comparison. This one sticks so closely to the rather contorted plot of its source, the latter’s least attractive quality, that some of the would-be more interesting elements to the narrative, for instance, Claudius’s possible paternity of Hamlet, are made to look limp. They don’t feel convincing or moving. And the jokes run the gauntlet of being either too referential or too laboured.
It’s a shame really because we all love a historical drama, especially a comedy, and this one attempts to take this cultural trophy and give it a bit of a buff. Although, I will confess, I’ve never read Hamlet but I might do now.
Something Rotten, not to be confused with the 2015 Broadway musical of the same name, is this time Hamlet’s villainous uncle, Claudius’s version of events, told as if he were briefing the audience- his newly formed privy council. Part parody, part farce, it’s an enjoyable one-man skit that reverses poles from tragic to comic.
The overall result was a neat and tasty dish, made and delivered by safe hands.
Soloist Robert Cohen impresses as the guilt-ridden king in a series of finely wrought scenes that shadowed their source faithfully. The overall result was a neat and tasty dish, made and delivered by safe hands.
Too eager to please? Perhaps a little, but its Shakespeare-lite, Blackadder language and the careful positioning of gags within a good amount of exposition, didst both their part do in general merriment. My problem would be that spin-offs, when they don’t clear the bat cleanly, will always be subject to unfavourable comparison. This one sticks so closely to the rather contorted plot of its source, the latter’s least attractive quality, that some of the would-be more interesting elements to the narrative, for instance, Claudius’s possible paternity of Hamlet, are made to look limp. They don’t feel convincing or moving. And the jokes run the gauntlet of being either too referential or too laboured.
It’s a shame really because we all love a historical drama, especially a comedy, and this one attempts to take this cultural trophy and give it a bit of a buff. Although, I will confess, I’ve never read Hamlet but I might do now.
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REMOTEGOAT – David Rumelle
There is no stereotype here in this tour de force of Robert Cohen's devising, writing and performance. It succeeds on so many levels – most of all in that it neatly sums up the entire Shakespeare “version” – in an hour and a half (including interval). We are presented with an utterly charming, trustworthy and engaging character who gradually reveals his many layers – as an onion would shed its skin. No facet of this character is unexplored. As one audience member said during the interval, “It’s far more compelling than sitting through a tedious four hours of the original”.
Taken from the point of view of Hamlet's Uncle Claudius, this adaptation tells the entire story with an ease, fluidity and a fully rounded characterisation, yet from another perspective. In fact, for any school or college wanting the story spelt out, look no further. It is an invaluable aid to anyone studying this play.
Robert Cohen clearly has an encyclopaedic knowledge of this revenge tragedy – to the extent that every character, plot reference, motivation and opinion is woven into his monologue – even down to a precise chronology of the 100 days of the reign of Hamlet's uncle – to the extent that loose ends and questions are answered. Every line gives Claudius motivation and brings the whole revenger’s tragedy element to the forefront. This has to be the most rounded and in-depth portrayal of a relatively secondary character in all the adaptations of this most famous of plays and delicately balances comedy, pathos, drama and ultimate tragedy. Robert Cohen pushes this character and the plot into areas that have hitherto never been explored – and even raises laughs on subjects such as Polonius’s murder, Opehlia’s madness and ultimate drowning – without resorting to low comedy. His portrayal must be the first Claudius to ever get laughs. Cohen’s superbly crafted and eloquent language even includes spoonerisms for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to great effect!
One of the highlights of the piece is Claudius’s adverse reaction to the play The Murder of Gonzago.
Running through the piece is the theme of the state of the graveyard and the Sexton at Elsinore – which produces some excellent opportunities to also understand and have a glimpse into the character of the much neglected Yorick, the Court Jester (including a very convincing skull!) It is indicative of Cohen's consummate skill as a writer and actor that the piece never goes overboard or becomes self-indulgent – indeed it triumphs as a fully rounded, skilful and truthful portrayal. He moves effortlessly between the play’s key scenes – although the piece is in its early stages and certain speeches may at times be slightly script-bound and can afford a slowing down, which will not hamper the show's momentum. Indeed the audience hangs on every word – particularly the final confession. The fact that a member of the audience even shouted out an answer to one of Claudius’s questions at one point is indicative of how engaging and totally believable this piece is – I would dearly love to see an A level or drama student’s reaction to this gem of a piece, as I’m sure it would become even more interactive and he will have them eating out of his hand (as indeed was the packed house at the Dukebox Theatre).
Robert Cohen has the enviable ability to hold an audience's attention for a sustained period and have them hanging on his every word – no mean feat! I sincerely hope this production is revived very shortly and that as many lovers of Shakespeare's original will venture out to see this in-depth perspective.
There is no stereotype here in this tour de force of Robert Cohen's devising, writing and performance. It succeeds on so many levels – most of all in that it neatly sums up the entire Shakespeare “version” – in an hour and a half (including interval). We are presented with an utterly charming, trustworthy and engaging character who gradually reveals his many layers – as an onion would shed its skin. No facet of this character is unexplored. As one audience member said during the interval, “It’s far more compelling than sitting through a tedious four hours of the original”.
Taken from the point of view of Hamlet's Uncle Claudius, this adaptation tells the entire story with an ease, fluidity and a fully rounded characterisation, yet from another perspective. In fact, for any school or college wanting the story spelt out, look no further. It is an invaluable aid to anyone studying this play.
Robert Cohen clearly has an encyclopaedic knowledge of this revenge tragedy – to the extent that every character, plot reference, motivation and opinion is woven into his monologue – even down to a precise chronology of the 100 days of the reign of Hamlet's uncle – to the extent that loose ends and questions are answered. Every line gives Claudius motivation and brings the whole revenger’s tragedy element to the forefront. This has to be the most rounded and in-depth portrayal of a relatively secondary character in all the adaptations of this most famous of plays and delicately balances comedy, pathos, drama and ultimate tragedy. Robert Cohen pushes this character and the plot into areas that have hitherto never been explored – and even raises laughs on subjects such as Polonius’s murder, Opehlia’s madness and ultimate drowning – without resorting to low comedy. His portrayal must be the first Claudius to ever get laughs. Cohen’s superbly crafted and eloquent language even includes spoonerisms for Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to great effect!
One of the highlights of the piece is Claudius’s adverse reaction to the play The Murder of Gonzago.
Running through the piece is the theme of the state of the graveyard and the Sexton at Elsinore – which produces some excellent opportunities to also understand and have a glimpse into the character of the much neglected Yorick, the Court Jester (including a very convincing skull!) It is indicative of Cohen's consummate skill as a writer and actor that the piece never goes overboard or becomes self-indulgent – indeed it triumphs as a fully rounded, skilful and truthful portrayal. He moves effortlessly between the play’s key scenes – although the piece is in its early stages and certain speeches may at times be slightly script-bound and can afford a slowing down, which will not hamper the show's momentum. Indeed the audience hangs on every word – particularly the final confession. The fact that a member of the audience even shouted out an answer to one of Claudius’s questions at one point is indicative of how engaging and totally believable this piece is – I would dearly love to see an A level or drama student’s reaction to this gem of a piece, as I’m sure it would become even more interactive and he will have them eating out of his hand (as indeed was the packed house at the Dukebox Theatre).
Robert Cohen has the enviable ability to hold an audience's attention for a sustained period and have them hanging on his every word – no mean feat! I sincerely hope this production is revived very shortly and that as many lovers of Shakespeare's original will venture out to see this in-depth perspective.
