It's not only the ghost of Hamlet's father that stalks the Wooster Group's idiosyncratic, often labored examination of Shakespeare's melancholy Danish prince.
Hovering against the back wall of the Wooster production of "Hamlet," which is on view at the Public Theater, is a grainy film version of the celebrated 1964 Broadway revival that starred Richard Burton.
The movie unspools spasmodically as the Wooster version, directed by Elizabeth LeCompete, plays out in front of it. Admittedly, there is a certain fascination in watching the two productions unfold _ with the use of jump cuts and fast-forwarding _ at approximately the same time. Sort of like synchronized swimming but without the water.
Yet the eye is inevitably drawn more to the minimalist, black-and-white movie featuring not only Burton, but Hume Cronyn as Polonius, Alfred Drake as Claudius, Eileen Herlie as Gertrude and Linda Marsh as Ophelia. And check out a youthful John Cullum as Laertes. They are all eminently watchable.
Which brings us to LeCompete's crew, dominated by Scott Shepherd as an aggressive, pro-active Hamlet. Shepherd, a blond, sturdy actor, is an energetic performer, and he propels the on-stage production forward. His voice is strong and he gives the play's language its due, which can't said of some of the other actors in the Wooster Group, a collective of enterprising theater artists.
But then LeCompete's celebration is more of a visual homage, a high-tech honoring of the low-tech past. In contrast to the relatively plain, straightforward Burton version, the Wooster production is awash in technology _ television screens, overamplified sound, rock music and an eclectic array of costumes.
Of the other performers, Kate Valk does double duty as Hamlet's mother, Gertrude, and as his beloved Ophelia. Ari Fliakos works even harder as Claudius, Marcellus, the ghost and the gravedigger. One wonders why Bill Raymond is left with only Polonius. Unfortunately, the acting style is more declamatory than illuminating.
And once you see what LeCompete and company are up to, the novelty of the production quickly wears thin, particularly since the evening lasts nearly three hours.
But then there are those cinematic flickerings of Burton, dressed all in black and emoting like crazy. Makes you wish you had been a member of the audience at Broadway's Lunt-Fontanne Theatre 43 years ago and seen the actor's Hamlet in person. Now that would have been a revelation.
