Hamlet Revival Review: Hiran Abeysekera’s Unconventional Dane Steals the Show Off Broadway

It’s the white stocking cap that sets the tone. Hiran Abeysekera dons one during Hamlet’s frigid, storm-tossed journey from Denmark to England in this Off Broadway revival, which premiered Monday at BAM’s Harvey Theatre after a successful run at London’s National Theatre.

The headwear offers a subtle nod to what Shakespeare’s brooding prince might have looked like if Truman Capote had ever taken on the role—though Capote’s version would likely have featured a cashmere cap, not polyester. Abeysekera’s performance doesn’t mimic Capote’s signature soprano whine, but his delivery is just as distinctive, if not always decipherable. His high-pitched voice oscillates unpredictably through Hamlet’s soliloquies, stretching vowels in a manner reminiscent of a tenor warming up before a performance. At times, he punctuates speeches with exaggerated, jargon-laden exclamations—lines not written by Shakespeare but delivered with the flair of a Kewpie Doll with a voice.

What truly evokes Capote’s essence, however, is Abeysekera’s relentless irony. Hamlet’s mockery extends to nearly every character: Polonius (Matthew Cottle, hilariously so), Claudius (Alistair Petrie, tragically so), Gertrude (Ayesha Dharker, incompetently so), Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Hari Mackinnon and Joe Bolland, campily so), and Ophelia (Francesca Mills, with more to come on her). Even the staging of The Mousetrap becomes a vehicle for ridicule. Abeysekera doesn’t stop at mocking others—he sends up the text itself.

Robert Hastie’s direction channels the irreverent energy of Sam Pinkleton, known for Oh, Mary! and the recent The Rocky Horror Show revival. The result is a Hamlet that’s frequently amusing, occasionally uproarious, but rarely tragic. As Susan Sontag observed, tragedy and irony are incompatible. The rare moment of genuine sorrow arrives during Claudius’ confession:

“Oh, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven.”

Abeysekera’s Hamlet shares a flirtatious moment with Rosencrantz in front of Guildenstern—is this Dane gay? Not necessarily; he’s merely lampooning a friend’s sexual orientation. Like Capote, Abeysekera transcends traditional gender norms, though he occasionally adopts a butch persona with explosive Richard Burton-esque outbursts (think The Robe) that electrify the theater.

One aspect of Hamlet’s personality rarely explored is his vanity. Abeysekera leans into it from the start, striding onstage in high-heel boots (designed by Ben Stones). It’s a bold choice for an actor who isn’t tall—did no one warn this Hamlet that his love interest, Ophelia, is a little person? Perhaps he’s compensating for their height difference, or maybe he simply prefers kissing her while seated. Either way, it’s a choice that underscores the production’s unconventional, modern sensibilities.