“Hamstrung.” Yorick’s Untold Story

Hamlet, along with A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Tempest and Macbeth, are probably the Shakespeare plays that are most often revisited today by writers, with very different intentions and strategies in the creation of a new work. In George Rennie’s Hamstrung, billed as “a solo tragicomic ghost story,” a particular character from Hamlet is deployed as a springboard to talk about love, loneliness, identity and whose story gets told. The basic concept is intriguing since this writer and performer adopts the perspective of Yorick, old King Hamlet’s jester, who of course never appears in the Shakespearean tragedy, except as a skull which in Act V Hamlet finds in the graveyard. As suggested by the title, Rennie’s protagonist is indeed ‘hamstrung’, questioning himself and the audience from the very beginning as to who he is and what he is doing there. The play opens as Rennie\Yorick, dressed in a jester’s costume, his eyes darting here and there, a jittery glance and gesture every so often to audience members, enters what is a small studio space at the Pleasance venue. This is littered with letters and a few red apples, while upstage a line of funeral urns, candles and flowers, suggests, perhaps, the graveyard where Yorick is buried. He begins (as he will end) with the opening line of Hamlet, spoken by Bernardo, ‘Who’s there?”, a line which Peter Brook sustained stood at the heart of the tragedy. Breaking down the fourth wall, Yorick makes a direct audience address: ”Why have you called me here? Am I real?” He invites one audience member onstage to assist him with the story, pretending to think that the person is a performer, while another spectator is called on to read a letter, immersive techniques which are adopted throughout. While this audience interaction and immersion set up an excellent and hilarious rapport with the audience, it sometimes prevented me from relating fully to the story and identifying with the characters. Rennie’s take on ‘Yorick, the greatest clown’ swiftly unfolds; he was a member of a travelling troupe, so he has an insider’s knowledge of Hamlet, Old Hamlet, etc. But all was not well, he confides, hinting at the strict censorship laws in the Elizabethan era, “I became uncontrollable. This is why I am here.” The physical mistreatment he encountered is powerfully shown, as he struggles and squirms desperately to free himself from an imaginary attacker, who tries to throttle him and drag him offstage. His vulnerability and insecurity are foregrounded. “Shall I exit?,” he asks, inviting us to share his uncertainty as to what his next move should be. Then a quick switch and, through a mysterious door, he enters the castle of Elsinore, morphing into old King Hamlet. Asking the audience whether they like the King or not, he swiftly puts a crown on the head of a man sitting in the front row, making the King’s presence suddenly so much more tangible. Then another switch to Horatio and another, to Laertes, who confesses he wants to kill Hamlet for the wrong he has done his sister. Rennie’s masterful performance is captivating and this highly entertaining play can be enjoyed by both Shakespeare buffs and people who know very little about the Bard. Still, I came away with the feeling that there would still be a lot more to say about Yorick, whom Hamlet remembers so vividly as “a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times.”

From The Program

George Rennie is a writer, performer and theatre-maker working across mediums, often self-producing and creating work collaboratively. He writes existential comedies, speculative narratives and stories that question and intrigue. All his work centres joy and playfulness, seeking to unlock the audiences’ inner child by integrating poetry, irreverence and interaction.