Dane in the mirror

A one-person take on Hamlet starring a famous comedian sounds like a recipe for self-indulgence. (Or the opening premise for a deliberately off-kilter affair, as in the ridiculous and sublime Gary Busey’s One-Man Hamlet, performed by David Carl at Chicago Shakespeare as part of the theater’s Shakespeare 400 festival in 2016.)

Hamlet
Through 5/4: Tue and Thu-Fri 7 PM; Wed 4/24 7 PM and Wed 5/1 2 PM, Sat 4/27 7 PM and 5/4 2 PM, Sun 4/28 3 PM; Chicago Shakespeare Theater, 800 E. Grand, 312-595-5600, chicagoshakes.com, $83-$150

But as anyone who has followed Eddie Izzard for a while knows, she’s not just a mugging shtick machine, but an actor of sinewy intelligence and quicksilver chops. Her take on Shakespeare’s tragic Danish prince (now in a short run at Chicago Shakes) may not be the deepest or most lyrical you’ll ever see. But I found that it provided a chance to connect with parts of Hamlet’s character and circumstances that I hadn’t considered before.

Izzard, who is genderfluid and announced last year that she would also be using the name Suzy, knows what it’s like to move through the world with multiple understandings and permutations of one’s core identity, just as Hamlet does. And in terms of performance stamina, Izzard also won attention for running multiple marathons for charity, without any real training in long-distance running. (The 2010 BBC miniseries Eddie Izzard: Marathon Man, traced part of that journey.)

That stamina surely serves her well in this show. Though the script has been shaved down considerably by adapter Mark Izzard (the performer’s brother), it’s still two-plus hours on a bare stage with no props (Selina Cadell directs). Simple but effective shifts in lighting (designed by Tyler Elich) announce the arrival of the ghost of King Hamlet. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are literally hand puppets: Izzard holds her hands up in front of her to depict the interchangeable stooges of Hamlet’s scheming uncle Claudius, who of course murdered his father and married his mother, Queen Gertrude.

By having one person invest in all these characters, Izzard creates a Hamlet who is literally surrounded by people who look exactly like him, but whose motives he cannot fully discern or trust. Where should he focus his rage and grief, and when? It’s a bit like a Shakespearean take on the famous fun house shoot-out scene in The Lady From Shanghai. (Izzard’s oversized shadow also pops up at key moments to suggest the dark thoughts haunting the prince.)

Izzard’s embodiment of the two women in the play—Gertrude and Ophelia—suggests that they are, like Hamlet, caught up in a web spun by powerful men. In particular, having the same person play both the grieving prince and the young woman driven mad by that same prince murdering her father shows the strong emotional bonds and history of trauma shared by Hamlet and Ophelia. But while the former is expected by traditional masculine standards to “take arms against a sea of troubles,” the latter feels she has no choice but to consign herself and her troubles to the waters.

There are, as one might expect, plenty of strong comedic bits threaded throughout the show (the aforementioned scenes with R and G and the gravedigger are particular crowd-pleasers). But Izzard and her collaborators have invested a lot of thought into making the story clear and resonant. I’m not sure how well someone who has not seen Hamlet before will follow all the narrative intricacies here, but Izzard’s attention to the language is palpable without being fussy. She also draws in the audience at key moments, particularly in Hamlet’s “What’s Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba . . .” soliloquy after the prince meets with the player king. She moves offstage to be closer to us, as if her Hamlet is really asking us, “How do I find the passion in real life this guy finds onstage?”

Izzard clearly has passion and empathy for Hamlet, and that transcends the occasional awkward transitions between characters. By showing us a man who is betrayed by the people who should care for him most, and who cannot break out of that toxic hall of mirrors without losing everything, her Hamlet stands alone as a daring and deceptively simple take on one of the best-known stories in English drama.