'Grand Theft Hamlet' Review: 'The Play's The Thing'
In spite of all the surreal emotions that arise from 2020, I find it hard to imagine how we will talk about the Great Covid Lockdown to our children or grandchildren when such an absurd disruption to regularity is so normalised in the collective psyche. Roads and skies fell silent for the first time in centuries. And the way this time was occupied, or preoccupied rather, varied for everyone. I remember many of my evenings fondly; holding shopkeepers at gunpoint, beating strangers on the streets with my bare fists, and smashing aeroplanes into mountains before telling my friends I missed them as I signed off for the night. It was the modern equivalent of visiting the playground to play tag, except with more firearms at my disposal than I had had when I was 9.
Grand Theft Auto V’s position in the cultural zeitgeist 11 years post-release is simultaneously astonishing and unsurprising. But whilst I engaged in ceaseless, pointless, joyful acts of destruction, actors Sam Crane, Mark Oosterveen, and documentary filmmaker Pinny Grills attempted to accomplish the hardest task in Grand Theft Auto history: creation. A performance of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet entirely within GTA Online’s open world, a process documented by Pinny using the engine’s in-game camera. Together, they take the “sandbox” definition of GTA to never-before-seen lengths. The film is in a long line of Machinima (a portmanteau of machine and cinema, where films and art are created with/within video games), however, this is the first time I can think of where a project of this nature has had cinema release and festival recognition on this level.
I was fortunate enough to catch the film at a BFI London Film Festival Press Screening, with it being one of my most anticipated of the festival. Subsequently, the festival screening at the BFI IMAX was entirely sold out, having been shown there for general audiences many times since. I was infatuated with the fact something so daringly daft could be shown on a screen of such scale. It is difficult to review the film in a typical way, as the Machinima documentary strips the film of many traditional filmmaking approaches. In one sense it is animation, given the adherence to the game’s computer graphics. But between scenes, shots linger on the sun rising over Los Santos’ hills, on NPCs spouting hostilities and satirical dialogue, and on iconic LS/LA landmarks going about their day. One foot in the real and one in the artificial.
Sam and Mark are professional actors (not to be confused with the CBBC presenting duo of the same name). Finding work, even purpose, as an actor is difficult already. Amid lockdown, it was tenfold. After a night of irregular murders and robbery, the two conveniently stumble across the Vinewood Bowl, an in-world performance space. They faff about for a bit and reminiscently perform some Shakespeare, a shared passion of theirs. Yearning for the stage, the two decide to do auditions and settle on Hamlet as their play of choice. It’s a little-known story by an up-and-coming writer about a boy who has to kill his uncle because his ghost-dad told him to. I think it’s kind of like Star Wars.
It’s a uniquely funny film, partly because GTA is an inherently funny game. The comedic style is familiar to anyone with access to YouTube in the 2010s and interest in gaming; a sort of modern, naturally occurring slapstick. Maybe it was the festival spirits in full swing, but it was apparent in my screening that a great time was had by all throughout. Sam and Mark’s ambitions or moments of seriousness are explosively undercut suddenly by random players bent on violence, (I will admit was frequently afraid to see my own name appear on-screen). The two assemble a motley crew of gamers interested in their project: there’s a recently out trans person, an aunt using her nephew’s PlayStation, Jen Cohn the voice actor of Pharah from Overwatch, a stay-at-home Dad, fellow actor friends, and many more. The sequence of assembling this team, the planning, and the eventual performance of Hamlet play out in the vein of a heist. Ironic, given that what they’re doing in a game designed for elaborate heists is avoiding performing one entirely.
Despite its documentary form, the film does have moments that feel somewhat staged for dramatic effect. Occasionally, the heavier emotional moments brought on by the lockdown feel pre-planned, such as an argument between Sam and Mark or a marital squabble between Pinny and Sam. To say they weren’t touching would be untrue and unfair. They are necessary for structuring the film and grounding the digital space in reality, however, it does disrupt the rapport the film has going at times. These moments still feel informal, and their artifice may also remind the audience that they are watching a performance about a performance, in a game, in a film that blurs the lines between the digital and real.
I want to note that the very concept of Grand Theft Hamlet creates a dialogue between the theatre, cinema, and computer game in a fascinating manner. Perhaps incidentally, the film brings down the walls between these mediums, forcing them to synthesise on screen, and in doing so posit the evolution of art forms. Each medium hinges on one another, theatrical production evolved into cinema with the advent of the film camera. Subsequently, cinematic technique and the interactivity of computers fused to become gaming. Each one is unique in its own way yet built on the principles of the previous. The film could also be read raising questions about virtual performance and identity. Like many of my own trans friends, themselves gamers, trans cast member Nora uses gaming as a chance to represent her gender digitally as well as in real life.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but that’s the film student in me. It is a delightful watch, and I have urged many of my friends, real and virtual, to see it. Perhaps because it succeeded in affecting me with a sense of comradery for the crew behind it. And I hope that if you see it, you do too. If nothing else, Grand Theft Hamlet is a testament to creativity. A reminder that in a world bent on violence, collapse, on self-destruction, art will always survive. And I don’t mean GTA.
Grand Theft Hamlet is in UK + Irish cinemas now, and will be available to stream on MUBI in early 2025.
Edited by Humaira Valera, Co-film & TV editor
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