REVIEW: Grand Theft Hamlet [2024]

Rating: R | Runtime: 91 minutes
Release Date: December 6th, 2024 (UK) / January 17th, 2025 (USA)
Studio: MUBI
Director(s): Sam Crane & Pinny Grylls
Writer(s): Sam Crane & Pinny Grylls

It’s real to me.

It’s the third lockdown of the COVID pandemic and out-of-work actors Sam Crane and Mark Oosterveen are trying to remain sane. Live theater has yet to re-open and other options are limited at best. So, all they can do is stay inside and cope—something that’s perhaps a little easier for Sam while living with his family (partner Pinny Grylls and their children) than Mark who’s conversely been forced to isolate alone. Video games become their solace as an outlet approximating the escape they yearn for with Grand Theft Auto Online providing an interesting artistic experiment by way of the Vinewood Bowl in Los Santos County. Because if a giant amphitheater exists, why shouldn’t Shakespeare be performed?

Recruiting Pinny as their in-game filmmaker, the trio begin to capture their online interactions as they brainstorm what Hamlet might look like on that stage. The first dry run almost gets through the opening scene before random players and NPC police arrive to kill them in cold blood, so the truth of this logistical nightmare rears its head very early. Does getting that much dialogue out prove it could be possible, though? With enough people to fill out the cast and perhaps provide a bit of security against unwanted guests, this lark proves viable. So, Sam and Mark hit the beach with guns drawn so Pinny can film a call for actors before the “wasted” banner covers their screens. Then they wait to see who shows.

While the performance itself is also called Grand Theft Hamlet (as adapted and directed by Sam and Mark), this film (directed by Sam and Pinny) is a documentary into the process of bringing the trio’s vision to fruition. We get to watch the auditions, scouting missions, and honest conversations about soldiering on as the world starts to reopen and beckon them away from this virtual hotbed of hedonistic carnage. We meet the groupies who start to show up during rehearsals with transportation and moral support via emotes. And we begin to fully understand the salve for the soul this project supplies its cast of willing participants desperate for something tangible to hold onto in a moment of debilitating uncertainty.

The most memorable moments are, of course, those that are completely unplanned. Sam falling to his death seconds after everyone agrees the position of their blimp is perfectly measured so no one can fall through the crack between it and the roof. GTA players getting into their faces, seemingly understanding what’s happening when asked not to shoot, and then opening fire with reckless abandon anyway. They all eventually start to get used to the chaos of their surroundings, but that doesn’t stop them from still earnestly asking strangers if they heard the last soliloquy and if they thought it was good. Some of them do get a little too comfortable, though, ultimately finding they’ve neglected their actual lives by spending all their time logged on.

It’s fun to get lost in the spontaneity of jumping without a safety net. There’s ParTebMosMir showing off their butt with lewd dialogue before suddenly endearing themselves to the magic and delivering a Quran reading to join the spirit of performance. Even the final performance gets waylaid by unavoidable snafus. Anything can literally happen. Last-minute casting changes. Marital strife. Genuine admissions about participating being a dream come true. Those wholesome moments of love and humanity against a backdrop of sex and violence are the highlight. Because whether a serious discussion or heartfelt revelation is being shared, the NPCs are still barking their scripted conspiracy theories while staring them down for a fight. That juxtaposition is everything.