Mark Lockyer stars in The Play’s The Thing. A One Person Hamlet, edited for a single performer and directed by Fiona Laird, at Wilton’s Music Hall Graces Alley, London E1 8JB, 1 April to 12 April. Tickets: http://www.wiltons.org.uk/
Mark Lockyer was a rising star at the RSC, thought by many to be one of the greatest Shakespearean actors of his age, whose theatre credits include major roles in The Alchemist, The Tempest, Romeo and Juliet, King Lear, and The Taming of the Shrew. Then he had a complete mental collapse. He ended up an addict, in prison (where he was finally diagnosed as bipolar), homeless and was rescued by the St Mungo’s charity. He has now started to rebuild his life.
Given your personal battles with mental health, how does it feel to step into the role of Hamlet, a character famously grappling with inner turmoil?
That’s a very good question. The themes in Hamlet of loneliness and madness – whatever one perceives that to be – it’s a very wide-ranging subject. But it’s a fact that Hamlet talks about grief and loneliness and isolation and being paralysed to make decisions and feeling sad and alone. You don’t have to have experienced mental illness to have experienced some of those themes but I suppose it kind of helps you to understand. But having experienced extremes of mood and highs and lows and the consequences of that in terms of not being able to work and being under the doctor and hospitalised, those experiences give you a kind of base to understand imaginatively what Hamlet is going through.
First and foremost, the play is so beautifully written. Shakespeare beautifully captures the essence and the reality of all those states, from love to joy to sadness to hate, revenge, madness, he’s the driver and really nothing I can bring can be any better than what Shakespeare wrote. It’s all in the text. And if I trust that first and foremost, something will happen and the mixture of my experience and who I am as a person with all the things that have happened to me – good and bad – will imbue itself into that text. It’s my interpretation, but it’s not me coming to it going oh, because I was ill or mad, however you want to call it, it’s got to be like this. No, Shakespeare’s very specific about what he wants. So I suppose it’s a mixture of my experience, not only personally, but also my experience as an actor – I’ve been doing it a long time and I’ve done a lot of Shakespeare, I was taught by the best teachers by the best directors, and I suppose it’s all about timing and synchronicity and coming to this with all those experiences. It’s not daunting, at the very least I have something to offer, but it’s the text that comes first. Shakespeare’s text is what is so important. I have to honour that.
Your past struggles with undiagnosed bipolar disorder led to some extreme experiences—how have they shaped your approach to performing Shakespeare now?
Well, I don’t think I could really give you an accurate answer how it’s changed the way that I perform Shakespeare or anything else. My experiences were extreme and the consequences were pretty grim but I think what that process did for me was to develop as a human being. I had to first of all get well and that took a long time. A very, very, very long time… years. I lost 11 years of my career through mental illness. I had to come to terms with serious issues around addiction and get clean. I had to manage my mental health and look at my life in a very different way. Acting was not my primary concern for many years and in essence what I lost, which was very good, was my experiences really humbled me. And I didn’t view my work and my career in the same way that I did. I’d lost everything. I still feel that I’m still catching up. And I’ll never get there. You know, illness robbed me of a huge part of my formative professional life and generations of people you know, changed in my world as I was away and I came back and my brethren and my friends had developed and progressed, and that was great to see, but also difficult because I felt I’d missed the bus. But the difference today is I’ve accepted it, as an actor today I don’t need validation I used to as a younger man. It was everything to me, I needed people to think that I was great and I don’t need that now.
I was asked recently why am I taking a gamble in doing this? A gamble for what? I’ve nothing to lose because I’ve lost it anyway. If people come to Hamlet and they think it’s crap and they don’t like me, well, I’m not saying that won’t hurt, but the sun will still shine. I still have to buy the shopping. And you know. Nobody other than a small group of people will know about this Hamlet anyway. I don’t walk into this thinking that it’s going to change anybody’s life. It’s a play. It’s a piece of entertainment.
The places, situations that I’ve been in, being a good actor wasn’t going to help me. No way. You come back from that with a very realistic, honest, kinder more compassionate view first of all of myself and my failings and of other people. There’s a lot about the acting world, which just doesn’t interest me because I don’t need to be in that kind of circus. My talent wasn’t diminished at all but my attitude changed and it will be what it will be and I have nothing to lose.
What was it like collaborating with Fiona Laird again, years after your marriage ended due to your mental health struggles?
It was a joy. We hadn’t seen each other for a very long time, maybe four years. She came with her new husband, George, to see me in a little fringe show that I was experimenting with. Funnily enough, where I was playing all the parts. In this case, it was just two, a man and a wife. Not that I had set out to do that. It was during Covid and the actress. Well we couldn’t rehearse. Anyway, the point is she came and she saw the show and she really loved it and she came to me with the idea. When Fiona rang me a week later and said I’ve got this idea about Hamlet, how do you feel? I thought I thought it was mad. I just thought it was preposterous to be honest, I thought, are you mental? And she asked me to come to her house to read the play and record it for her as a favour. I sat down. I read it. She recorded it. And about a month later she presented me with a very rough cut. To be fair, as I was reading the whole play, the whole 4 and a half hour play, can you imagine?
We then began the journey of collaborating, cutting it down to 90 minutes. On a personal level. I have always had the greatest of respect for Fiona as a very fine director. We’ve since become very good friends and you have to ask yourself. What do you want from life? For me. I’d like some peace in my life with no conflict if I can possibly help it. Sometimes that’s not possible, but with people it can be. What is the point in holding on to resentment or pain in the past if you can change it? Sometimes that is impossible, and with Fiona it was very possible and we of course, talked early on and worked through some things that had happened.
The great thing, perhaps, above all else, is that through this we have healed a relationship. I get on very well with Fiona. I get on very well with her husband. Surely that is the essence of life, isn’t it? Some peace, compassion. Why not? My experience is you sleep better. You know? But then again, I’ve learnt to be very forgiving of things in my life, because I had to forgive myself. The wonderful thing about life I’ve realised is that people are very forgiving if you’re honest and you meet them half way.
Rufus Norris described The Play’s The Thing as “extraordinary” – what makes this version of Hamlet unique from other productions?
To be standing alone on a stage telling this story with 21 other characters other than Hamlet going through one person in real time is in itself, you could say quite a feat, quite an event in itself. Fascinating not only to do, but I hope to watch, but also it’s in keeping with the play of Hamlet. Hamlet is an isolated character. His only real friend other than Horatio, who he doesn’t say everything to is the audience.
Through this play, about a man who is isolated, with no props, in a single space, in real time, it is wonderfully theatrical, compelling and unique. That doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s going to work. It has taken three years of work to come to this stage. But it doesn’t mean that it’s any better than anybody else’s production of Hamlet. It’s just different. Nothing has been compromised. No story has been cut, no character has been cut. It is purely Shakespeare’s story. It’s come down to a 90 minute show, all the extraneous flab and fat on the play has been removed. What’s left is this fantastic thriller narrative that is absolutely crystal clear. There was an imaginary post-it note on the editing computer which said ‘Will a 16-year-old kid who’s never seen Shakespeare before really understand this?’ And I was meticulous in challenging Fiona. What I am most proud of is that it is thrillingly clear. If you have never seen a Shakespeare play in your life you will understand it. There are no scene changes, I’m asking the audience to use their imagination. But it’s very nice that somebody would say that it’s extraordinary.
Your one-man show Living With the Lights On was deeply personal – does Hamlet feel just as autobiographical in some ways?
No, not really. In Living With the Lights On, you witnessed a career, my career, my Shakespeare career anyway, ruined, destroyed by mental illness. And along with that, hope and possibilities and everything else. I don’t feel coming back to Hamlet is in any way autobiographical at all, but the experience of performing Living With the Lights On was getting good at being a solo performer, I toured it here and abroad for the best part of 3 1/2 years and I got good at it. I got good at being a good storyteller. So coming to a solo Hamlet, it’s not your acting that is the first and foremost thing you need, you need to understand what telling a story to an audience is about. Two years went into developing the text so what’s wonderful about coming to Hamlet now is that it seems a natural progression from Living With the Lights On, my second show, Keep on Walking, Federick, and my third show, Take Off Your Cornflakes.
Now I am attempting to use my skills, as a Shakespeare performer, having been taught at the Royal Shakespeare Company over many, many years by the greatest teachers. It seems just the right time and I hold on to the fact that this wasn’t my idea. I didn’t wake up one morning and go. Oh, wow. I want to play Hamlet. It came to me, and like most things in life, the best things just come. And so here we are. This coming together of so many strands is terrific but autobiographical? No, not at all.
What message do you hope audiences take away from seeing The Play’s The Thing, both as a piece of theatre and as a reflection of mental health struggles?
Shakespeare is something that I was always passionate about from when I was a kid at school. All I ever really wanted to do when I became an actor was to speak Shakespeare. I found Shakespeare fantastic, it was like a puzzle, you know, suddenly working out, oh my gosh, that’s what that means. And then I went to the Royal Shakespeare Company and watched other people be really brilliant at it. Adrian Noble said something to us as a company, which I’ll never forget, ‘You know, you have a duty as a performer to make young people want to come back and see another Shakespeare’. And that stayed with me because I got this bee in my bonnet that it’s so important with Shakespeare that people can understand it. And I think that the way that I have seen Shakespeare performed at times has been pretty shoddy because they don’t trust the text.
When Shakespeare’s actors got up at The Globe or wherever they did performed in 1575, or whenever it was, they had no set and most people couldn’t read. It was the word that was the most important thing. It was the spoken word. The hearing word. Audience – ‘audio’ to hear. Shakespeare’s audience were naturally attuned differently to modern day audiences. The spoken word was everything.
I’ve been living with this text for nearly 3 1/2 years now. And if you just honour it, it will work. But I see that people just don’t know the how to do that or they don’t have trust and well, I hope that people get from coming to see our Hamlet is that the simplicity and beauty of this language is everything and that you can understand Shakespeare. It’s not an elitist thing. It’s perhaps been made elitist and I have no idea why. If you walk into Waterstone’s, you’ll see a whole wall full of books with academics talking bollocks about Shakespeare. It’s not to be studied, it’s to be spoken. And if somebody walks away going wow, I really enjoyed that. I really understood it, wow, what a play, then that’s really important.
Young people were absolutely at the centre of my mind because that was how I was encouraged when I was a younger actor and that’s what I feel now as an actor and producer that, you know, if you’re going to do a Shakespeare, people have got to understand it. Fuck the set, fuck the costumes. Just do it. But people don’t know how. It’s a dying art, and I was blessed at the beginning of my career to see some wonderful, wonderful classical actors. Today a lot of it is just poorly spoken. So hopefully people will walk away and go I really enjoyed that and enjoy seeing the form. The only thing that’s going to hold an audience is not my acting it’s the narrative. And this is absolutely crystal clear.
From a mental health perspective, what a journey I’ve been on. I was so ill I couldn’t even wash, couldn’t make a cup of tea. I was incapable of looking after myself. I’ve been in prison. I’ve had years of being in mental institutions. I’ve lived within the homeless sector at St Mungo’s for 4 1/2 years. They were instrumental in me getting back on my feet. If anyone with a mental health problem comes to see this and goes, My God. If he can do it, I can do it…
From a mental health perspective, people get better. It’s not a life sentence. People get better. Not everybody’s running around murdering people. The media has so much to answer for the way that mental health is portrayed and the stigma still around it. I’ve paid my dues. And I’m standing up there proud as punch, doing my stuff. And if nobody likes it, fine. I’ve got no control over anything. I have no idea what message people will take from it really, but I have hopes, which I’ve just shared. We get better. Thank you.