On a chilly February evening in London, the conversation around Shakespeare’s most famous play took a sharp turn. The stars of a bold new film adaptation of Hamlet, Riz Ahmed and Morfydd Clark, sat down to discuss their modern take on the centuries-old tragedy, breathing fresh life—and plenty of adrenaline—into the Bard’s classic tale. According to the Associated Press, both Ahmed and Clark spoke candidly about the challenges and thrills of reimagining Shakespeare’s iconic characters in a contemporary world, one that feels as cold and ruthless as the original, yet unmistakably of our time.
Directed by Aneil Karia and written by Michael Lesslie, this adaptation is anything but traditional. The Guardian’s review paints a picture of a film that’s as stark as it is severe, trading in much of Shakespeare’s original text for a stripped-down, high-stakes narrative set against the backdrop of modern London. Here, the world of Hamlet is no longer one of Danish castles and royal intrigue but of shadowy family businesses, luxury SUVs tearing through neon-lit streets, and wedding parties tinged with suspicion and betrayal.
Riz Ahmed, who takes on the titular role, brings a raw energy to Hamlet, a prince haunted—perhaps literally, perhaps psychologically—by the ghost of his father. Avijit Dutt’s ghost appears not in some foggy battlement but on a bleak city rooftop, summoning Hamlet with chilling urgency. The Guardian notes that this ghostly encounter is one of the film’s most memorable scenes, setting the tone for a story that’s as much about urban alienation as it is about revenge.
“To be or not to be”—arguably the most famous line in all of English literature—gets a radical makeover in this version. As Ahmed explained to the Associated Press, the soliloquy is delivered not on a stage or in a quiet chamber, but in a speeding car, with Hamlet virtually screaming the words at the wheel. It’s a choice that underscores the character’s frantic indecision and the film’s relentless pace. “The Bard’s famous ‘to be or not to be’ speech is performed in a speeding car,” Ahmed said, highlighting the filmmakers’ commitment to reinventing the play’s most iconic moments for a new generation.
Modern London, in this adaptation, is a world where power is measured in real estate and ruthlessness. Claudius, played by Art Malik, is recast as a hard-faced property speculator, a man who has recently evicted a tented community led by Fortinbras from some of the city’s most coveted land. His ambitions don’t stop there—he’s also intent on marrying Hamlet’s mother, Gertrude, portrayed by Sheeba Chaddha. The Guardian draws a pointed parallel between Claudius’s machinations and the cutthroat world of contemporary business, suggesting that the character could easily be mistaken for someone out of TV’s Succession.
The film’s supporting cast is equally formidable. Timothy Spall brings a menacing charm to Polonius, whose murder at Hamlet’s hands is, in this telling, brutally explicit and far more deliberate than in Shakespeare’s original. Morfydd Clark’s Ophelia is a figure of deep pathos, wounded by Hamlet’s sudden and fanatical coldness. Her brother Laertes, played by Joe Alwyn, is drawn into the escalating family drama, adding yet another layer of tension to an already volatile situation.
One of the most daring choices by Karia and Lesslie is their willingness to cut much of the original text. Gone are many of the play’s famous soliloquies—including the beloved “Alas, poor Yorick” scene—leaving only the most essential lines. This pared-down approach, according to The Guardian, creates a film that’s both focused and unrelentingly tense. Yet, not all changes are without controversy: the absence of Ophelia’s mad scene is noted as a potential misjudgment, given its importance in the original play.
In this adaptation, Hamlet’s relationship with Ophelia is given slightly more weight, with some of his dialogue with Horatio rerouted to her. This shift amplifies the emotional stakes and gives Clark’s Ophelia a more central role in the prince’s unraveling. Still, the film’s overall tone is one of rigorous chill—a world in which empathy is in short supply and redemption even scarcer.
The production doesn’t just modernize the setting; it also invites viewers to question the very foundations of the story. What if Claudius, for all his unscrupulousness, is actually innocent of murder? What if the ghost’s accusation is nothing more than a figment of Hamlet’s tormented mind—a psychosexual projection of his own disgust and guilt? The Guardian points out that the film leaves these possibilities tantalizingly open, allowing for a more ambiguous and psychologically complex reading of the play’s events.
Ahmed’s portrayal of Hamlet is a study in contrasts—convulsed with weakness and self-hate, yet capable of explosive violence. The film’s approach to his madness is confrontational, almost performative, intended to embarrass the wrongdoers while sparing him from direct retribution. This strategy creates a growing sense of tension, a “miasma of authentic tension,” as The Guardian puts it, that hangs over every scene.
The modern-day adaptation also draws attention to issues that resonate with contemporary audiences: displacement, social inequality, and the corrosive effects of unchecked ambition. Claudius’s eviction of Fortinbras’s community from prime real estate is a pointed commentary on the gentrification and housing crises facing many major cities today. The film’s London is a city of sharp contrasts, where wealth and power are wielded with little regard for those left behind.
For all its departures from tradition, the film remains rooted in the core themes that have made Hamlet endure for over four centuries: grief, betrayal, madness, and the search for truth in a world rife with deception. By stripping away much of the original text and placing the story in a contemporary setting, Karia and Lesslie invite viewers to see the play anew—to question not just the motives of its characters, but the very nature of reality and perception.
As the credits roll and the city lights flicker outside the theater, audiences are left with more questions than answers. Is Hamlet a victim of circumstance or the architect of his own downfall? Is Claudius truly guilty, or merely another casualty of suspicion and ambition? And what does it mean, in the end, to be or not to be?
This new adaptation of Hamlet doesn’t offer easy answers, but it does something arguably more important: it makes Shakespeare’s tragedy feel urgent, unsettling, and alive. In a world where the line between reality and illusion grows ever thinner, perhaps that’s exactly what we need.