EndOrder of Lenin
LENFILM Studio
HAMLET
Based on the tragedy by
SHAKESPEARE
Screenplay and Direction by
Grigory KOZINTSEV
Director
I. SHAPIRO
Director of Photography
I. GRITSUS
Production Designers: Ye. YENEY
G. KROPACHEV, S. VIRSALADZE
Music by
D. SHOSTAKOVICH
Cast:
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark -
I. SMOKTUNOVSKY
King... M. NAZVANOV
Queen... E. RADZIN
Polonius... Yu. TOLUBEYEV
Ophelia... A. VERTINSKAYA
Horatio... V. ERENBERG
Laertes... S. OLEKSENKO
Guildenstern... V. MEDVEDEV
Rosencrantz... I. DMITRIYEV
Fortinbras, Prince of Norway -
A. KREVALD
Grave-digger... V. KOLPAKOV
First Player... A. CHEKAYEVSKY
Second Player... R. AREN
Third Player... Yu. BERKUN
Priest... A. LAUTER
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's
death
The memory be green,
Yet so far has discretion fought with
nature,
That we with wisest sorrow think
of him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister,
now our queen,
Have we, as it were with a defeated
joy,
In equal scale weighing delight and
dole,
Taken to wife.
With a defeated joy... In equal scale
weighing delight and dole...
Nor have we herein barred
Your better wisdoms,
...which have freely gone
With this affair along.
For all, our thanks.
Now follows. Young Fortinbras,
Thinking by our late dear brother's
death
Our state to be disjoint
and out of frame,
Colleagued with the dream of his
advantage,
He has not failed to pester us with
message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father.
We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of Fortinbras,
Who, impotent and bed-ridden, scarcely
Hears of this his nephew's purpose,
To suppress his further gait herein.
And now, Laertes, what's the news
with you?
You told us of some suit.
What is it, Laertes?
The head is not more native to
the heart,
The hand more instrumental to
the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to
thy father.
What wouldst thou have?
Dread my lord, your leave and
Favour to return to France,
From whence though willingly I came
To show my duty in your coronation.
Yet now, that duty done, my thoughts
And wishes bend again toward France,
And bow them to your gracious
leave and pardon.
Take thy fair hour, Laertes.
But now, my cousin Hamlet,
and my son.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted
colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend
on Denmark.
Do not forever with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
You know it is common... all that live
must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Ay, madam, it is common.
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Seems, madam, nay; it is.
I know not 'seems'.
We pray you, throw to earth this woe.
For let the world take note, you're
The most immediate to our throne.
For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire.
Let not thy mother lose her prayers:
Stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
I shall in all my best obey you,
madam.
Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.
This gentle and unforced accord of
Hamlet sits smiling to my heart,
In grace whereof, no jocund health
That Denmark drinks today,
But the great cannon to the clouds
shall tell;
And the king's rouse the heaven shall
bruit again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder.
Long live the king!
Come away.
How weary, stale, flat, and
unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses
of this world!
Fie on it!
O, fie!
'Tis an unweeded garden,
that grows to seed.
That it should come to this!
But two months dead!
Nay, not so much, not two.
And yet, within a month...
Let me not think on it.
Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! Or ever those shoes
were old
With which she followed my father's
body, Like Niobe, all tears.
Why she, even she...
It is not nor it cannot come to good.
But break, my heart, for I must hold
my tongue!
Hail to your lordship!
Horatio!
Your poor servant ever.
Sir, my good friend!
I'll change that name with you.
And what make you
from