For another, he is constantly bedeviled by images - haunted views of himself trapped in the memory of his laptop, a pornographic representation of his treacherous mother (Diane Venora) in the scabrous "video/play" with which he catches the conscience of the king, the vision of his murdered father's ghost (Sam Shepard) floating out of a Pepsi machine. For one thing, this startlingly youthful Hamlet, portrayed with vigor and passion by the twenty-something matinee idol Ethan Hawke, slouches through the glass and concrete canyons of present-day Manhattan wearing yellow-tinted shades and a floppy knit cap, driven into a bleak funk by the ruthless powermongers grappling for control of shadowy Denmark Corporation. But in a spellbinding new take on Shakespeare's great tragedy by independent filmmaker Michael Almereyda, the melancholy prince also takes on the trappings and attitudes of postmodern man.
Literary critics often call Hamlet "the first modern man" because he's preoccupied with the nature of self and the consequences of action.
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