Booze and Bard Collide: Sh!t-faced Shakespeare's Hamlet Is Chaos in the Best Way
Attending Hamlet as interpreted by Sh!t‑Faced Shakespeare® is like brain surgery in a pub: bizarre, unpredictable, sometimes messy, often hilarious—and undeniably impossible to look away from. Onstage, the backbone of Shakespeare’s tragedy is deliberately compromised: each night, one cast member consuming alcohol until fully intoxicated, turning the performance into an improvisational tightrope walk between chaos and coherence.
Despite the premise sounding like a gimmick, the show retains a surprising sense of structure. The adaptation is tightly edited—running under 70 or 80 minutes—and guided by sharp writing and nimble performers who keep the story intelligible even when Hamlet himself is slurring. The sober cast members act as anchors: witty, responsive, and resourceful. They absorb their colleague’s unpredictable behavior and channel it into controlled theatre, often riffing off each other and improvising around forgotten lines or spontaneous outbursts.
Yet, not every moment hits. There are scenes where the drunken antics feel overly scripted, undercutting the spontaneity you'd expect, and occasionally the compère’s intervention with bugles or gongs interrupts the flow rather than enhances it. The show’s comedic energy can feel thin, especially if the audience doesn't engage or the tipsy actor manages to stay too coherent. When done well, though, the interplay of Shakespearean text and drunken derailment becomes absurdly compelling.
At its best, this Hamlet is an exercise in controlled pandemonium. Watching an inebriated prince attempt the “To be or not to be” soliloquy—racing through the words at breakneck speed—is as surreal as it is comedic. The sober actors around him match that energy, coaxing coherence from chaos while still allowing comedic carnage to reign. Audience participation—cheering for more drinks or sounding cues with instruments—blurs the barrier between performers and viewers, making each night’s performance unique.
There’s a strange magic in seeing Shakespeare’s tragedy refracted through this lens. It strips the solemnity away and asks: can the work survive, even thrive, when one actor is literally tanked? For the most part, the answer is yes—thanks to the professionalism and sharp improvisation of the ensemble. It’s a show that leans into absurdity without letting it topple into incoherence—though the emotional weight of the original material is mostly sacrificed in favor of entertainment.
If you're looking for a refined evening at the theatre, this isn’t it. But if you’re curious about what happens when classical text meets live improv and liquid courage, Sh!t‑Faced Shakespeare®: Hamlet invites you to watch the wreck—or the rescue. It’s raucous, irreverent, unpredictable theatre that asks its audience not for solemn reflection, but for belly laughs—and maybe a raised glass.
