Bruce Ramsay in Hamlet (Megan Derry/Breaking Glass Pictures)

Hamlet, Shakespeare’s longest play, runs more than four hours when left uncut. One would therefore expect that in a 90-minute adaptation there wouldn’t be a minute to spare. However, Bruce Ramsay, the star and director, has managed to find plenty of time to waste.

To begin with, there is an eight-minute credit sequence. No one speaks. Instead we see simplistic expository sequences: Hamlet cutting Claudius out of a family picture, for instance. When the famous text finally gets its turn, Ramsay chooses to defuse it with plenty of brooding close-ups, establishing shots, and montages. No real excitement ever builds.

The actors still manage to turn in competent work. On the whole, they make the intricate language easy to understand and create compelling characters. In particular, Gillian Barber as Gertrude finds some fine quiet moments. The biggest problem is with Ramsay himself. His Hamlet is a cipher. Nothing stands out about him, so he inspires little identification. Ramsay captures the melancholy but misses the vitality that makes the character so infectious. His whispery prince seems half-dead from the start.

Compounding this, there are problems with the adaptation. Critical plot points, including Hamlet’s decision to put on an “antic disposition,” are ignored. Moreover, in the play Hamlet is constantly examining and explaining himself, spurring himself on. His soliloquies serve a dramatic purpose: they give the audience something to hold on to, an arc through the play. Cut them, as Ramsay largely has, and the play is reduced to soap opera.

Also distracting is the ultra low-budget look. Ramsay and company do a passable job of evoking a sense of film noir, but they do not find any ingenuity to balance the frugality. What original choices are made are uninspired and almost silly. In a moment more reminiscent of a Neil Simon script, a policeman shows up, only to be shooed away: “False alarm!” says Claudius. The extremely brisk denouement trades the play’s fencing foils for a gun, ensuring that the film ends with a literal bang in the midst of its figurative whimpers.

As a former high school drama teacher, I’ve participated in my fair share of heavily edited Shakespearean productions. One fellow teacher once told me she had boiled down the text so much she felt she was doing Midsummer: The Hits!  To be sure, there is no reason a tight adaptation can’t still pack a punch. Unfortunately, this one feels more like a compilation of misses.