the film develops an intriguing narrative, showcasing the trials and tribulations of Crane and Oosterveen as they navigate through this outlandish endeavor.

### What is *Grand Theft Hamlet* about?

Starting as a conventional “Let’s Play,” a format in which audiences view others navigating video games, the film captures two casual gamers idly spending time by partaking in virtual lawlessness and outsmarting the authorities in *Grand Theft Auto*. While this premise may not initially seem like a viable foundation for a feature film, *Grand Theft Hamlet* rapidly dispels that notion.

At its essence, the idea is charmingly ridiculous, echoing the spirit of *Red vs. Blue*, the enduring web series crafted within the *Halo* gaming environment. Yet, *Grand Theft Hamlet* exceeds its gaming origins, reaching audiences that extend beyond the hardcore gaming community. The film invites non-gamers into the frenetic and hyper-violent domain of *Grand Theft Auto* through the perspective of two jobless English theater actors, Sam Crane and Mark Oosterveen. These “fellows of infinite jest” stumble upon a digital amphitheater — the “Vinewood Bowl,” inspired by Los Angeles’ Hollywood Bowl — and are struck with inspiration: Why not perform *Hamlet* in this virtual landscape?

What starts as a trivial YouTube-like endeavor swiftly transforms into something significantly more captivating. The narrative follows Crane and Oosterveen as they conduct auditions and rehearsals in *Grand Theft Auto Online*, the MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game) aspect of *Grand Theft Auto V*. Each frame is shot within the game, with fluid camera angles that soar unrestrained by physical limits. Co-directed by Crane alongside his partner, filmmaker Pinny Grylls, the film intertwines the roles of observer and participant as Grylls enters the game as a character, ultimately becoming a pivotal element of the storyline.

The duo’s pursuit of collaborators — ranging from eager actors to curious spectators who may not fully understand the concept yet are eager to join — is both comical and heartwarming. Nevertheless, the unpredictable nature of *Grand Theft Auto* brings forth distinct challenges. In this chaotic digital realm, unpredictable players often interrupt rehearsals, occasionally brandishing firearms or launching melee attacks. Each time Crane and Oosterveen’s avatars face demise, they respawn in less-than-convenient locations, necessitating a trek back to their makeshift stage. These interruptions, though vexing to the actors, inject an additional layer of comedic absurdity into the mix.

Picture *Theater Camp* crashing into *Punisher: War Zone*, and you will grasp the film’s wonderfully bizarre yet endearing rhythm. It merges genuine creativity with outrageous chaos, presenting logistical challenges that are both entertaining and ludicrous.

### A lockdown project like no other

Primarily filmed during London’s third significant COVID-19 lockdown in early 2021, *Grand Theft Hamlet* documents the growth of its core concept from a boredom-driven experiment into an expansive passion project. Across several months, the actors contend with escalating difficulties, both within the game and the real world. What strategies can be employed to foster a tranquil, collaborative experience in a space tailored for mayhem? And how can the varying schedules and commitments of a cast scattered worldwide be harmonized?

Anyone with even a slight acquaintance with amateur theater will recognize the dilemmas Crane and Oosterveen encounter: balancing auditions, managing personalities, and orchestrating rehearsals. Yet, in this instance, the typical challenges are intensified by the unpredictability of the game’s environment. Mischievous players disrupt rehearsals, either eliminating the actors or sabotaging them during a critical soliloquy. These interruptions, while exasperating, also bring a dose of cabin fever-induced lunacy to the project.

As the venture becomes more ambitious, the actors stage performances in increasingly hazardous locations within the game, ranging from the top of a floating blimp to other precarious venues. These imaginative risks frequently result in side-splitting self-sabotage, with avatars facing untimely (and hilariously absurd) ends mid-performance. Meanwhile,