Eddie Izzard's comedy is a victim of its own success, and such a natural comedian/intellectual shouldn't be bound to deliver one type of show. Thus, entering her one-person performance of Hamlet at Chicago Shakespeare Theater and expecting some sort of Eddie-fied version of the Reduced Shakespeare Company's repertoire, with Izzard playing all the roles in an extravagant ren faire pantomime, is unfair to her as a performer.
Izzard does indeed play every role in this version of Shakespeare's tragedy, as directed by Selina Cadell, and adapted by Mark Izzard (Eddie's bro). But sheer laughs-per-minute are not the goal here, in spite of what many well-meaning audiences attempted to will into being at CST's Courtyard Theater (clearly the audience was a mix of both Shakespeare aficionados and Izzard heads, not that there isn't already a noted crossover).
Despite added chuckles not being the endgame, spending time in the undiluted pleasure of Izzard's theatrical company is, for the believer, a self-contained satisfaction. "But what is her Hamlet saying about Hamlet as Hamlet??' Such pontification is as necessary as it is here inapplicable, though a bit more on Hamlet as relevance-machine later. Her portrayal of the tragedy of the Prince of Denmark, sent on a quest of revenge after learning his father the king was murdered by his uncle (the new king), does in fact include some good laughs: the bit of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern as hand puppets may not be deep but is hard to begrudge; the way Izzard pauses as Polonius attempting to distill his information immediately before "your noble son is mad" is flat-out hilarious, and the way Eddie delivers Mark's paraphrase of "these tedious old fools" and turns it into "what a git" becomes both funny and telling. Presumably, it would be easy for Eddie to provide a running commentary as herself as the events of Hamlet unfold (as she does, delightfully, as the narrator of her autobiography's audio version). The "what a git" jab is really the only time she goes for what (among Eddie fans) might be considered a "cheap laugh" (by her heightened standards), and in general she should be applauded for not leaning into her own stage persona as a laugh factory unto itself. Her droll, eloquent lyricism mixed with mental veracity (sometimes at the expense of articulation) can generate a guffaw from her fans even divorced from any context, and the fact that she doesn't pull faces all the way through (i.e. "but he's dead now") proves the severity of her endeavor.
That being said, Eddie Izzard has a face built for sightlines, and her unique human mask is an indelible pleasure of seeing her perform. Occasionally her pathos yields notable dividends, such as in her careful, quiet setting-up of the first scene, with the tense guards on the battlements, awaiting the ghost of the former king. The overall show is best in quiet and stillness. Hamlet's soliloquies, his "quintessence of dust" speech, and Ophelia's mad singing are when Izzard shines brightest as an actor, bringing real mental rigor and emotional earnestness to Shakespeare's language.
Shakespeare's text (as adapted by brother Mark) comes through clearest in the times when we get to spend the most extended periods with Eddie as one character, such as those highlighted above. Scenes with more jumping back-and-forth between persons aren't able to sustain the same level of interest, and the more vitriolic sections, like Hamlet confronting Ophelia in the "nunnery scene," or killing Polonius and screaming at Gertrude in the "closet scene," are the production at its weakest. "Tearing a passion to tatters," while derided by Hamlet in his famous speech to the players, is actually something he does frequently in life, and you wish Eddie found more occasion for tears in her eyes and distraction in her aspect.
Despite the single performer, the text is no more adapted/cut/re-written than any other contemporary production of Hamlet, whatever the cast size or running time (this one's just under 2.5 hours with a break). Eddie, presumably with the aid of Cadell, makes helpful use of Shakespeare's verbs as operatives, and the changing of "since he went into France I have been in continual practice" to "since my father's death I have been in continual practice" (both events actually being at the same time) struck me as revelatory.
You can probably tell I'm pre-inclined to enjoy an evening with Eddie and the Bard, but this would not be a good starter-Hamlet for the uninitiated. The act of Izzard moving back-and-forth between spots to denote different characters is as familiar from her stand-up as it is a necessary evil in a show like this as it is unlikely to convey plot nuance to someone new to the antics of the melancholy Dane. I had a good time watching the comedian -- beloved for such phrases as "cake or death" and "you're Mr. Stephens" and "don't call me Jeezy Creezy" -- speak (many of) the words of Shakespeare's greatest achievement.
This now leads me into the waters of Hamlet pontification. Some may quibble that Cadell and Izzard don't have much of an overarching "take" on Hamlet. This production makes no attempt to connect the story to mental illness, totalitarian surveillance, youthful insurrection, or any such topic that could be trendily discussed via a YouTube Q&A. This lack of perspective is an inherent strength; a feature, not a flaw. While the play's status in the canon is secure, it is a drama that by size and scope resists reduction and streamlining more strenuously even than other comparably great tragedies. We all believe Hamlet to be superlative, but none of us quite know why. The poetry, the psychological insight, the revenge tragedy, all elements that can be named present obvious virtues. But does anyone really know how to handle the interpersonal trauma that comes from Hamlet's sexism, or the lack of agency of Ophelia, or the play's militantly confounding timeline, in a way that truly fits that square peg into the round hole of everyone emerging satisfied? Perhaps every era's shibboleths make certain elements of Shakespeareana untouchable: the Victorians couldn't stand Rosalind claiming she was as native to the Forest of Arden "as the cony you see dwell where she is kindled," and cut the ribaldry with extreme prejudice, though the line today would hardly bat an eye. But biases of the times are one thing, and the grandeur of Hamlet another. Something within Hamlet resists narrative problem-solving, but encourages everyone who tackles the role to do so because, for some tough to explain reason, we all feel the story of Hamlet is our fucking story. Maybe experiencing the growing pains of such a mind as Hamlet should be enough. With Eddie Izzard, while recognizing the limitations of the format, I had a good time, and somehow Hamlet remained Hamlet.
The act of performing all the roles in the play may be more a technical virtue than an artistic one, but to me there is nothing wrong with, considering the militancy of Eddie's approach, relishing her creative feat (as Cassio said of Iago) "more in the soldier than in the scholar."