His whole function suiting With forms to his conceit

Olivier slips into his antic disposition

I've long stood in the "Hamlet Ain't Cray-Cray" camp. Sure, he's an emo hipster at the start of the play, genuinely depressed about his father's death and his mother's o'er hasty, incestuous marriage. But when he meets the Ghost--the moment on which Hamlet's entire psyche hinges--he is not made mad with fear or anger or vengeful thoughts. Yes, he's filled with all these things, but it doesn't drive him mad.

Some people argue that the Ghost scene is enough evidence that Hamlet's already off his nut, but Horatio and Marcellus have confessed to have seen the Ghost as well, and they seem otherwise mentally stable in every way. The Ghost only really speaks to Hamlet, if you don't count the "swear" here and there when Horatio and Marcellus return to the stage to enact their oath to the Prince. Though overwhelmed with this vision and the information imparted about "murder most foul," Hamlet believes the Ghost in the moment, but even then begins to hatch a plan to confirm the Ghost's story. He commands his friends that they not give away the game of his feigned outward appearance and action--his "antic disposition"--no matter how "strange or odd soe'er I bear myself."

Next, Hamlet wordlessly freaks out Ophelia, successfully making Polonius believe he has gone mad with love. Claudius and Gertrude call up Hamlet's old flunkies to find him out, and then Polonius suggests how they might confirm his theory that Hamlet is lovesick for his daughter. When the players arrive, Hamlet is outwardly, eccentrically pleased with himself. No one is the wiser about what's truly sparking inside Hamlet's brain.

Now here's what I learned from memorizing the "O, what a rogue" soliloquy, and why it confirms my belief that Hamlet is not totes bananas. It tellingly begins with "Now I am alone." It's important enough that he announces it: "Now I am alone." He's been so busy putting on his "madness" mask for everyone that he's exhausted and feels he must speak with himself. His duplicity of character begins to appear in this speech, as he mentally breaks his own pate across for not having the courage to express his truest feelings to the world. He's jealous of the players for their masks, and how they can conjure up tears for a conceit, when he cannot weep for a truth. During this diatribe, it is clear that Hamlet is very hard on himself, for it was just the night before that he saw the Ghost, but he soon reveals his cunning plan to the audience. "The play's the thing," he states, "wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King."

At the end of this soliloquy, Hamlet is resolved to "observe [the King's] looks" and "tent him to the quick." He notes that the Ghost may be lying, that he "may be a dev'l, and the dev'l hath power T'assume a pleasing shape." Hamlet's ready for action. He's rationally, scientifically devising a way to test the Ghost's claims before he will allow himself to carry out a rash act of vengeance. This is Spock-like behavior. It may have more the Shantner-esque flourish, but it's Vulcan logic all the way.

But still, many believe that only half a scene later, he's preparing himself for suicide. WHY? Because he comes back onto the stage and recites "To be or not to be."

Respectfully, WTF.

If one forgets that the last soliloquy ever happened, only half a scene before, then one could interpret "To be or not to be" as a pure contemplation on suicide and its consequences. Many people believe this soliloquy is a true representation of Hamlet's character, and that when he sees Ophelia, he is pushed over the edge and gives into his madness.

I call bullshit on this.

Hamlet is a bit paranoid at this point--as his "Now I am alone" line can attest--but not without reason. He is well aware that R & G are spying on him. He suspects the King and Queen suspect he is mad. He knows Ophelia has been scared out of her knickers and that that's why Polonius has been pretending to be Sherlock Holmes.

In Act III, Sc. I, just before Hamlet arrives to enact his famous speech, Claudius says he has "closely sent for Hamlet hither," telling us that Hamlet has been summoned. Hamlet must suspect that someone will be waiting for him. He was never just walking around the castle idly voicing his thoughts. When he enters, he has this fabulous speech prepared, just in case someone is listening. And someone is listening--Claudius and Polonius are there, "seeing unseen" so they may judge what is bothering Hamlet.

Hamlet's no dumbass. He would never discuss his deepest thoughts out loud unless he were sure he were alone. "To be" fits his antic disposition, and could very easily throw off his pursuers. They would never guess from those existential thoughts that he suspects the King has been murdered and that he wishes to indict Claudius.

When Ophelia steps out, Hamlet is momentarily buoyed by her presence, and, for a tiny moment, almost allows her to distract him. But he keeps stepping forward on his balance beam of lies, keeping up his pretense that he is mad over love for Ophelia. "Ha, ha! Are you honest?" he asks, already suspecting her complicity in a trap. "Where's your father?" he asks, giving her one more chance to reveal her true intentions to him. He wants her to be on his side, but as soon as she says "At home, my lord," he knows her alliance is with Polonius, and he is truly heartbroken at that point. He goes a bit mad--for real-- and it feeds into the original lie of his madness, at least as far as Polonius is concerned. Hamlet walks away from this scene more upset than before, and Claudius actually begins to believe that this is not true madness.

But Hamlet is still one step ahead of everyone. If Hamlet were mad, he never would have been able to keep his secret of the Ghost's tale. If the Ghost were lying, Claudius wouldn't have confessed to any murderous actions and guilt for killing his own brother. If Hamlet were suicidal, he would just mope around, unable to rouse himself into the man of action he truly is. And if anyone wants to argue otherwise on that point, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me.

Virtue? A fig!

Only Sir Olivier has the stones (and the talent) to play Othello in blackface. Do not try this at home, kids.

Every deceitful villain in literature, film, and pop culture has Iago's DNA in their blood. From Professor Moriarty to Loki, Dennis Nedry to Gollum, anyone who presents themselves as trustworthy while they smile and smile and work to betray our heroes has descended from that granddaddy of evil genius who could drive a man to murder with nought but a wave of a handkerchief. 

With 1097 lines,* Iago is third only to Richard III (1152) and Hamlet (1422) in pure lung power (per play... Hal/Henry V, whose breath sweeps through three plays, has over 1800 lines, and Falstaff has over 1600 in his three appearances). What does he accomplish with all this vocal ability, other than a whole lot of soap operatic trouble?

As with all Shakespearean villains, he speaks hard truths that cannot be cast aside with all his lies. The speech I chose strikes me as one of those particularly obvious observations of human nature. He is honest after all, since Iago is well aware that he is a perfect example of one who has chosen to sow his own seeds of villainy. He is the quintessential example of how WRONG Polonius** is when he utters   

"To thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man." Iago is true to himself, and yet is false to everyone. 

After all his silver-tongued philosophizing, one line haunts me the most. It's Iago's final line in the play, directed at Othello after Iago's one-man complot has been exposed: 

"Demand me nothing; what you know, you know:

From this time forth I never will speak word."

Lodovico's immediate response is "What, not to pray?" and Gratiano grumbles "Torments will ope your lips." But Othello stares at Iago and says "Well, thou dost best."

Iago's felt slighted the entire time, ever since Othello made Cassio his lieutenant, and perhaps even before that, as this line suggests. They appear to have a secret between them, and despite Iago's attempt to ruin Othello's good name, when Iago's honesty is finally stained, the bastard decides to zip his lip. What  have they seen and done together in their battles and voyages? What makes Iago loathe and love Othello so much? Why do I love Iago more than Polonius? Because in the end, Iago is honest.

Othello, Act I, Sc. III

Iago: Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus

or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which
our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant
nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up
thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or
distract it with many, either to have it sterile
with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the
power and corrigible authority of this lies in our
wills. If the balance of our lives had not one
scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the
blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us
to most preposterous conclusions: but we have
reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal
stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that
you call love to be a sect or scion.

*The actual numbers of lines depend on the version/edition you read, but you get the idea.
**I fucking HATE this quote because everyone uses it out of context and they never seem to realize that everyone in Shakespeare's time understood it to be an empty, banal platitude worthy of so much eye-rolling.