Blog Post 2: King Claudius Must Die?

Don't get mad. Get even.
Doesn't that single line give you shivers? I always appreciate a good chick flick, but "John Tucker Must Die" takes the cake! The titular character is the epitome of the ideal high school specimen: good-looking, athletically talented, and well-liked by all. Boys want to be him. Girls want to be with him. A classic story, thus far. John was, however, dating three girls in the same high school, and as soon as the three found out they were being three-timed, they devised a plan to break John Tucker's heart the same way he broke theirs. Oh my, here come the shivers again!
Though I would've liked to have used this quality film as a chance to escape the worries gnawing at the back of my mind, unfortunately, I couldn't help but see some resemblances between the three girlfriends plotting for revenge and my own dear Hamlet. Of course, I'm sure my son would never conceive such a horrible notion as that, but it was hard to miss the parallels in behavior: both the girls and my son lapsed into a state of depression that they refused to discuss with anyone else. If you remember, I even said to him, "Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark" (1.2.69) When Hamlet was alone after the wedding was over, I heard him talking to himself, just as the girls in the movie planned amongst themselves the downfall of John Tucker. Hamlet muttered to himself "My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules" (1.2.154) Both the girls and my son seemed to hide their true intentions from the people around them; the girls, from John Tucker's brother, and Hamlet, from me and his lover, Ophelia. Again, I caught Hamlet speaking to himself in an empty room saying "But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue" (1.2.161). Who must he hold his tongue from? And why?
 I fear that there is something dreadfully wrong with Hamlet, some great weight on his shoulders that has not yet been relieved, and I can't help the feeling that this burden will continue to build and build until my dear son can take it no more, and he crumbles under the pressure. He, speaking again, I might add, to himself, declared "What an ass am I!" (2.2.573) If there is a reason in particular for the way he views himself, with such hatred and shame, just as the girls were disappointed in themselves for being duped by John Tucker, then I feel I must find the reason for it.
Why is he putting on a front for the people around him, acting one way in public and another way in private just as the girls did when, to the outside world, they pretended they were still infatuated by John Tucker when, in reality, they couldn't be anything further? Hamlet said he would act out with an "antic disposition" (1.5.192), but for what reason would he do such a thing? Why would he throw a facade out to the scrutinizing eye of Denmark if he had nothing to hide?
Of course, I must be overreacting. Silly me, thinking so hard of possibilities and potentialities with no base in realism. I think I'll go back to my rom-coms, for a few more hours. Clearly I could use a break!