"... And this clown is a mask that unmasks (looking death in the face, laying bare power), in a world where everyone is a clown, severe, sad and the same (the director had already used Pierrot-esque figures, for example, effectively in The Glass Menagerie a few years ago, and here the white veers towards grey). And even Hamlet is a white clown, first and foremost, albeit furrowed by a black V of truth and revenge, and wearing mourning shoes, forced into a sepulchrally whitened dimension, reminiscent of the director's recent Williamsian The Cat (here the white backdrop, the curtain impermeable to pain/colour, the foundation that pales and hides the faces, with the exception of Claudius' wounded body, of a joker-like red, a cruel wound that will gradually invade the scene with its bloody reverberation) ... costumes in shades of grey (another allusion to rats?) that camouflage the bodies and hearts (Aurora Damanti works between Fellini and 17th-century clowning: the Prince of Denmark's wig hints at Carmelo Bene, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are two transvestites/whores with foam prosthetics, but all the characters appear deformed by clothes and padding, only to gradually shed them like armor)....".

(Matteo Columbo, https://www.teatroecritica.net/2025/10/il-clown-bianco-lamleto-smascherato-di-leonardo-lidi/)

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"... Here he entertains and has entertained himself by muting the drama and – since, he says, the only theatre he knows is “the one that is not content to repeat the past like a relic”: so that even the beginning of the most famous monologue in the world will be lengthened and distorted – here he throws himself into the notes of entertainment, even going down the steps of the most vulgar vaudeville (with a sonorous series of little farts, as the last of the strolling players might have done in the past, to get yet another laugh), while not leaving out a veil of sadness, starting with a Hamlet with a wig and the attitude of a sad Pierrot, with his fake and disproportionate belly and a voice somewhere between a singsong and the pain he carries with him, while not leaving out the end of a reign and a performance, where the immaculate scene invented by Nicolas Bovey (Aurora Diamanti's costumes are also white, the only one in red is the Claudio, by the always excellent Nicola Pannelli), that staircase and that descending curtain, the makeup on the actors' faces at first shiny and whitish, everything has come undone. Hamlet says, "I'll play the fool," while someone replies, "There's a method to this madness".

(Elio Rabbione, https://iltorinese.it/2025/10/14/amleto-in-parrucca-una-tragedia-piena-di-divertimento/)