With its 4,042 lines, Shakespeare’s heart-wrenching tragedy, “Hamlet,” is virtually Wagnerian in both length and the operatic nature of its denouement. As eloquent as the Bard’s writing may be, the play simply will not work in its original form for an evening in Port Townsend’s Chetzemoka Park, where the battle of the elements, including roaring surf and shorter-summer days gone too soon place an extra chill on an already chilling story.

Hence, director Marc Weinblatt’s adaptation of “Hamlet” for Key City Public Theatre’s 14th annual Shakespeare in the Park, which continues 6 p.m. Fridays – Sundays through Aug. 26, has chopped the play in half, excised some minor characters, and telescoped the action. To render Shakespeare’s eternally eloquent albeit undeniably antiquated English more accessible to audiences familiar with Game of Thrones and other Norse supplants to America’s once-prevailing Disney-based mythology, he has also moved the story back in time, to Elsinore, Denmark in 920 AD, when Vikings ruled. Richard Wagner would have approved.

For the most part, Weinblatt’s bleeding chunks adaptation works. Some of the cuts are rather “huh, how did we get from here to there?” clunky, and the hokey recreation of the face of the ghost of the slain King (Hamlet’s father), from pseudo Norse building blocks of stone, elicited quite a few titters on opening night. Regardless, Weinblatt’s virtual avalanche of famous dialogue upon famous dialogue leaves the mouth agape at Shakespeare’s linguistic brilliance and enduring ability to convey truth through drama.

The acting is also the finest I’ve seen in my three or four years of KCPT’s Shakespeare in the Park. “Brilliance” is not a descriptor to be dispensed lightly, but in the case of Dillon Porter’s remarkable portrayal of Hamlet, only “brilliant” will do. From his first appearance, Porter’s intensity stops the mind’s endless chatter and plummets you into the middle of Hamlet’s searing pain. His identification with his character is so complete that even the most familiar of lines, e.g. “To be or not to be, that is the question …,” strike us as not only fresh, but from the mind, heart, and gut rather than from rote.

On opening night, Porter’s Hamlet got so animated that the thrust of his sword splintered a long horizontal wooden beam atop Denise Winter’s quite effective though somewhat fragile set. Without missing a beat, Porter reached up, grabbed the hanging plank, tore it from the backdrop, hurled it into the bushes, and continued as if even more gripped by rage than before. It was an act of brilliance – of being so present in the moment – that it almost seemed part of the script. Even the great improviser Ella Fitzgerald, who famously sang “And now Ella, Ella, and her fellas / We’re making a wreck, what a wreck of Mack the Knife” as she blanked on most of the lyrics during her 1960 concert in Berlin, would have been in awe.

In commitment, Rosaletta Curry’s Ophelia (Hamlet’s girlfriend and Polonius’s daughter) was right behind Porter’s. Her physical beauty and fine singing, of her own melody to lyrics from Shakespeare’s time, contributed to a deeply moving portrayal. Only once, early on his distraught period, did her acting get ahead of her emotions. Brendan Chambers’ heartfelt Horatio (Hamlet’s ever-loyal friend) and David Elwyn’s Laertes (Polonius’s sorely misdirected son) were equally committed and convincing, with Elwyn’s boiling rage the perfect counterpart to Hamlet’s.

Yet another standout was Christa Holbrook’s Marcella (Ophelia’s friend and Shieldmaiden). Looking very different than in her triumphant starring role in KCPT’s fabulous “Daddy Long Legs,” her strong singing, in authentic Scandinavian cattle herding style, of Laurence Cole and Aimee Ringle’s settings of authentic Old Norse poetry, made much of a minor role that was sex-changed, in classic Port Townsend fashion, from Shakespeare’s Marcellus. Mark Valentine was thunderously effective as the voice of the hardly invisible Ghost of Hamlet’s father.

Opinions will differ on Brace Evans’ Claudius (successor King of Denmark, Hamlet’s uncle), Crystal Eisle’s ever graceful Gertrude (Queen of Denmark, Hamlet’s mother), and Lawrason Driscoll’s Polonius (Advisor to the King). A few line slips from the two men, and a generalized vagueness of character on the part of all three, suggested that they had not yet fully inhabited their roles. Is this Polonius a bit dumb, and is Gertrude complicit or simply needy and clueless? – those are questions for which Weinblatt may have an answer. Nonetheless, there was some powerful acting from this trio of leads, not the least from Evans during his struck-by-guilt confession.

While there were no adorably awkward 12-year-olds in the production, there were a few neither here nor there portrayals, and a bizarrely inconsistent accent from one of the Gravediggers. Libby Urner Wennstrom’s costumes were quite effective – ditto for Winter’s set – and stage manager Bry Kifolo soon adjusted an over-amped rear loudspeaker that disconcertingly placed actors’ voices behind a good part of the audience.

But let’s not end with separation. Instead, let’s cheer a truly moving evening of theater. If there is justice in the world, those fortunate enough to see Dillon Porter’s Hamlet will have the opportunity, well before Shakespeare is banned as fake news, to cheer him on Broadway, in Ashland, or wherever inspiration and life lead. To him and all, a hearty bravo.

Jason Victor Serinus has written for Seattle Times, Stereophile, Opera News, Opera Now, Classical Voice North America, San Francisco Classical Voice, Gay City News, and more. As a professional whistler, he was “the Voice of Woodstock” in an Emmy-nominated Peanuts cartoon.