Take the bones of Hamlet, throw away some of them, and reassemble the rest into a reasonably coherent shape, dress them up in an imaginary pan-Nordic culture, and set it in a place you’ll call Iceland, add all the blood you have on hand + any you can borrow from elsewhere, and put the climactic battle on Mustafar.
Honestly, I wasn’t paying a lot of attention, since it was scene after scene of “be a man! chop people! chase them down and chop them some more!” When the main character finally found his mom after years of chopping people, she was all “oh, Hamlet, your dad was a doofus, but your uncle… ooohhhh… he was kind and a hottie” and I was all… “oh.”