Johnny Simmons

Coming off the one-two punch of Alex Fisher and Isabel de Merteuil, I suppose the idea of Close as Gertrude seems liked some outlandish casting from Zeffreli she still emerges as the finest characterisation of the Queen I’ve seen on film. It’s probably her theatrical roots coming to the surface. Gertrude, I suppose, emerges as one of the more ambiguous mothers from Shakespeare. Close manages to retain that ambiguity without making the character too sinister. At her best she manages to sustain that chemistry with Gibson while creating the same with Bates – without making Gertrude seem insincere.

Olivia looks even younger than Leonardo, which makes her seem to even more of a wise choice for Juliet. As young as the characters are in the play, we often think of them as older and Olivia manages to juxtapose the generally adult desires of Juliet with the more fanciful, youthful portion. It’s an amalgamation that works, especially in the final moments of the film where she’s astounding. As with Whiting, it’s a real shame she never did something as special again.

On the most obvious levels Helena doesn’t seem like the obvious fit for Olivia, but the entire film is sort of ironic adaptation of the entire film. It’s somewhere between Helen Schlegel and Kate Croy but not anywhere as domineering and she’s easily the best in show – even if she’s not the traditional heroine of the play. To call her comedic skills subtle would be an understatement and despite the more obvious incongruities that exist between her and the character it’s the unobtrusive comedic gifts she uses to define a character who’s not quite funny but is at the centre of comedy.

I said before, I always think of the Shrew when I hear about Elizabeth Taylor. True, it’s not her best performance but it’s such a fine example of her at her most tenacious – which is what I remember her most for, as an actor and a person. She’s beautiful and terrible and performs with an astounding comedic timing – it’s as if the role was written with her in mind.

I’ve have an unbridled intellectual love affair with Shakespeare since I was ten. Even saying it I can tell how strange it sounds, but it began with the condensed Lamb’s “Tales From Shakespeare” and then into the actual plays by the time I hit the teens. It’s probably his prolific nature which appeals to me most, though I suppose his brilliance plays a part. How am I celebrating his birthday this weekend? By a three-part post celebrating his performances inspsired by his brilliance.

As an aside: I wish that Laurence Fishburne could get a another role worthy of his goodness. He earned his lone Oscar nomination for What’s Love Got to Do With It, but I’m even fonder of his Othello. I often think of the play as Shakespeare’s flawed masterpiece – that pivotal third act is so difficult to establish and it’s so imperative to Othello’s transformation. Fishburne, though, pulls it off. He out performs Shakespearean stalwart Branagh, although in Branagh’s defence Iago is an impossibly difficult character to play....

              

....and then, Branagh has such a hidden talent for the comedic. I’m not even that fond of the actual play Much Ado About Nothing, but a competent play (one of the Bard’s lesser works – for me) turns into a fine film and Branagh’s Benedick is a significant part of that. He has just the right of amount of self-confidence to be willing to perform the most ridiculous of characterisations making it all work excellently.

              

I can’t speak for others, but I always remember Burton as an actor notorious for having fun in his roles. It always shows, for me, even when he’s tackling more serious fare like Becket or The Robe that tinge of irreverence is always noticeable and in The Taming of the Shrew it’s put to brilliant use. Depending on which perspective you take this is already one of Shakespeare’s most satirical pieces and Burton is a perfect

                                         

I wrote ad nauseum on three film versions of Hamlet and I grudgingly gave Olivier top honours. Well, perhaps not grudgingly. He’s not really right for the part and yet he’s excellent in it. His Hamlet finds the sensuality in a character that seems almost facile in his constant indecision. It’s not really Shakespeare’s Hamlet, much too wise and with too much savoir faire, but it’s so difficult to bet against Olivier.

        

I shall always placate myself with the fact that Whiting (along with Hussey) picked up the Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer. It’s scant consolation, but I’m superstitious enough to believe that an Oscar nomination might have seen him having a more fruitful career. He easily towers over any the male actors I’ve seen tackle Shakespeare, not least of all because he actually seems to be age appropriate. Still, it’s more than that – the story is remembered as an incessant part of pop culture today and Romeo is never remembered as one of the more assiduous of Shakespeare’s heroes; but Whiting’s performance is incredible any way you put it.

I vaguely suspect where the MEME is trying to go with this one. Perhaps a film centring on teenage ideals that we all should see? I don’t know – probably…but I went a bit different.

      

The other day on twitter someone mentioned Shakespeare in Love as one of the five worse Best Picture winners (well The English Patient was there too, so I didn’t really take it to heart). Everyone, I assume, reads Shakespeare at some point in their school life and what better way to be introduced to Shakespeare than through Stoppard and Madden’s fanciful account of his early life.

How many of you have ever said that Shakespeare is too stifling? (I have, and I love the man.) Yes, Shakespeare in Love is purely fictional, but it makes a good argument – Shakespeare was a real man with real feelings and probably every bit as bohemian as portrayed in the film. Sometimes it does pay to consider what the writer of a play was about and I’d wager that reading “Romeo & Juliet” becomes more interesting when we imagine Joseph and Gwynn in the throes of love…or Judi Dench being purely awesome, or Imelda Staunton being brilliant as the Nurse. Suffice to say, the film is excellence.

             

I suppose everyone will not love Shakespeare, but Shakespeare in Love seems like a good place to start. If you can believe that Shakespeare was more than a stuff stick-in-the-mud you may actually enjoy reading him in high school. Who knows?
         
As per normal, the MEME continues...

Only one?No, one's enough... I don’t like writing pans of films, which is why I’m more likely to wax on about a film I like than about a film I hate. I wrote that post on my least favourite films of the decade and that was bad enough.

               

It’s too easy to bring up a horrible movie here, instead I’ll opt for a movie that I don’t find very good (I’d give it a D, maybe even a C-) and one that I loathe for personal reasons….it stars Orson Welles. No it’s not Citizen Kane (even I still find How Green Was My Valley better, kill me I know).

Excuse the digressions. I love Shakespeare, I started reading him when I was thirteen and I was lucky enough to study “Macbeth” two years later – then I saw the Orson Welles film version. Yikes. Without a doubt it ranks as my least favourite cinematic encounter. Shakespeare is difficult to adapt to screen – even the good ones have obvious reality issues, but Macbeth, for me, lies in a league of its own. Perhaps it’s because I internalised it (what can I say, I was a neurotic student), or because it was one of the plays we put on for school but I was so indignant after seeing the film. It just struck me as offensively inadequate, and considering that I wouldn’t rank it in Shakespeare’s top ten that goes to show how little I like this movie.

I’ve come to realise what Welles was aiming for in his production, but I’ve never been able to appreciate the film. I see it and the old embers of hate burn brightly. I’ve always been more than a little overwrought. I still loathe Macbeth…

        

At the height of Shakespeare’s talent (well, so most persons would say) is his 23rd play “Hamlet”. The tragedy about a Danish prince is Shakespeare’s longest play and despite not being as readily popular as his “Romeo & Juliet” it is enthusiastically accredited as his premier work. In addition to being singled out as the pinnacle of Shakespeare’s achievement, the character of Hamlet is unofficially considered to be the greatest dramatic male role – an enviable monogram. This, no doubt, accounts for the affinity that actors, directors and producers have felt in regard to the work on stage and film.

         

Since the beginning of contemporary cinema in the early 20th century great thought has been placed on the constituents to good adaptations of literature, both drama and otherwise. Oftentimes works have been given the informal title of “unadaptable” but more and more fearless writers have worked against these labels and attempted at adapting great works for the medium of the film. Regardless of their valour however, something is lost when a great literature piece is transferred to cinema. It does not matter how exemplary the adaptation may be on its own their usually is some inadequacy when correlated with the original piece. There is no doubt that something is always lost when a literary work in transferred to the screen, and with the high esteem of “Hamlet” there may be an additional pressure placed on persons intending to adapt. This paper aims at assessing three notable adaptations of the Bard’s crucial play. The three versions in question are Laurence Olivier’s 1948 version, Franco Zeffirelli’s 1990 versions and Kenneth Branagh’s 1996 version. These three adaptations do not represent the gamut of “Hamlet”’s treatment on cinema. However, they are often regarded as the most popular – if not best – of the lot.

To look at each piece for a mere few minutes would immediately unearth the obvious dissimilarities. From its beginning we notice the mysteriousness of Olivier’s piece. There is a potent sense of confinement as the screen is covered in an eerie mist. Olivier’s Hamlet is mostly psychological and as Hamlet feels emotionally confined the film visually matches that with its simultaneous sense of captivity. Zeffirelli’s Hamlet is the stark opposite. The man is Italian, and vibrancy is the main component here as this is a Hamlet that is above all else, particularly physical. The court is lived in and muddy and the clothes are heavy and used. Continuing this visual comparison Branagh’s version probably falls in the middle. The confinement of Olivier is absent but there is not as much exuberance as Zeffirelli’s production.

On the most aesthetic level there are certain expectations that come with a Shakespearean themed film. Costuming is not as much a requirement for a good film as it is a prospective component of period pieces, of which Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” is one. Branagh’s Hamlet does not deliver on the authenticity of its costuming. His Hamlet is an unaltered adaptation of the play, but the players are draped in garments more appropriate for an early 20th century piece. It is a minor quibble since propriety of technicalities does not improve the quality of a film; but as aforementioned it is a natural anticipation in films of a particular period. When it comes to the realism of the costumes Zeffirelli’s Hamlet is the superior of the three. The late 15th century encompassed some ostensibly superfluous clothing for the Danish and designer Maurizio Millenoti outdoes himself. From Queen Gertrude’s flowing gowns to King Claudius’ royal robes the reality of it all is striking. Although Olivier’s costumes are not anachronisms like Branagh’s the costumes are scaled down. Naturally, the black and white palette would deny us the chance of enjoying whatever vitality of colour we may discover in the different costumes which is where Zeffirelli is able to triumph. The characters are literally dragged down by their costumes; when Ophelia descends into madness her stained gown is more than just an excessive prop but a part of her very character.

The proficiency of the costumes in Zeffirelli’s adaptation is enhanced by the added authenticity of his production design. Olivier is at a disadvantage since his Hamlet occurs in 1948 where the likelihood of films being shot on location was not large; the sets of his Hamlet are obviously superficial. Unlike the 1990 version where the castles seem real and the sweeping grounds of Ellsinore are genuine, Olivier’s Hamlet is not as sweeping. This is, of course, in keeping with the psychological nature of his interpretation and is no detractor from the overall goodness of the film. In fact, the scaled down nature of his sets is in keeping with the Elizabethan theatre and its minimal props. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied that the sheer splendour Zeffirelli is a bit striking to some degree. Branagh’s set design is good, but what divides it from Zeffirelli is that his sets are almost spotless. This is not the Ellsinore of Zeffirelli’s mind; this is a cleaner, grander and perhaps more noble Ellsinore.

The validity of any production of Hamlet will lie in strength of the lead character. It is a role that permits each actor to do his best with. Personally I am unable to absolutely champion any of the interpretations as faultless. Certainly, perfection is an ideal; but Olivier, Gibson and Branagh each have faults – some disconcerting some less conspicuous – that detract from the positives in their performance. Branagh, who I would readily claim to be an excellent actor, boasts my least favourite of the Hamlets. With his ominous moustache and menacing movements (not to mention his obvious age) Hamlet comes across more as a disconcerting anti-hero and less of the confused prince that he is on the page. It is not that Branagh’s acting is “bad”. He is a good actor, but his entire demeanour seems unsuited for the sensitivities of our Prince of Denmark. There is a sense that he is doing much too much for a role that shouldn’t necessarily be subtle but a trifle more sympathetic. It’s more than Branagh being inadequate on his own; his relationship with Ophelia is at its worse in this production, as far as I’m concerned. The disparity in age cannot be overstressed here. Branagh is 36 and his costar Kate Winslet (playing Ophelia) is 21. It is a 17 year age difference, and one that shows. One of the softer scenes in the play, where Hamlet renounces Ophelia (“Get thee to a nunnery”) loses its profundity in the 1996 version since I am so unwilling to accept the validity of a relationship – past or present – between the two. Certainly, the two in their separate entities try but together the chemistry is just not there. Branagh is just too freakishly sinister. On it’s own as a separate entity, his performance is fair, but taking into account the character he is playing his interpretation is bewildering.

Ironically, even though I single out the 17 year gap between Branagh’s Hamlet and Opelia, Olivier’s version sports an even more disconcerting gap. At 41 Olivier is the oldest Hamlet, and at 19 Jean Simmons is the youngest Ophelia. The gap here is 22 years. Olivier is older than Hamlet should be, and it shows. But there is a svelte manner in Olivier – an eternal showman, and he looks ten years younger than he is. He would still be too old for Hamlet at 31. But old as he is, I do not doubt the romance there. His Hamlet is undoubtedly too studied, and too (psychologically) mature and though he plays the moodiness of his character effectively it’s not completely as perfect as it could be. From reading, the conflict of Hamlet is his immaturity; this is why he cannot make up his mind. Olivier’s major crutch is that his Hamlet, though broody is far from immature. The ten year gap between Mel Gibson and Helena Bonham Carter in Ziffreli’s 1990 version is the least alarming, and on a purely physical level their romance seems truest. We never are privy to Ophelia and Hamlet’s relationship in good times, but when Hamlet denounces Ophelia there is a definite spark there and I believe – completely – that there was a significant relationship between the two. Gibson is an unlikely Hamlet. He is much more physical and boisterous than either of his peers; it’s not difficult to believe that he has not studied Shakespeare like his counterparts. To his credence, when he speaks Hamlet’s lines though – they are not just mellifluous words of Shakespeare but real words of a real man. However, Gibson lacks that vital emotional connection that such a tragic character demands, and competent as he is I am never completely moved by him. Even though he suggests the youth and boisterousness of Hamlet, he fails to bring any legitimate sense of seriousness and glumness that “Hamlet” demands. Hamlet’s first appearance in the play advocate his distemper; akin to Romeo at the beginning or “Romeo & Juliet”. Olivier triumphs in highlighting this broodiness. Despite his ostensible faults I would champion Olivier as the superior Hamlet. Yes, he is too mature but from a general level taking into account the ranges of the actors Olivier is clearly the one who is closest to Shakespeare’s incarnation, and to the common reader’s perspective on Hamlet.

Whereas Olivier triumphs when it comes to the Hamlets, his Ophelia played by Jean Simmons in an Academy Award nominated role is my least favourite of the Ophelias. I will not deny that Simmons is exceedingly beautiful has moments of charm; her early scenes with Terence Morgan (playing Laertes) are a good showing of filial love. However, she seems so amateurish here she turns Ophelia – already an ostensibly weak character on the page – into a mere trifle. I am never invested in her Ophelia and though she tries hard in those final scenes when Ophelia goes mad I don’t really care. It’s strange when you consider these words of Anderson:

Despite having no part in either of the recent versions I cannot help taking offence to Anderson who seems to have misread the entire character of Ophelia. Certainly he’s accurate in claiming that Simmons is “stunning”. She is. Ophelia, I suppose, should be beautiful. However, he implicitly says that Bonham Carter and Winslet are facially inadequate for the role. Firstly, the proficiency of any actresses’ is more than their looks and Anderson seems to be unfairly prone to conventional beauty of Simmons, who is not definitely the most beautiful of the three. Secondly, and more importantly, what inflections does a mad person make? Certainly, dramatic license may be made since each actress will interpret Ophelia in her own rite, but even as I single out Simmons’s latter scenes as at least capable I cannot completely believe that she has descended completely into craziness. Of course, I am unaware as to the realism of any truly insane person, just as Anderson is. Neither of us can explicitly vow for how Ophelia should behave when she loses her sense, however Simmons at her best seems to be feigning (capably, albeit) her madness. Even though I believe this, I do not doubt that some may be charmed her turn, since like any character interpretation it is all subjective, and unlike Hamlet it is difficult to surmise from the play what her character is explicitly like.

Simmons’ weak Ophelia is in stark contrast to Bonham Carter’s Ophelia. With her expressive eyes Bonham Carter’s Ophelia is charming, even if not as malleable as one would expect. Her Ophelia is the obedient daughter Shakespeare demanded, but she is no simpleton. Those scenes from Act IV Scene 5 play out incredibly well on screen with her, even though they are distributed unevenly. Ophelia’s soliloquies are even more disconcerting when measured against what we have seen of her earlier. Kate Winslet’s downward spirals into madness are the most horrific though. Perhaps, due to the unabridged nature of the piece the weight of Ophelia’s destruction is even more horrific. I must consider Anderson’s disgust with the “screaming” and “crying” of the recent Ophelia’s. He is probably referring explicitly to Winslet’s Ophelia, who in the latter scenes are perpetually teary eyed. Not only is this tear-stained characterisation appropriate for her interpretation of the character – but it also lends to a fuller appreciation of the character across the interpretations. Prima facie, Winslet seems to be the best of the Ophelias, but Bonham Carter’s is my personal choice. She’s now learning her talents, but she outshines every incarnation. Whereas Kate shines when Ophelia has her important lines, Bonham Carter is more magical when she has less to say making extensive use of her face and eyes.

We may surmise that Ophelia is the female lead of Hamlet owing to her title as Hamlet’s girlfriend, but Queen Gertrude represents the central female in the play. Actually, it is Gertrude’s illicit (according to Hamlet) marriage to her dead husband’s brother that directly leads to his downward spiral into insanity. In his production Olivier secured a 27 year unknown Eileen Herlie to represent the formidable figure of Queen Gertrude. It is a casting decision that seems absurd to me. Olivier’s defenders have identified the prospective incestuous relationship between Hamlet and the Queen as added reason for highlighting a potential physical attraction between the two. Firstly, I’m sure that any son – whether he be having an unlawful relationship with her mother or not – would be despaired by her marriage to her dead husband’s brother three months hence. Olivier’s take on the plot point bears close resemblance to the Oedipus complex, but regardless of whether that interpretation is valid (or accurate) I do not find it as sufficient to warrant Herlie being fourteen years the junior of her purported son. Obviously he is attempting to imbue Gertrude with as much sexuality and sensuality as possible, but are his attempts justified? Herlie’s performance is competent, and regardless of how much she tries – her youth is highlighted, not downplayed – the realism of her fathering Hamlet seems ludicrous. Interestingly enough in the 1990 adaptation Glenn Close at 43 plays mother to Mel Gibson’s 34 year old Hamlet. It is still a strange disparity in age, but not as wide a conceit as Olivier. At 43 Close is 16 years the senior of Herlie, however Murray opines “Close brings…sexuality…to Gertrude…”. Obviously, Close’s age doesn’t detract from her ability to portray Gertrude as a figure of sensuality. The running theme of the Oedipus complex are not as overt here, but in the 1990 version the evidence of Gertrude’s (physical) love for Claudius is evident. Even if we don’t quite agree, we realise that her hasty marriage is not (just?) a calculated political movement. In addition, Herlie’s age could not have been the only way of turning Gertrude into a legitimate object of affection for the men in Hamlet. It is iniquitous to criticise the vision of the play that Olivier intended, but on a scholastic level his motives for casting such a young Gertrude seem uninspired.

Interestingly, though Branagh’s Hamlet and Kate Winslet’s Ophelia share a large age disparity, strangely enough Julie Christie – playing his mother – is age appropriate for Gertrude; not for Shakespeare’s Gertrude (who judging by Hamlet’s actual age would be in her early forties), but for Branagh’s 36 year old Hamlet. Of the three Gertrudes she’s the only one who could have actually borne their Hamlet. So with a 27 year old, a 41 year old and a 54 year old playing the Queen Gertrude the question arises as to which is superior. As with Jean Simmons’ Ophelia, Olivier’s production boasts the weakest Gertrude. It’s not that her performance is glaringly bad; it is actually quite competent in the film but measuring against the more inspired interpretation of Close and Christie, it pales. There is a particular scene where Close’s Gertrude stands out. An enraged Hamlet has (mistakenly) killed Polonius and he and his mother have a fierce battle of words. Close not only outshines her co-star (Gibson), but the layers she adds to the performance and the realism of it all is astonishing. Gertrude is a completely real woman, throughout, not the steely Queen that Herlie is. Of course, this could all be attributed to Zeffirelli’s passionate take on the story. Nonetheless, Julie Christie – though not the best – is an admirable pillar for Shakespeare’s Gertrude to hang upon. In her 54 years she is completely resplendent, and though not as uninhibited as Close she still brings a strange girlishness to her character. Whereas Close shines in that pivotal aforementioned scene, Christie’s shining moments for me come when she sees the degradation of Ophelia. Her lines are slight, but Christie is a talented facial actress and her interpretation of this scene is splendid. Nevertheless, despite Herlie not being as extraordinary as her older counterparts the Gertrudes of each adaptation seems to be competently handled.

Without uncertainty I would sincerely recommend each adaptation of Hamlet. What makes each production priceless in its own right is that they are each separate and autonomous onto themselves. This is both a positive and a negative, each production goes wrong in some entities but each also goes right in many ways. On a purely populist level Zeffirelli’s 1990 production is estimable. It’s the simplest version for someone unacquainted with Shakespeare. This is obviously owing to the dramatic licences taken, lines are abridged and characters are condensed. But the realistic nature of the piece and its excellent aesthetics make it worthy, not just for its populist appeal for its performances. Glenn Close and Helena Bonham Carter were previously mentioned as particularly exceptional, and Mel Gibson though not the best Hamlet is still good. Although not one of the main characters Ian Holm’s Polonius is excellent, he is by far the best Polonius of the three adaptations. When he coaches his son Laertes with the time worn saying “To thine own self be true” he is not just saying a line, but speaking words as if they were authentically his. The Zeffirelli version however, from a purely scholastic level, is also the one diverting most from Shakespeare. The most glaring change is the placement of the pivotal “Get thee to a nunnery” speech that Hamlet delivers to Ophelia in Act III Scene One. Zeffirelli’s version retains Polonius, Claudius and Gertrude’s plan to forge an engagement between Hamlet and Ophelia, but the aforementioned speech is moved to after the play-within-a-play. This is obviously for dramatic effect, since Hamlet’s departure, his caustic remarks and Polonius’ death could easily be regarded as a logical reason for her subsequent madness. It’s not Shakespeare’s intention, though it does work within the context of the interpretation.

Branagh’s Hamlet is fortunate because it’s an unabridged account of Shakespeare’s work. The play within a play is relegated to a mere dumb show in both previous incarnations, but in this version it is a complete spoken word piece. Charlton Heston shines as the King within the play, and from this angle we are able to more appreciate the (prospective) guilt of Claudius. I was not as enamoured with Branagh’s Hamlet though Winslet as Ophelia and Christie as Gertude were good. I previously glossed over the visual capabilities of Branagh’s version, since compared to Zeffirelli they are second, but in all its spotlessness the film is a visual treat. Something I find interesting of this incarnation is the use of the flashback technique by Branagh, it’s an inspired notion. Though the film is an unabridged version of the play, but Branagh makes use of (voiceless) flashbacks as we see happier times in Ellsinore with Claudius seeming to lurk in the shadows, all the while plotting. These scenes are especially profound and are a nice addition to the narrative, and despite the seemingly tedious length of the film already (nearing four hours) it is never superfluous. We even see Claudius murder his brother as the ghost speaks which unlike the other two incarnations is more startling. Though I do say that I do not find Branagh’s interpretation appropriate for the role and his chemistry with Winslet to be feigned, the scene where he acknowledges her in the coffin is done so tastefully that I will single that particular moment out as handled the best of the three.                

In the end though, I must single out Olivier’s 1948 production as the best of the lot. It’s ironic because I am not fond of Jean Simmons Ophelia or particularly besotted with Herlie’s Gertrude, but it seems that Agee is correct when he asserts “Any production of Hamlet stands or falls, in the long run, by the quality of its leading actor.” Olivier is the best of the Hamlets – even though he is not faultless. The thing about it is that Olivier’s Hamlet is not a true representation of Shakespeare’s play. Lines are cut, and the subplot of Fortinbras (who is plotting to overthrow Denmark) is eviscerated. Purists will call foul, but even though his is not the four hour epic that Branagh is it exists as a fulfilling incarnation of Shakespeare. A moment I appreciate greatly in his incarnation is the meeting of the ghost. In 1948 little special effects are available, but as the ghost appears in a mist and his face is almost obliterated by a helmet it is appropriately haunting and seems like such an apt way for a ghost to exist. Olivier’s talent makes up for some shortcomings in his pivotal scenes with Simmons and its possible that the mystique of the black and white palette make the film even more artistic, but as a film the talents of cinematography, and editing is utilised so effectively and despite condensation of lines, it’s still particularly profound. It is not Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” complete, but more of a compact Hamlet. Nevertheless, I feel it exists as the best of the lot, even though each is significant in their own rite.

            

In the battle of Hamlet vs Hamlet vs Hamlet 

It goes thus:

Hamlet (1996) B

Hamlet (1990) B+

Hamlet (1948) B+

Another repost in my TOP 100 entry while I'm away...
...I shall be counting down the final ten soon.
              
I have a penchant for Shakespeare. As far as I’m concerned he’s the greatest writer in the world living or dead, and I’ve always taken a liking to films based on his plays. Some are good and some are not so good, but I am very fond of this particular adaptation. The Taming of the Shrew is one of the best Shakespeare adaptations to hit the big screen. It’s just a really good film – the writing, the direction, the costumes and oh the acting. I’m trying to describe this film and all the words coming to me are superlatives. Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor are two of the greatest actors ever and this is their second best collaboration (second only to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?). The strength of this play lies in the portrayal of the main character Katherine – the eponymous Shrew and Elizabeth Taylor is magnificent in this tour-de-force role. If Hamlet is the best male role Shakespeare ever wrote then Katherine is definitely the best female role.

The story of The Taming of the Shrew is simple. Katherine is the older daughter of Baptista a nobleman of Padua. She is a shrewish and temperamental young woman who vows never to marry. Her sister Bianca is somewhat of a hussy – well as much as you can be in the 1500s. She has countless suitors flocking to her, but Baptista refuses to relinquish his youngest until the older is betrothed…which doesn’t look too likely. A rather brash man shows up in Padua willing to try his hand at wooing at Katherine since she has a respectable dowry on her. What ensues is a string of highly comedic scenes and lots of loud voices with much hilarity. If you know how it ends (and shame on you if you don’t) you’ll know that the ending is somewhat unsatisfying in terms of the women, but I always figured that this was meant to be a satire (like most Shakespeare comedies) and not a realistic outlook on life. And at the end of this movie, there's a shot of Katharine's face that seems very enigmatic.
                        
It’s a testimony to Elizabeth Taylor that whenever I read "The Taming of the Shrew" it is her, and only her, that I imagine as Katherine. You’re probably wondering, is she the only good in the film? Of course not. Richard Burton more than matches her as the cad Petruchio. We already know that they had great chemistry, but it’s really heightened in this film and especially the wooing scene is just a joy to watch. The physicality of both their performances is just engrossing. And with Liz and Richard doing their thing it’s quite hard actually for anyone else to get a noticed. The original play was already working against them because only Katherine and Petruchio have especially strong scenes. However, Victor Spinetti who plays Hortensio – a friend of Petruchio – was memorable in his supporting turn.


It’s kind of beyond me as to why this movie only got 2 Oscar nominations [for Costume and Art Design] I mean, the year wasn’t exactly THAT tough. The nominated the goddman Dr. Dolittle for best picture. What's more amazing is that this movie was shot after Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? where they both went the deglam route.
                 
This is #95 on my lists of memorable films, and if you haven't seen it, and many haven't, you should definitely go and check this film out. You won't be disappointed...I hope. In addition to the great acting of the leads, the aforementioned costume and set decoration, this film boasts a melodic comedic score, and beautiful cinematography. Franco Ziffirelli does a good job directing the film, and although it doesn't stick staunchly to the play it's still too much fun for me not to love it.

...A Shakespeare Lover.

         

Why are people so fond of adapting Shakespeare to screen? I do feel he’s arguably the greatest writer so I have no issues with it, but it’s really interesting how he’s adapted and then re-adapted and then adapted again, just for good measure. The man sure has left behind a legacy. Two films I’m anticipating this year are Shakespeare adaptations. The first is Julie Taymor’s The Tempest. I like, but don’t love, The Tempest and I’m not too enamoured with Taymor’s decision to change the sex of Prospero (even if the lovely Helen Mirren has been given the reins). The second is an updated version of Coriolanus, a play I’ve never read (but I’ve never been overly fond of his histories). But with Vanessa Redgrave and Ralph Fiennes, I don’t see how I can say no.

            

I can’t say which adaptations of Shakespeare’s work are my favourites, although this list does pretend to be about that. But five incarnations come to mind immediately when I think of Shakespeare on film.

      

Olivier’s Hamlet has its issues, a number of them actually, but I’m always willing to forgive them – like Jean Simmons’ simpering Ophelia, Olivier’s obvious oldness, Herlie’s obvious youth – because it all comes together well. The film depends so much on the foreboding atmosphere, and with the black and white and the misty screen it’s so reclusively tense we can’t help but spiral down with Hamlet as he takes his journey. I guess, it did deserve it’s Best Picture win.

  

Branagh and Emma Thomson sizzle on screen as Beatrice and Benedick, and though this too has its faults (Keanu Reeves, ugh) it’s all done well. I’m actually not a big fan of the actual play, but unlike many pieces it translates excellently to screen. I guess reading it can never compare to seeing it acted and Much Ado About Nothing doesn’t shirk on the joy of it all. It boasts one of Emma's most delightful performance, it's a pity it's become forgotten...

            

...forgotten like this, another Branagh piece. I always remember the lovely Helena Bonham Carter with affection in this. Twelfth Night is my favourite Shakespeare play (an odd choice, I know), it’s perhaps my favourite play – period. There’s just something irresistible about the nuanced nature of the characters and the ridiculous machinations of the characters as subplot after subplot develops leading to perfectly delight conclusion. Imelda Staunton and Ben Kingsley too are worthy of remembrance. I can’t say why Branagh’s film has become so forgotten…

       

This film actually makes an appearance in my top 100, but has anyone seen it? This is Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor with the most chemistry between them. It’s sheer joy to watch them play excellently off each other in this farce piece. It may probably be a bit too irreverent for Shakespeare worshipers, but I’m sure that he would have enjoyed it for the sheer fervour with which they attack the lines.

           

This is actually quite a simple choice. As I mentioned in my review of it, it’s close to perfection. Leonardo Whiting and Olivia Hussey are astounding as the eponymous characters and the ensemble cast backs them up well. It’s not at all maudlin and just as excellent as the original. I’m uncertain if any Shakespeare incarnation could ever top this?

            

When I became au fait with the internet, and the large backlog of arguments concerning the Academy Awards “horrible” decisions Shakespeare in Love was one of the films that always popped up. Its name preceded it, and I didn’t see it until I could carefully explicate all the arguments against its shocking Best Picture. I had seen both Saving Private Ryan (which it “robbed” of Best Picture) and Elizabeth (which it “robbed” of Best Actress). So I saw it. As a staunch Cate Blanchett fan I was still convinced that she was incomparable as the Queen (more deserving than Palthrow who was admittedly excellent, too) but I was nonplussed as to the arguments bemoaning its Best Picture win. For, when it comes down to the argument as to which film deserved the Oscar in 1998 – I am firmly in the Shakespeare in Love camp. You can quote me.

The romantic comedy – the phrase is indicative of so much today. Even though other genres (example, drama) still manage to mete out a good romance every now and then, the good and original romantic comedy has become less and less and common. Shakespeare in Love is often referred to as another billowing period piece that Oscar fell in love with, and I’m always bewildered as to the claim. If American Beauty represents the recent Oscar flick most in tune with the time it represents, Shakespeare in Love represents the most irreverently out of its time and yet still within; a paradox of course. We’ve all been forced (I was willing, though) to study Shakespeare and the connotations of any Shakespeare play are obvious. The usual words – boring, cumbersome, indolent etc. What Shakespeare in Love does (and good grief, it does it excellently) is take the man we’ve become so remiss about and turn him into something that is in keeping with its time, but still accessible to our time and all without being anachronistic. Take away the corsets, take away the Queen – and Shakespeare in Love is still a completely enjoyable romantic comedy; but one with brains. This is because of the excellent script by Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard. I am hard-pressed to find any Best Picture winner in the last two (even three) decades that is as highly quotable, and not just because of the references to “Romeo & Juliet”. Norman and Stoppard are able to do something that would sound blasphemous; they mix their own prose with that of the Bard and makes it sound just as excellent. Their imagination is expansive as they use Shakespeare’s own quotable quotes as incidental conversation. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s not just they who makes the film works, it’s the actors.

                   

I recently cited Shakespeare in Love as having the best ensemble cast of nineties, and it’s a claim I believe wholeheartedly. Just as Shakespeare gave the smallest character a host of witticisms, the writers here do the same. Geoffrey Rush, Tom Wilkinson and Ben Affleck are stuck with roles that shouldn’t be so good, but the great words coupled with their complete understanding of their characters (the tics Wilkinson adds to his money lender are amazing) are thrilling to behold. Colin Firth has never been so despicable (not even in that other Best Picture winner) and Judi Dench in a matter of scenes creates a character to be extolled. I’m perfectly fine with her Oscar win. She deserves it only for her line reading of “Mr. Tilney have a care with my name. You’ll wear it out.” But it’s more than her line readings, she shows emotion in her character when you least expect, and it’s not jarring just authentic. If I must speak of the (supporting) cast of Shakespeare in Love I must pinpoint Imelda Staunton who has unfortunately turned into a forgotten character. It’s (arguably) the smartest allusive move from Stoppard. Imelda scintillates in each of her scenes, and she is given as much importance (and humour) as the original Nurse of "Romeo & Juliet" was given. Still, of course, these excellent players are only incidental when we come to the root of the film – William and Viola.

               

Yes, I do believe that Cate should have won the Oscar, but that doesn’t make Gwyneth’s contribution any less excellent. For an actor who’s always thrived on the (sometimes annoyingly) subtle, Gwyneth evokes a memory of old Hollywood with distinct ease here. Am I the only one reminded of ladies like Katharine Hepburn, Irene Dunne or Rosalind Russell in their youth? As Viola skips through the film, changing from male to female and back again, you can’t help but be arrested by her. Her innocence is her key to the role as we notice how her voice breaks just a little as she asks “Are you – are you Master Shakespeare?” or the profundity with which she utters those lovely monologues or the newer lines like “This isn’t life, Will. It’s a stolen season.” True, you can see her ACTING sometimes, but it works in context because Viola is a mere player, and she’s so honest that you can’t help but be charmed. Still, no one comes close in skilful excellence to the eponymous Shakespeare. I have a longstanding bone with the Academy because of their egregious snub of Fiennes who gave one of the best performances of the decade. The film depends completely on his performance. He knows to play the comedy, even the slapstick portions. However, he also knows to rein it in for the quieter moments. His moments with Gwyneth never come off as ordinary –  even though it should be clichéd...(and about that sex scene...) More than anyone in the cast, he knows how to use those lines to his benefits and he gives the best reading of lines in the film. ‘Tis a pity we’ve not been privy to more of him on the screen.

 

In the end Shakespeare in Love represents one of the most enjoyable films I’ve seen (Oscar winning or not). It’s smart, funny, romantic and just beautiful to watch and it does it all without pandering to stupidity or being condescending to the audience. Would I call it perfection? I don’t know. Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what I call it, it’s still #28 on my list of favourites and it’s still exceptional. Or do you disagree?

Well we're getting slowly, but surely. Now for top half of the forty films that I'm anticipating for this year. By this time, these are the films that I'm expecting very much of. So here's the next ten.  I hope you read Part One and Part Two.

            

Ethan Hawke probably takes the crown as the most underrated actor of his generation. He has a lead role in this cop drama which looks as if it could be a sleeper hit, and I’m hoping for that. I don't really know what it's about, which should make it somewhat lower on the list. But, that's me. Richard Gere and the talented Don Cheadle costar and the film is directed by Antoine Fuqua of Training Day fame. Here's to this.

             

I'm worried that this will not be completed for this year: three Weisz films this year does seem to be much. Weisz and Collin Farrell star as two broken people who share a tentative romance. The book is a bit of a thriller. This could be a good low-key drama, if it gets done.

           

Woody Allen. That’s enough to make me watch.The film centres on a family and the drama in their lives which isn't much, but Woody never lets on about his films - plot wise. I sure would have liked if Nicole Kidman was still attached, but the cast still looks strong. Anthony Hopkins, Naomi Watts and Antonio Banderas are actors I like and Josh Brolin is rising in my esteem, so I'm particularly hopeful for this. I like Woody's drama as much as his comedy actually.

I’m still not sure if it’s only this country that doesn’t have this or not. Is this even a 2010 release? Well, it’s Rachel Weisz who is enough of a pull for me, but the entire premise is quite interesting and it looks to be quite a provocative drama and it's directed by Amenabar who was the director of the underrated, but wonderful The Others.I expect this to be a good one.

                   

As The Mad Hatter said it’s Iron f***ing man. Of course it’s not that high on my list, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t expecting this to be good. Robert Downey Jr. is a whole lot of fun, Gwyneth Palthrow is fun when she’s having fun, Mickey Rourke is flippantly cool. And then there’s Scarlett: va va voom. It’s wrong that she’s my biggest draw her, but she is. Blame it on the hormones, but Scarlett Johansson in leather. Count me in.

             

To be honest, I was not a big fan of the first Wall Street since Michael Douglas is still a question as far as I’m concerned and Charlie Sheen is just ugh. Still, I’m interested to see what Oliver Stone can do twenty years after the fact and with Susan Sarandon and Carey Mulligan joining on with Shia LeBouef, who I believe has more potential than we can discern from Transformers, I’m excited for this. The plot follows Gekko [Douglas] who is now out of prison and trying to repair relationships with his estranged Daughter [Mulligan].

                   

                 

This could have been higher,  but form here on out it's all a toss up. William Monahan, writer of the almost  perfect The Departed adapts this novel and makes his directorial debut with this piece. It centres on a reclusive actress [Keira Knightley] who befriends  a London criminal played by Collin Farrell. Yes, this is Colin's fourth film in my top 40. Told you, he's going to be having quite a year. I'm very excited for this. Keira Knightley is broadening her horizons, and I like it. She's underrated, same goes for Farrell. I'm unsure about Monohan, I hope his debut is not too gratuitous.