|
| ||||||
|
| ||||||
|
|
Shakespeare goes to the movies...
If you have a chance to catch a
Shakespeare play performed on a real stage with live actors,
DO IT! That's what he wrote the plays for: performance.
Unfortunately theater tickets are expensive and amateur
performances (like you might see at a local college) are
sometimes . . . well . . . amateur. But Shakespeare well done
is a thrill, even if you don't catch what's going on every
minute. While waiting for the next Shakespeare touring company
to present Romeo and Juliet in your town, the local library or
video store may have some of the filmed versions of popular
plays. Here's what you might see if you check them
out. Hamlet (1990). Franco Zeffirelli directs, and Mel
Gibson plays the melancholy Dane as a nut--Lethal Weapon fans
will see shades of Martin Riggs in his performance. But I call
this a good "all purpose" version of the play. Mel's Hamlet
strikes you as somebody who might have turned out okay if his
mother hadn't remarried so soon after his dad died--he's
already upset about that, but then the ghost appears and
everything gets rotten in Denmark really fast. Paul Scofield
makes a great ghost, Glenn Close is a sensuous and oddly
girlish queen and Alan Bates is a hearty king eventually hoist
on his own petard. Helena Bonham-Carter's Ophelia seems a bit
too spunky for the type of girl who goes mad when things get
rough, but her madness is touching, anyway. Hamlet (1997) Kenneth Branaugh directed and
starred in this version that breaks with tradition in several
ways. For one thing, it's uncut, and therefore runs to almost
four hours! Before settling in with a really big bowl of
popcorn to watch it, I'd recommend reading a good synopsis
first, so you'll understand who is this Fortinbras character
who keeps popping up. Some scenes (like the "To be or not to
be" soliloquy) are outstanding, some are over the top (like
the ghost's appearance amid hellfire and brimstone), some go
on a little too long (like the duel, that has Hamlet and
Laertes chasing each other all over the palace). So,
ultimately, does the movie, but it makes an interesting
contrast with the 1990 version--notice especially the use of
light. This version also includes a few nude bedroom scenes
that I don't think Shakespeare had in mind when he wrote the
play. Hamlet (1999), directed by Michael Alymeyda. Ethan
Hawke plays the title role in a modern-day setting that
pictures Hamlet brooding over his uncle's takeover of Denmark
Corporation. Image trumps word in this version: photos, video
clips, televised interviews, closed circuit TV, news
broadcasts, stock price crawlers, mirrors, computer monitors,
fax machines. Both Hamlet and Ophelia are amateur
photographers, and he's an obsessive film editor. Both are
alienated from their parents, their society, and eventually
each other. No wonder: all the characters are so surrounded by
multi-media that reacting to each other as human beings is
impossible. Which may be the point: Hamlet's inability to act
is due to a society that blurs the distinction between image
and reality. Or something like that. This is more Alymeyda
than Shakespeare, but it's still interesting. Henry V (1989), directed by Kenneth Branaugh. This
is the movie that brought Branaugh to worldwide attention (he
also stars as Henry) and touched off a miniature Shakespeare
boom. It's helpful to have a little background in the
historical setting, or the first few scenes may be puzzling.
But stick with it--once it gets going, the movie gallops like
a charging steed, and you almost have to clamp your jaw to
keep from cheering at the St. Crispin's Day speech.
Shakespeare probably wrote the play in a spirit of gung-ho
patriotism, and an earlier movie version (1945) directed by
Laurence Olivier captures that spirit. But Branaugh's version
draws out the darker elements. He grandstands a bit over a
pile of corpses on the battlefield (Please! Cut away from the
heroic pose!), but redeems himself in the courtship scene with
Princess Katharine that follows directly after. Julius Caesar (1971), directed by John Gielgud.
This one might be hard to find, but I include it because it's
the most recent movie version of JC that I know of. The cast
is made up mostly of Americans who were better known at that
time than now. Jason Robards as Brutus seems to be
sleepwalking through his performance, and since Brutus is the
hero of the play, this is a large problem. Charleton Heston is
a convincing Antony and Gielgud, grand old man of the British
stage even then, appears as Caesar. There's an older version
(1953) with Marlon Brando as Antony and Gielgud as Brutus,
which has some fine moments. Love's Labor's Lost (2000), Directed by Kenneth
Branaugh, who stars as Berone. Branaugh's inspiration was to
stage this play, one of Shakespeare's earliest, as a 1930s
musical--complete with classic love songs by Gershwin and
Porter, fluffy costumes, lovestruck young men dancing on air,
slapstick comedy, even a water ballet. All I can say is, it
must have seemed like a good idea at the time . . . At the
end, I suspect more viewers than not were wondering, "And what
was that all about?" Macbeth (1971), directed by Roman Polanski. Jon
Finch is Macbeth. I haven't seen it, but it's supposed to be
extremely violent (define "extremely"). Orson Welles directed
and starred in an earlier Macbeth, (1948). I haven't
seen that one either. The Merchant of Venice (2005). Directed by Michael
Radford, with Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, and Joseph Fiennes. The
story of a beautiful heiress, the man who loves her, a miserly
Jew, and the man who owes him, never looked so lush.
Or so watery, but that's Venice for you. In a collection of
good performances Jeremy Irons stands out as the Merchant,
Antonio, who is willing to "risk and hazard all he hath" for
the sake of friendship. The movie is worth watching just for
the trial scene, which is as dramatic a presentation of grace
vs. law as I've ever seen. But contemporary directors seem
more interested in showing how Shylock is debased and brought
down by mean Christians, and Mr. Radford is no exception.
Shylock's daughter Jessica, who converts for love, is depicted
as regretting her choice at the end, though the play itself
indicates no such thing. Still the movie would be good family
viewing except for several scenes of Venetian ladies (of the
night) strolling the streets with bosoms uncovered. This kind
of thing was not unknown for the time, or so I've read, but I
doubt that a passion for historical accuracy is what drove the
filmmakers. A Midsummer Night's Dream (2000). Kevin Klein
(Bottom), Rupert Everett (Oberon), Michelle Pfeiffer
(Titania), Calista Flockhart (Helena), Christian Bale
(Demetrius) and on and on--a starry cast that doesn't quite
mesh. MND is a light and bubbly play, but moments that should
be magical come down a little flat-footed in this version.
There are a few touching moments, my favorite in a scene
that's usually anything but touching. It comes when Flute the
bellows-mender, playing "Thisbe" in that terrible play before
the Duke, pulls off his ridiculous wig and speaks the lines
with so much conviction that everyone has stop laughing. He
saves the play and, for me, the movie. (Classic movie fans may
want to check out the 1935 black and white version, for
historical interest only. The best thing about it is James
Cagney as Bottom; the worst thing is Mickey Rooney, whose Puck
appears to have escaped from a mental institution.) Much Ado About Nothing (1993). Kenneth Branaugh
again, both directing and starring as Benedick. The story is
exuberantly told in an Italian setting bathed in Mediterranean
light. It's one of Shakespeare's great romantic comedies, and
it's played as a comedy, with broad touches. You may wonder
why everyone strips off their clothes to take a bath in the
first scene, and what IS all that with Dogberry and his
imaginary horses. The play itself has its problems--I always
thought Claudio was a hyper-jealous jerk and saw no reason for
Hero to take him back. But the movie almost makes it work, and
makes some nice, old-fashioned statements about love and
marriage too. Othello (1995), directed by Oliver Parker.
Laurence Fishburne is Othello, with Kenneth Branaugh as a
mesmerizing Iago. Moody, dark and intense--but this is
tragedy, after all. Othello is usually portrayed as an
honorable man with a fatal flaw, and Fishburne adds a touch of
borderline epilepsy that helps explain his jealous rages. In
this version, Iago feels a homoerotic attraction for the Moor,
which helps explain . . . well, you decide. For the most part,
this is a gripping production. Richard III (1995), directed by Richard Loncraine.
Ian McKellan (you know--Gandalf in Lord of the Rings)
plays the king with the worst reputation in British history.
Warning I: Shakespeare may have done a hatchet job on
Richard's personality--it's never been established beyond
doubt that he murdered the little princes in the tower.
Warning II: this is a shocking and violent film, but it's a
shocking and violent play, too. The main problem with
Richard III these days is that it's hard to keep all
the characters and politics straight. It takes place at the
end of the Wars of the Roses, which I still haven't figured
out. The bottom line: Richard wants to be king, and will play
any part and back-stab any relative to get there. This
production updates the setting to a fictional Fascist takeover
of England in the 1930s. Romeo and Juliet (1968), directed by Franco
Zeffirelli. This is a lush, Renaissance-era production notable
for its use of teenage actors to play the leads. (Before that,
it was more common to have the star-crossed lovers portrayed
by adults). It's all very romantic, but a little too romantic
for me. Shakespeare's point, I believe, was that these kids
were in love with love and their youthful passion, running
contrary to the other passionate hotheads in Verona, led to
tragedy. Still, it's a beautiful production and well-acted.
You will need it to balance Romeo + Juliet (1997), directed by Baz Luhrman.
Leo diCaprio and Claire Danes are the star-crossed lovers in a
story updated to the present time and set in Verona Beach,
California. The Montague and Capulet gangs blaze away at each
other with oversize sidearms (favorite line: "Put down your
swords!") to a heavy metal soundtrack, while Mercutio poses in
drag and Romeo and Juliet play their balcony scene in a
swimming pool. Some scenes are nice; others strike me as way
overdone. Like Alymeyda's Hamlet, it seems more like
upstaging Shakespeare than working with him. The Taming of the Shrew (1967), directed by Franco
Zefferelli. Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor chew up the
scenery as the feuding lovers Petruchio and Kate. There's too
much time given over to Kate's yelling and Pete's chortling in
his beard--I would have liked more dialogue. But it's fun, and
the concluding scene is played straightforwardly. Sort of.
Kate sounds sincere when she pledges loyalty and obedience to
her lord, but you have the idea she'll know how to get what
she wants from him. Twelfth Night (1996), directed by Trevor Nunn.
This is an enchanting production of an enchanting play, though
newcomers to Shakespeare may have a hard time suspending their
disbelief at first. But deal with it: just accept that Viola
can be easily confused with her twin brother Sebastian, Olivia
can fall in love with a girl thinking she's a boy, and Orsino
can switch his affections from Olivia to Viola at the drop of
a soldier's cap. Love is crazy, Shakespeare can be saying--who
can figure it out? And who would want to?
_________________________________________ Two recent movies reflecting Shakespeare and Elizabethan
times may find their way into Eng. Lit. classrooms, but in my
opinion they shouldn't. They are Shakespeare in Love (1998). A true history of
young Will--NOT. Parts of this story are factual, but most of
it bears no relation to the facts. Though an interesting idea,
and very funny in places, SinL can't make up its mind
what kind of movie it is. It begins as an offbeat comedy with
shades of Money Python, veers into bedroom farce, then
shuttles between steamy romance and serious drama. Watching
the first-ever performance of Romeo and Juliet come
together against the background of "real" events is the best
part of SinL, but the climax of the movie slides into
the pattern of every feel-good ending since Rocky.
Everyone, even the Puritan nay-sayer, is on his feet and
applauding wildly at the end of the performance, while
confetti rains from the sky and the Queen herself makes a
surprise appearance. According to the story line, Shakespeare
writes the play in order to prove that he can successfully
portray the nature of true love on stage. But Romeo and
Juliet doesn't portray the nature of TRUE love at all,
and I doubt that the real Shakespeare intended it to. What the
play shows is the power of sexual attraction, which might have
grown into true love if it had the chance. It didn't have the
chance, and that's why R&J is a tragedy. The main
plot of Shakespeare in Love likewise confuses sex and
love, and they're not the same. (Trust me on this.) Elizabeth (1998). Shakespeare is not seen or
mentioned, because he wasn't born at the time it takes place.
The story line extends from the last years of Mary Tudor's
reign to the first years of her sister Elizabeth's, a time of
turmoil and treachery, as the film shows so well. Actually,
several years are telescoped into what seem like just a few:
all the characters are historical, but dumped together into a
stew of intrigue. That's not my main problem with the movie.
My main problem is the anachronistic character of Elizabeth
herself. That is, she's more like a modern young woman on the
rise than a princess of the times. She claims to see no
difference between Catholics and Protestants, carries on a
torrid affair with Robert Dudley, and laughs at William Cecil,
the old fuddy-duddy. But in reality, people of the time took
religious differences very seriously, Elizabeth had good
reason to fear sex (i.e., may have actually been the virgin
she claimed to be), and William Cecil was her most trusted
advisor. I know, I know--it's only a movie. Still, it hacks me
off (as we used to say in the sixties). Why do I go to all the
trouble of learning about this stuff if the movie-maker aren't
going to pay attention?
|
| ||||
|
| ||||||
|
| ||||||
|
| ||||||
