[Take note--this review was posted on April Fools' Day! -Moderator]
MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING
A film review by Mark R. Leeper
Copyright 1994 Mark R. Leeper
Capsule review: Imagine a film with the point of view
of THELMA & LOUISE but set in medieval Italy. No, it is not
even that good. There is some nice Italian scenery, but the
film reeks of feminist rhetoric with a blood-thirsty man-
hater as its hero. Rating: -2 (-4 to +4).
With the coming of April, I felt it would be nice to see a warm-weather sort of movie and the video release of MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING seemed about right. The title makes it sound as if it is a carefree sort of film. WRONG! What we have is a particularly vicious exercise in political correctness and anachronism. What this film gives us is almost two hours of tiresome lecture on how wise and good women are and how stupid, gullible, and vicious men are. The story is set in some historical never-never land. The film never even bothers to tell us exactly when. Even CONAN THE BARBARIAN, itself set in a historical never-never land, at least gives you some context as to when to place it. But the two films have similar approaches, at least in their polyglot cultures. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING seems to be set mostly in Italy, maybe late 13th Century, but we have Spanish names indiscriminately mixed into this witch's brew. In any case, it does not matter. The characters and their attitudes are all 1990s, or at least how somebody sees the 1990s.
I knew I was in trouble from the very beginning when the film opened with a song about how faithless and useless men are. That would be bad enough, but director Kenneth Branagh puts the words on the screen and all but puts a bouncing ball with them. So the whole audience is reading as well as hearing his sexist diatribe against men. The song is sung by Beatrice, the hero of the piece. (But not the Hero of the piece. A rather insipid female character is given the name Hero. I am surprised Beatrice is given a name like "Beatrice" rather than "Sisterhood" or just "Woman." Perhaps the name conjured up some picture of women beating men.) Beatrice hates all men, for good reason no doubt. At the beginning of the film she is haranguing against Benedick, who has been off to some war, risking his life for people like Beatrice. But her hatred is still strong. (It's as if she is saying, "Women, take note. Do not let absence soften your heart. Always remember who the Enemy is. Your country will lie to you about who your enemies are. Just remember the real foe is Man.")
What follows is intended to be a comic mix-up of treachery. There is a good schemer and a bad schemer. The good schemer is case in anachronistic black. (Denzel Washington is good, but he is not convincing as a medieval Spaniard. I suppose, though, that one must be politically correct in one's casting.) The evil schemer is played by Keanu Reeves, whose acting is the dramatic equivalent of the sound "thud." His scheme is to prevent a marriage from taking place and for this he is branded the villain of the piece. Little mention is made of Beatrice's own scheme. As the film wears on, Beatrice has softened on Benedick but now hates Claudio. She gives Benedick the task that if he loves her (oh, he now loves her for some reason) he should kill Claudio. That is on the pretext that Claudio has caused Hero's death, but Beatrice knows it is not true. She merely wants to see Benedick kill Claudio. The film never says that Beatrice, trying to arrange murder on what she knows is a false pretense, is doing a bad thing. The victim, after all, is only a man. If women murder innocent men, well, all men are guilty of something or other--maybe for being "potential rapists." "Men are deceivers ever," as Beatrice says. It is open season on killing them, ladies. That seems to be the theme of this rather odious piece of cinema. And what about the law? Well, here the law is represented by Dogberry (Michael Keaton) and he comes off as being even less than human. This film is one diatribe against men after another.
The photography of Italy is very nice when it does not have some jerk of a man dancing in a fountain. (I have never seen a man dance in a fountain--but the director wants to make men seem a trifle flighty along with all their other failings.) The screenplay is by William Shakespeare, more than likely the pen name for some woman who has been spending her time in feminist bookstores. Rating: -2 on the -4 to +4 scale.
Mark R. Leeper
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