HAMLET
A film review by John Bauer
Copyright 1997 John Bauer
**1/2 (out of 4)
After many years of watching movies I should have seen quite a few adaptations of Shakespeare by this time, but the fact of the matter is that those few I have seen (e.g., Zeffirelli's THE TAMING OF THE SHREW, Olivier's HENRY V) irritate as much as they impress. It's true that Shakespeare's work is something I more often admire than enjoy. Who is not awed by the incredible beauty and poetry of his language? Yet the stories themselves can seem long-winded and overly complex.
Which is not to say that no play of Will's can succeed today. I have been fortunate to have seen several stunning theatrical productions of Shakespeare that have managed to breathe incredible life into English literature's most sacred texts. I have even witnessed such success onscreen in Kenneth Branagh's MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. But if all of the components are not perfectly in tune, I fear I find the Bard tedious.
Branagh is making something of a career out of filming Shakespeare, this HAMLET being his third attempt. He is to be admired not only for trying to bring such classics to modern audiences, but also for not pandering to same in the process. This is not WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S ROMEO + JULIET, complete with MTV enhancements of sound and vision. Rather, in a rare show of faith in the material, we are presented with Shakespeare's original text, complete and unabridged.
While the effort may be noble, however, the result is somewhat less so. As in MUCH ADO, the cast is a mix of British and American actors. In fact, HAMLET's large ensemble is packed with recognizable faces, so much so that it reminded me a bit of old-fashioned Hollywood epics. Even Charlton Heston, an icon of those epics, makes an appearance -- and a damn good one it is, though not all the familiars fare so well.
But the most profound fault in this version of HAMLET lies not in the use of stars, but in Branagh himself. Far from striking me as troubled, indecisive, or bordering on madness, Branagh's Prince seems more like a highly composed actor displaying his range. His dashing blond coif and smashing black attire only emphasize the point. That he is also a highly talented actor is not in doubt; some of his scenes are quite moving, including the famous soliloquy. But without a Hamlet who can give some cohesion to the sprawling story, the tale loses its meaning.
It does not help that for all the preserved dialogue, much of it is spoken to an annoying and inappropriate underscore. I'd prefer to let the words speak for themselves. Likewise the camera and editing are rather hyperactive, particularly in the first half -- seemingly a desperate concession that a four-hour movie may not hold our interest after all. (Although the idea of showing an edited version for Peoria strikes me as ludicrous, I am now curious as to how it turned out.) And though the indoor scenes in the central court are reasonably well lit, much of the outdoor cinematography is washed out and lacking in mystery. At one point, the appearance of the Ghost almost recalls the tacky artistry of ED WOOD(!).
I wish I could say better of this film. I *want* to like Shakespeare. And I want Branagh to keep trying to show me why Will is so great. Alas, this HAMLET has not made me all that eager to see more.
May 1, 1997
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