10 Shakespeare Movies Everybody Should See - Part 1 (1-5)
Adapting Shakespeare to the screen presents a myriad of problems and opportunities for the filmmaker. After all, centering a camera on a soliloquizing actor as they stare off into the nothingness of filmic space could, in fact, be perceived as stagey and artificial to a film-going audience of the early 21st century. None other than Laurence Olivier thought to have solved this problem with his version of “Hamlet” from 1948, by rendering Hamlet’s monologues as products of a voiced-over, interior, thought process. Audiences and critics seem to have responded, granting the film the Oscar for Best Picture, and Olivier himself the award for Best Actor. A filmmaker such a Roman Polanski can choose to focus on atmosphere and setting when adapting the Bard, as in his 1971 version of “Macbeth,” where the cold, rocky crags of Scotland help to inform the bloody-minded bleakness of events as they unfold, some of which are spoken by a fantastically naked trio of witches. Baz Lauhrman’s version of “Romeo and Juliet,” from 1996, caters itself to a young demographic, with its frenetic pacing, a constant, booming soundtrack, and what seems like a jillion jump-cuts. Thus, in over a century of cinema, filmmakers have adapted, tweaked, and molded the Shakespearean canon to their own devices and desires.
Before jumping into our list of ten Shakespeare films, it should be noted that the list itself is, in no way, a best-of List, and is thus not intended as definitive. As truth, one need only glance at the previous paragraph, as Olivier’s “Hamlet,” Polanski’s “Macbeth,” and Luhrman’s “Romeo + Juliet,” don’t even appear on the list, though they easily could have. Anyone wishing for diversity of content may be disappointed, as Kenneth Branagh and Akira Kurosawa appear on the list twice, deservedly so. Don’t like it? Tough. Make your own damn list. š Lastly, although each one of these films vary in quality, all of them are laudable and deserve to be seen by those who wish to take their Shakespeare seriously.
1. Henry V (1989)
How many great moments can a film have? A plethora of them, apparently, if Kenneth Branagh’s “Henry V” is any measure. From the Chorus’s opening monologue, mellifluously provided by the classy Derek Jacobi, to the cavernous throne room in which we first glimpse the young King Henry, to the heroically patriotic Agincourt speech delivered before Henry ushers his men into battle, to the climactic, unbroken panning shot as Henry saunters through the battlefield, victorious, everything works in this film. All of a piece, Branagh’s film is perfectly cast and executed, with confidence, verve, and perfect pacing. Indeed, “Henry V” is a veritable template of how to do Shakespeare well and render it accessible to everyone. If the film has a flaw---and it doesn’t, really---it may be that it falls victim to Branagh’s tremendous egotism (a trait he shares with Orson Welles, another noted Shakespearean, who will appear later on this list). As a filmmaker, Branagh does not shy away from making himself the focal point of every scene, or, in making himself look and sound as good as possible. But that’s beside the point, as his film is about as perfect a Shakespeare adaptation as could possibly exist.
2. A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935)
While it could be argued that no one has ever successfully adapted “Midsummer” to the silver screen, this relic from the early sound era boasts several things to recommend it. German refugees Max Reinhardt and William Dieterle are listed as “co-directors” on this project, but in reality, Reinhardt effectively acted as producer, with Dieterle calling the shots behind the camera. Dieterle, as director, wears his Germanic roots on his sleeve, employing the dark blotches and shadow forms of German Expressionism in order to give the Theban wood of “Midsummer” an appropriate air of mystery and confusion. From this perspective, this “Midsummer” from 1935 looks great, with many of its actors decked out in lavish, elaborate costumes that seem to glow and sparkle in front of Dieterle’s camera. The cast is solid and able in its Shakespearizing, most surprisingly James Cagney who, while not anyone’s first choice to play Nick Bottom, infuses his character with an earthy pragmatism, so we can easily imagine him as the leader of a troupe of rag-tag actors. The real revelation, however, rests in the performance of a juvenile Mickey Rooney in the role of Puck. He steals the film with his youthful energy and desire to eke as much passion and whimsy out his lines as possible. Even if this early Hollywood treatment of Shakespeare verges into melodrama and idiotic comedy, this may be as much a fault of Shakespeare’s text, as it is of the film itself.
3. Much Ado About Nothing (1993)
Although not a perfect film, Kenneth Branagh’s version of “Much Ado” is a solid follow-up to his triumphant “Henry V.” It is indeed a pleasure to watch Branagh-and-then-wife Emma Thompson bicker and banter back and forth as Benedick and Beatrice. The sexual tension that needs to exist between these two characters is palpable, to be sure, and after their first sparring match, both actors leave the audience wondering how they could not end up in bed together. As electric as the Branagh-Thompson pairing may be, problems in the films casting abound: Denzel Washington and Keanu Reeves are cast as recognizable, bankable faces, as Don Pedro and Don John, respectively, with Washington providing a clipped, overly-cautious performance, and Reeves looking and sounding about as lost as anyone could with the Shakespearean language. All is not lost, however: Michael Keaton is inspired and gloriously profane as the man-servant Dogberry, who could very well exist as a close cousin to Beetlejuice, as Keaton portrays him. A young, achingly beautiful Kate Beckinsale is perfectly cast as Hero, with both Shakespeare and Branagh realizing that all she needs to do is act beautiful, which she does winningly. Lastly, as with “Henry V,” Branagh’s “Much Ado” looks great, existing in an eternal summer, with everyone and everything decked out in oranges and pinks and purples, making the film easy on the eyes. Even with its obvious missteps, few filmmakers, could provide as solid a production of “Much Ado About Nothing” as Branagh does here.
4. Chimes at Midnight (1966)
“We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master shallow; we have, we have”: this vaguely ominous line, spoken by Sir John Falstaff near the beginning of “Chimes at Midnight,” Orson Welles’ melancholy, solipsistic, adaptation of the “Henry IV” plays, works as a hint of the type of personal, cinematic vision Welles had created. The line itself, bespeaking of Falstaff’s sense of nostalgia, a lost golden age of beer, bar maids, and bloody battles, certainly held a poignant, personal meaning to Welles as a filmmaker. By the time he spoke this line, in 1966, Welles had burned nearly all his bridges within the conventional, studio-led, Hollywood film industry, willfully, possibly even spitefully, existing on the cinematic margins, as a vagabond, madcap rogue-genius of a filmmaker, gleefully flitting from one aborted cinematic project to another. For Welles, playing Shakespeare’s disheveled, corpulent, ultimately cowardly knight, meant more than taking on a role; it was a crusade, a final battle that could not fail. Fortunately, for Welles, his desperate gambit paid off: from taking excessive liberties with Shakespeare’s script---with Welles choosing to start his version of “Henry IV” at Act 3, scene 2 “Henry IV, pt. 2!!---and jumping around however he saw fit to create continuity, to his conscious choice of shooting the film in stark black and white, to deemphasizing Prince Hal as a character, choosing to focus on Falstaff as a dynamic personality instead, such choices help to create a bold, unmistakably Wellesian version of Shakespeare. From the technical innovation of swinging hand-held cameras in order to emulate the chaos of battle, to the casting of Sir John Gielguld as an austere, rigid Henry IV, appropriately perturbed by Hal’s waywardness, Orson Welles’s stylized fuck-you to Hollywood, stands as a distinctive take on the Bard.
5. Richard II (2012)
Billed as the opening salvo of the seven-part “Hollow Crown” series of adaptations of the two parts of “Henry IV,” “Henry V,” the “Henry VI” trilogy, culminating with “Richard III,” Sam Mendes’s “Richard II” is the best of all them. Indeed, it boasts a definitive portrayal of King Richard, played with masterful, poetic ease by Ben Whishaw. In Whishaw’s capable hands, Richard’s demerits as King---an inability to relate to people on a genuine level, a reliance on formality and ritual, a seemingly willful dismissal of political subtleties---is mitigated by a seemingly infinite capacity to lend poetic, symbolic meaning to the world around him, even if that meaning is germane only to himself. The rest of the cast is solid, especially Rory Kinnear’s usurper, Bolingbroke, who brings a good degree of gravitas to a character who will eventually ascend the throne as Henry IV. Essentially a staged version of the play set in front of multiple camera’s, Mendes, Oscar-winning director that he is, gives his “Richard II” nice flourishes, from displaying the contenders for Richard’s throne, Bolingbroke and Mowbray, in full plate-mail armor, to breaking away from the stage and setting Richard’s famous “Let us talk of graves” speech on a beach, as Richard flips and contemplates its pebbles. “Richard II” is solid, through and through, even if it is stylistically bland.
Click here for part 2!
Before jumping into our list of ten Shakespeare films, it should be noted that the list itself is, in no way, a best-of List, and is thus not intended as definitive. As truth, one need only glance at the previous paragraph, as Olivier’s “Hamlet,” Polanski’s “Macbeth,” and Luhrman’s “Romeo + Juliet,” don’t even appear on the list, though they easily could have. Anyone wishing for diversity of content may be disappointed, as Kenneth Branagh and Akira Kurosawa appear on the list twice, deservedly so. Don’t like it? Tough. Make your own damn list. š Lastly, although each one of these films vary in quality, all of them are laudable and deserve to be seen by those who wish to take their Shakespeare seriously.
1. Henry V (1989)
How many great moments can a film have? A plethora of them, apparently, if Kenneth Branagh’s “Henry V” is any measure. From the Chorus’s opening monologue, mellifluously provided by the classy Derek Jacobi, to the cavernous throne room in which we first glimpse the young King Henry, to the heroically patriotic Agincourt speech delivered before Henry ushers his men into battle, to the climactic, unbroken panning shot as Henry saunters through the battlefield, victorious, everything works in this film. All of a piece, Branagh’s film is perfectly cast and executed, with confidence, verve, and perfect pacing. Indeed, “Henry V” is a veritable template of how to do Shakespeare well and render it accessible to everyone. If the film has a flaw---and it doesn’t, really---it may be that it falls victim to Branagh’s tremendous egotism (a trait he shares with Orson Welles, another noted Shakespearean, who will appear later on this list). As a filmmaker, Branagh does not shy away from making himself the focal point of every scene, or, in making himself look and sound as good as possible. But that’s beside the point, as his film is about as perfect a Shakespeare adaptation as could possibly exist.
2. A Midsummer Night’s Dream (1935)
While it could be argued that no one has ever successfully adapted “Midsummer” to the silver screen, this relic from the early sound era boasts several things to recommend it. German refugees Max Reinhardt and William Dieterle are listed as “co-directors” on this project, but in reality, Reinhardt effectively acted as producer, with Dieterle calling the shots behind the camera. Dieterle, as director, wears his Germanic roots on his sleeve, employing the dark blotches and shadow forms of German Expressionism in order to give the Theban wood of “Midsummer” an appropriate air of mystery and confusion. From this perspective, this “Midsummer” from 1935 looks great, with many of its actors decked out in lavish, elaborate costumes that seem to glow and sparkle in front of Dieterle’s camera. The cast is solid and able in its Shakespearizing, most surprisingly James Cagney who, while not anyone’s first choice to play Nick Bottom, infuses his character with an earthy pragmatism, so we can easily imagine him as the leader of a troupe of rag-tag actors. The real revelation, however, rests in the performance of a juvenile Mickey Rooney in the role of Puck. He steals the film with his youthful energy and desire to eke as much passion and whimsy out his lines as possible. Even if this early Hollywood treatment of Shakespeare verges into melodrama and idiotic comedy, this may be as much a fault of Shakespeare’s text, as it is of the film itself.
3. Much Ado About Nothing (1993)
Although not a perfect film, Kenneth Branagh’s version of “Much Ado” is a solid follow-up to his triumphant “Henry V.” It is indeed a pleasure to watch Branagh-and-then-wife Emma Thompson bicker and banter back and forth as Benedick and Beatrice. The sexual tension that needs to exist between these two characters is palpable, to be sure, and after their first sparring match, both actors leave the audience wondering how they could not end up in bed together. As electric as the Branagh-Thompson pairing may be, problems in the films casting abound: Denzel Washington and Keanu Reeves are cast as recognizable, bankable faces, as Don Pedro and Don John, respectively, with Washington providing a clipped, overly-cautious performance, and Reeves looking and sounding about as lost as anyone could with the Shakespearean language. All is not lost, however: Michael Keaton is inspired and gloriously profane as the man-servant Dogberry, who could very well exist as a close cousin to Beetlejuice, as Keaton portrays him. A young, achingly beautiful Kate Beckinsale is perfectly cast as Hero, with both Shakespeare and Branagh realizing that all she needs to do is act beautiful, which she does winningly. Lastly, as with “Henry V,” Branagh’s “Much Ado” looks great, existing in an eternal summer, with everyone and everything decked out in oranges and pinks and purples, making the film easy on the eyes. Even with its obvious missteps, few filmmakers, could provide as solid a production of “Much Ado About Nothing” as Branagh does here.
4. Chimes at Midnight (1966)
“We have heard the chimes at midnight, Master shallow; we have, we have”: this vaguely ominous line, spoken by Sir John Falstaff near the beginning of “Chimes at Midnight,” Orson Welles’ melancholy, solipsistic, adaptation of the “Henry IV” plays, works as a hint of the type of personal, cinematic vision Welles had created. The line itself, bespeaking of Falstaff’s sense of nostalgia, a lost golden age of beer, bar maids, and bloody battles, certainly held a poignant, personal meaning to Welles as a filmmaker. By the time he spoke this line, in 1966, Welles had burned nearly all his bridges within the conventional, studio-led, Hollywood film industry, willfully, possibly even spitefully, existing on the cinematic margins, as a vagabond, madcap rogue-genius of a filmmaker, gleefully flitting from one aborted cinematic project to another. For Welles, playing Shakespeare’s disheveled, corpulent, ultimately cowardly knight, meant more than taking on a role; it was a crusade, a final battle that could not fail. Fortunately, for Welles, his desperate gambit paid off: from taking excessive liberties with Shakespeare’s script---with Welles choosing to start his version of “Henry IV” at Act 3, scene 2 “Henry IV, pt. 2!!---and jumping around however he saw fit to create continuity, to his conscious choice of shooting the film in stark black and white, to deemphasizing Prince Hal as a character, choosing to focus on Falstaff as a dynamic personality instead, such choices help to create a bold, unmistakably Wellesian version of Shakespeare. From the technical innovation of swinging hand-held cameras in order to emulate the chaos of battle, to the casting of Sir John Gielguld as an austere, rigid Henry IV, appropriately perturbed by Hal’s waywardness, Orson Welles’s stylized fuck-you to Hollywood, stands as a distinctive take on the Bard.
5. Richard II (2012)
Billed as the opening salvo of the seven-part “Hollow Crown” series of adaptations of the two parts of “Henry IV,” “Henry V,” the “Henry VI” trilogy, culminating with “Richard III,” Sam Mendes’s “Richard II” is the best of all them. Indeed, it boasts a definitive portrayal of King Richard, played with masterful, poetic ease by Ben Whishaw. In Whishaw’s capable hands, Richard’s demerits as King---an inability to relate to people on a genuine level, a reliance on formality and ritual, a seemingly willful dismissal of political subtleties---is mitigated by a seemingly infinite capacity to lend poetic, symbolic meaning to the world around him, even if that meaning is germane only to himself. The rest of the cast is solid, especially Rory Kinnear’s usurper, Bolingbroke, who brings a good degree of gravitas to a character who will eventually ascend the throne as Henry IV. Essentially a staged version of the play set in front of multiple camera’s, Mendes, Oscar-winning director that he is, gives his “Richard II” nice flourishes, from displaying the contenders for Richard’s throne, Bolingbroke and Mowbray, in full plate-mail armor, to breaking away from the stage and setting Richard’s famous “Let us talk of graves” speech on a beach, as Richard flips and contemplates its pebbles. “Richard II” is solid, through and through, even if it is stylistically bland.
Click here for part 2!
Comments
Post a Comment