Good, Bad, & Ugly Period Pieces

Recent Good, Bad, and Ugly Period Pieces

by Kristin Battestella

Some of these contemporary Victorian movies and period series are impressive with literary oomph and costumed flair. However others are unfortunately disappointing, polarizing, or unwatchable humbug.

Black Field – Lanterns, rifles, and two pioneer sisters doing what they have to do make for an upsetting opening to this 2010 eighty minute Canadian parable from writer and director Danishka Esterhazy. Bleak music, isolated vistas, and empty savannahs befitting the title set off the bare home, primitive details, and Grace said over such a paltry meal. This is a desperate, bitter existence with little dialogue beyond sad lullabies as these two girls fend for themselves. The accents, immigrants, and distant French towns mix – but the nearest farm is eighteen miles away and a handsome stranger wants to earn his keep at our isolated, all female station. Backstories are shared at the table, where this shirtless charmer admits he needs the Lord's mercy and forgiveness often and there's a certain attractive scandal at holding hands for prayer. The audience creates more saucy as several scenes imply each girl orchestrates a solo encounter with their would be protector – the camera doesn't reveal if something happened, however the household balance tips with jealousy and suspicion. Are these girls in over their heads with their farm and in need of a man to help? One has been forced to mother, but the younger is infatuated and ready to rebel despite wearing almost medieval clothes perhaps fashioned from her lone book of juvenile fairy tales. There are no “decent” jobs for women in town, and sans horse, this man is their only ticket to freedom. When one sister inevitably leaves, is it willingly or an abduction? The journey on foot is bleak with storms and an all natural palette mirroring their colorless lives, and the conflict increases without the unnecessary gory dream flashes and brief viewpoint breaks. Unable to help distant neighbors have too much work and too many mouths to feed, and nearby Mounties are in pursuit of a murderer as prejudice, injuries, and wilderness dangers build fear. The chess games moves to an even smaller, meager cabin with nothing but a sheet between rooms as the tables turn. Which sister do we believe as the division makes once good girls do bad things? Although some of the acting is slightly modern, the rivalry is similar to Far North and overall this first feature is well done. Did each girl get what she wanted and will they move on from this – or will the rift change them forever? While certain elements may be obvious, all the audience suspects is revealed in good time with well paced drama and a few unexpected twists. 

 

To Walk Invisible: The Bronte Sisters – This Masterpiece television movie shines the light on sisters Charlotte, Emily, and Anne as they escape into fiction away from the tolling bells, muddy streets, and embarrassing affairs ruining the family reputation. The ladies must keep up the mid-nineteenth century appearances with capes, bonnets, and frumpy frocks alongside the crestfallen parsonage, Yorkshire cold, and drafty period poor of the on location prairies and authentic settings. In an era when they are trapped by their womanhood and dependent on their hopeless male kin's hypocrisy, these sisters prefer dogs to people – tiptoeing over fears of publishing their poems and hidden creative passions burning fast and bright. Fiery readings of their explosive text contrast their plain, crappy circumstances, but the plot erroneously deviates in favor of the sniveling and tormented at being mediocre brother Branwell, meandering from the more interesting sisters destined for glory. The ladies want to publish and express themselves freely rather than bow their heads, not make eye contact, and sell themselves as mere governesses. However they argue over whether their writings are a private pursuit or something extraordinary worthy of publication – for men write and what they pen is judged, but a woman writing is herself judged. The sisters toil under pen names with panoramic seasonal transitions as they wait for acceptance, but childhood fantasy scenes and drunken dreams are unnecessary. On the go recountings of stories within stories walking faster with speed talking to match also become nonsensical, trying to create tension on top of the stilted brotherly angst when there is enough human interest in the literary struggle. The awkwardness of snatching a letter addressed to Currer Bell is fine drama – especially when it is an acceptance for two of the girls' works, but not the third and unscrupulous publication deals follow. At times the sisters can be cliché, with bossy Charlotte, fiery Emily, and a just sort of there Anne; but the personal insights deepen with rejection letters, buying more paper, old fashioned manuscript packages, first writings of their famous novels, and sitting by the fire for silent sustained writing time. Yes please! A proud father learning of his daughters' achievements make for delightful moments, and this is downright excellent when the ladies must stand up for their publication rights by revealing their identities – after being judged for their accents, stature, and gender. Of course the finale is bittersweet, but this is a charming companion piece to reading the Brontes or for inspiring budding young writers.

An Unfortunate Skip

The Invisible Woman – Ralph Fiennes (Coriolanus) directs and stars in this 2013 Charles Dickens biopic from Bafta winning writer Abi Morgan (Shame) focusing on the forty-five year old married author's affair with Felicity Jones' (Rogue One) eighteen year old actress Nelly Ternan. English coasts, Victorian silhouettes, lanterns, and carriages create a grand atmosphere with period decorum for the fine acting, but one needs to be familiar with the people or the Claire Tomalin source book to understand this slow two hours with an unnecessary flashback frame and more relationship awkwardness. When our lovers first meet, she is smiling at his son and he is socializing with her mother amid busy theater preparations and silly rehearsals restarts signaled with overly serious crescendos. The marital rifts, groupies catching his eye, well delivered dialogue, sense of Victorian protocol, and certain British properness can't completely build thanks to all the back and forth interruptions. While the filming nicely reflects the mood as she looks up to Dickens, he stares at her neck, and they turn away at their conflicted feelings; the unfortunately accurate twenty year age difference between the actors is too weird with unromantic fireside close ups and girly giggles too young to be sensuous. It is neat to see some early mass hysteria over a feisty, charismatic author commanding the crowds, even though this biopic may be trying too much with talk of debtor's prison, voiceover quotes on poverty and charity, and Dickens the social reformer intermixed with his side piece counting the donations. If he doesn't love his uncreative wife, what does he see in a talentless girl playing actress? There's no reason to love the troubled melodrama when the objective camera shows the creepy – she's hunched at the door as he is at her shoulder whispering to be let inside for a silent first touch. The eerily done up Fiennes is a fire and brimstone minister over his tempting flock, but the conflict between literary master and dirty old man is too disjointed with some chaste patty cake in the final fifteen minutes before an abrupt ending and a Victorian sense of shame confusing modern audiences. Tom Hollander (The Night Manager) as fellow libertine Wilkie Collins and concerned mother Kristin Scott Thomas (An English Patient reunion, hello!) are also totally underused, and more time may have been better spent on the terribly mistreated wife Joanna Scanlan (Getting On) – who seems like the real hidden lady. It's tough to look at this difficult subject matter objectively, and this unfocused, close to vest structure where not much happens doesn't help. Is this the tormented Dickens, Nelly's present reflecting on him, his wife's pain? Though interesting for biographers and sociology viewers or Fiennes fans and period propriety, this is simply frustratingly plain to watch.

Didn't Finish 'em!

Downton Abbey: Seasons 4 and 5 – Year Three of this Masterpiece series jumped the shark, and I quit watching then. The 2013 Fourth Season, however, is not a good place to join the show, as names and references from prior seasons are dropped or forgotten as needed, interesting personal developments below are pushed aside for the same above toil, and regardless of the Interwar happenings and historical opportunities, everything always come back to who Michelle Dockery's Mary will marry. Numerous maids, nannies, footmen, relatives, suitors, and royals come and go – wasting time before a typical and totally unnecessary rape as plot device trapping The Bateses (Joanne Froggatt and Brendan Coyle) with murder again. Each hour also has Allen Leech's Branson asking if he is truly upstairs or down, treading tires as said to be a writer who's never seen actually writing anything Edith (Laura Carmichael) literally has her romance disappear while she's kidnapping her baby from not one, but two adoptions. Past dalliances and present companionships for Granny Violet Maggie Smith, Penelope Wilton's Isobel, and Doctor David Robb are more interesting. All the supposedly progressive plots with Lily James' superfluous Rose meant to introduce the changing times, and it is the elder cast's reflections that better capture the aristocratic upheavals. More loud mouth recurring characters take up screen time in Series Five, which frustratingly repeats itself despite it being 1924. Are people who call this the Greatest British Drama Ever watching the same show I am? I bailed with a few episodes left as reading the summaries to see how Season Six ends was easier than the poorly paced and uneven storylines onscreen. Most scenes only last a minute or two, and intercut whimsical moments disrupt serious conversations – plots on homosexuality are cut short in favor of suspected gardeners stealing letter openers and secret heists over absconded royal love letters. The location, costuming, and period looks are the best part of the show, and such frocks, jewelry, tiaras, and dressing for dinner decorum wrapped in posh accents is what appeals to international audiences most. This era has an embarrassment of riches – I still believe they should have never left World War I – but everything here is really just like every other soap opera. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

War and Peace – 1805 St. Petersburg locales, Moscow estates, and lavish aristocratic balls set the scene for this 2016 adaptation anchored by the likes of Gillian Anderson (The X-Files), Stephen Rea (The Crying Game), Rebecca Front (Up the Women), and many, many more. There are numerous introductions, comings and goings from place to place, and explanations of who is who and how they are all related while arguing at the count's deathbed over his will. Similar names and a dash of foreign words will be confusing – viewers need to know the book and the history amid the marrying cousins, matchmaking, creepy siblings, and two faced nobility. The Regency costumes may not always be accurate, the younger ladies look like little girls playing dress up, the military uniforms are too big on the modern boys, and their tricorns look downright silly. Though the tiaras, furs, and feather fascinators are fun, they don't distract audiences from all the British accents overtaking this decidedly Russian epic. Weren't there any continental actors available? Despite the small television scale, ominous music, fog, canons, horses, and gunfire lift the battle action amid a fine religious undercurrent with church blessings and everyone crossing themselves. Unfortunately, it's tough to care about all these lookalike solider boys when they are so gung ho about the revolution yet can't see how they are being played. They run their mouths off and drum up their cowardly wounds – Sharpe was much more soldier-esque in comparison, and Brian Cox seems like he's in a different battle theater than the overly millennial princes, tsars, and REMFs looking for glory. The heady, flashy dreams, drunken saucy, shadowed nudity, whispered seduction, and male butts are unnecessary Tudors knockoffs as the bitchy little girls at home plot for love or money, and the back and forth editing between war action and at home intrigue creates uneven weight – maybe a more linear plot per episode would have helped balance the younger, weaker cast. I feel like I should like this more, but the atmosphere doesn't have that extra period timelessness. I got half way through, but there's no attachment to the numerous characters bottlenecking for the spotlight between all the try hard narrations. One might find it easier to just tackle the Tolstoy direct instead.

A Shakespeare Trio, Twice!

A Shakespeare Trio, Twice!

by Kristin Battestella

My To Watch List has a long line of Shakespearean shows, so let's steamroll on with more all things upon Avon pomp, circumstance, and powerhouse performances!



Macbeth – This 2010 Peabody Award winning television rendition retains the Shakespearean text but transposes its two and a half hour Scottish Play to a surreal regime with stock footage of explosions and bombs setting the scene before eerie hospital gurneys, flat lining monitors, and freaky witches disguised as nurses. Underground bunker planning adds to the purgatory paranormal, and despite the unseen battle action, we recognize the fascist peril and prophecy gone awry. The kingsly talk doesn't seem out of place with mid-century guns thanks to fine delivery all around, and Sir Patrick Stewart looks the rugged soldier – a passed over thane ready to take credence in a supernatural hope too good to be true. His mustache and dress uniform hit home the cutthroat regime coup, and this desire for power becoming reality is more frightening and contemporary than we care to admit. Stewart faces the camera directly for his soliloquies, getting angry and closer to the lense as his political exterior consumes his guilty interior. He's getting ahead of himself in doing away with everybody, and the violence snowballs out of control. Lady in white Kate Fleetwood should be a forties dame beauty, however her harsh jawline and sharp cheekbones invoke a grim reaper facade, pairing her ill intentions with a psychotic yet sexy, alluring look. She's had plenty of time to plan her ascent while detesting her domestic duties – Mrs. MacB seems loving at first, but her blood red lips foreshadow her killer finishes and belittling cruelty. By contrast, her excellent sleepwalking scene strips this devil in a red dress down to a slip, no make up, and her true skeletal hollow. The audience cannot escape her foreground mental breakdown just as she cannot wash the blood from her hands. There are no major effects here, however period dressing, swift editing, and colorful lighting transitions provide cinematic flavor. Green sickly hues reflect mounting jealousy, and omen sound effects such as tolling bells, owls, and ravens create an eerie atmosphere for the hellish elevator traversing the titular up and down fates. Television parades, dictator banners, fancy fur hats, and glamorous red designs escalate the selling the soul downward spiral – using the sophistication of the era with dinner parties, period music, and record players as well as chanting and firing squads for wartime horrors. Upsetting Macduff killings add Anne Frank symbolism while noir photography accents the empty, darkening sets and increasingly tighter camerawork. Some may dislike the surreal intrusions or slow motion gory, but the source play is amoral and spooky, lending itself to such fascist horrors. The fitting bunker siege finale against the Macbeths looks not Bard, but like an action history drama – shrewdly keeping the parallels fresh in spite of this period setting on 400 year old material. Here the human drama, great performances, and bloody aftermath are done superbly with story, location, mood, and no need for hyperbole.

Richard III – Producer, director, and writer Laurence Olivier assembles an excellent, knights included, everybody who is Bard anybody ensemble featuring Ralph Richardson, Claire Bloom, Cedric Hardwicke, and John Gielgud for this hefty 1955 adaptation costing a mere 6 mil. The effortless repertory proves how pleasantly period the Shakespearean dialogue can be – even in this condensed yet two and a half hours plus edition with excised characters and outside source material. Although the complicated plots and ploys require some background knowledge, the opening scrolls provide medieval flair thanks to rousing music and monastic chanting while setting the War of the Roses backdrop with a who is Lancaster and who is York introduction. I wish all Shakespeare adaptations did this! Some Burger King crowns are ugly and cheap, granted, but colorful costumes, banners, and regalia dress the castle staging in a slightly fantastic look – and hennins, people, hennins. Our titular deformed brother looks smarmy with a glare to match, on the side but intrusive before addressing his famed soliloquy directly to the camera. This up to no good unreliable narrator is the jealous audience anchor – cheated by his half a man facade yet witty and gosh darn likable as he keeps us in the know on his plans. Larry's tour de force is despicable yet enjoyable, with creepy asides daring viewers to witness his crocodile tears, marital deception, and multifaceted but seemingly effortless orchestration of brother against brother. The well done camera work matches this fly on the wall tone with over the shoulder peering, following characters through opening doors, and tracking shots across the whispering court. Such interior filming may seem congested to some – horses on set can't hide the fake snow and obviously tiny ye olde stage streets, either. However, this intimate, no scale world matches the behind closed doors family squabble at work, and the court increasingly darkens while Richard is on the throne. This doesn't feel like mid-century happy go lucky bright thanks to eerie night before the battle dreams, yet the Technicolor and VistaVision looks remain fresh. How did Sir Laurence and company not win more awards? This history is in some ways ahead of its time with its attempt to air on television and be released in theaters simultaneously – something Hollywood is only recently starting to embrace with video on demand. The feature laden Criterion DVD is an enjoyable listen just to have on the television for some background or to get in that medieval mood. It's no tragedy when Richard gets his just do in this sweeping and ironically self-aware Bosworth topper. We know how he gets the crown – with almost an hour left over those poor Princes in the Tower – and we know how the kingdom for a horse ends – with new grave findings, too – yet this vile 15^th century tale remains ruthless good fun. 

Shakespeare Uncovered – This 2015 six hour Second Series from PBS uses plenty of stars to discuss all things Bard, and Hugh Bonneville, Ralph Fiennes, and Julie Taymor fittingly begin with the magic, fantasy, and universally appealing imagination versus reality of “A Midsummer Night's Dream.” Shakespearean history and Elizabethan scandals help breakdown stage references, comedic play within a play awareness, and text both bawdy and innocent thanks to fairies and Greek motifs. Episode Two, however, goes dark and depressing with tempers, paternal angst, rivalries, and regrets as Christopher Plummer, Ian McKellan, and Simon Russell Beale discuss “King Lear.” Contradictory madness and fragility are debated alongside separating the man from the crown, arguable happy endings, James I influences, and the never to old to reform lessons. Morgan Freeman uses Old West parallels and Bill's humble birth, sly jokes, and play commentary on the emerging London theatre industry to chat “The Taming of The Shrew” with Julia Stiles, Brian Cox, Tracey Ullman, and Fiona Shaw. Early performance footage of Meryl Streep, Raul Julia, John Cleese, and Burton and Taylor clips shape the sexism controversies, sexual innuendo, and new jokes on old nag cliches with fresh spirit, heroic independence, and a proactive female character not having any of this man's world be silent – at a time when the men on stage played the women! The fourth hour “Othello” discusses race in Elizabethan times, travel and culture exchanges, overt historical racism, and the unfortunate blackface depictions of Anthony Hopkins and Laurence Olivier with David Harewood, Imogen Stubbs, and Patrick Stewart. Are there ones close to us that would thrive on our weakness or love just to stir the pot? You betcha, and such orchestrated hatred, jealously, and killer love is as relevant as ever. The final two episodes feel somewhat thin with more focus on the slightly pretentious on the scene presenters, however Kim Cattrall, Vanessa Redgrave, Janet Suzman, and Richard Johnson tackle the moody middle aged love versus politics, famed film perceptions, and empire shaping culture clashes of “Antony and Cleopatra” via obscure productions, intimate candlelit rehearsals, and Shakespeare's own Julius Caesar character roots. Joseph Fiennes, Orlando Bloom, Condola Rashad, and footage of Alan Rickman as a young Tybalt anchor the familiar “Romeo and Juliet” finale as the iconic relevance of these star crossed teenagers is explored with clips from Shakespeare in Love, West Side Story, the beloved Zeffirelli film, Baz Lurhmann's update, and Montagues and Capulets ballets. Rather than being stuck in a school desk and reading aloud – hated that – the historical Italian sources, comedic wit, and rival happy endings get interactive and out loud with school exercises and role reversals. This series is lighthearted but no less informative, and the conversational atmosphere is perfect for budding Bard fans to marathon straight through or for picking and choosing in comparing classroom discussions.

Hammer House of Horror

Hammer House of Horror Delightfully Demented

By Kristin Battestella

Long famous for their horror films, Hammer branched into television for the 1980 anthology Hammer House of Horror. Though short lived, this quick dose of frightful holds up nicely.

 

“Witching Time” starts Disc 1 of the five disc DVD set with period candlelight design, fun film within a film scandals, adultery, and nudity in expected Hammer film fashion. Spooked animals and power outages add atmosphere before the titular witches run amok. Sure the acting is a bit over the top, but this is a morbid mix of hex meets eighties naughty and jealous fantastics that keeps up the twists throughout. “Thirteenth Reunion” adds driving scares, hysterics, and a sardonic awareness of the scary as the hour touches upon women’s rights, weight loss, fat shaming, and sexism. The investigative angles and mystery unravel nicely, and a ghoulish suspense leads to some wild realizations. Denholm Elliott (Raiders of the Lost Ark) stops by Hammer House of Horror next for “Rude Awakening” and its creepy realty, pleasing confusion, eerie fortellings, and circular build up escalate the tension for some great toppers.

Disc 2 continues the scary quality with laboratories and one creepy kid I’d take right back to the orphanage in “Growing Pains.” Though the dead rabbits, dogs gone wild, and LSD shenanigans are not for the faint, there’s an interesting blend of technical talk, parental relationships, and ghostly vengeance. Is this bad science or a more sinister spiritual commentary at work? “The House That Bled to Death” has a moody silent start to establish its macabre, murderous elderly and suspicious realty ala Amityville along with disturbing kid’s parties, some kinky, and judgmental neighbors – I don’t want to say much more. Fine cinematic development raises these horrible happenings, and ahem, cat lovers beware! It’s slow to start, but freaky masks, voodoo spins, and African art contribute to the financial and business pressures, wills, and motives in “Charlie Boy” – not to mention that eponymous, shudder inducing doll. It’s also interesting to see a then-taboo interracial couple dealing with the intercutting crimes, and there’s a good variety of accidents and deaths. The desperation mounts as the murderous thoughts come to fruition. One can’t pick and choose the victims, yet it’s so easy to lose control.

Hammer House of Horror peaks with “The Silent Scream,” starring Peter Cushing, Brian Cox (Troy), wild cats in cages, electricity experiments, past injustices, and natural fears of confinement. While Cushing seems so well intentioned and charming as always, there’s something fishy afoot. Difficulties in readjusting to life on the outside and concentration camp consequences blend wonderfully with the trapped feelings, horror bizarre, disturbing Pavlov’s dog elements, cover your eyes intensity, and unexpected twists. Where is the line between humans and animals? What will we sacrifice under the pressures of confinement? “Children of the Full Moon” handles more traditional fair with kids gone wolfy, stranded honeymooners, and a spooky mansion nearby. Unseen camera perspectives and howls set the monster mood as the suspicion and family macabre build for a fun finish. “Carpathian Eagle” is a bit dated and I might have enjoyed seeing the past evil deeds of the countess more – plus, if you blink you’ll miss 007 himself Pierce Brosnan, too. Fortunately, the mix of old time styles and taxidermy accent the bloodthirsty history, saucy, and violence along with amusing wigs, make up, disguises, and serial killer suspense.

The great guests continue on Disc 4 with the occult rituals, eerie mirrors, and demonic symbols in “Guardian of the Abyss.” Maybe its small scale compared to the style we expect in Hammer films, but Blake’s 7’s Paul Darrow makes the moody visual effects and beastly masks even better. It’s Avon gone antiquing, people! John Dee history, Elizabethan relics, and cat and mouse pursuits over the titular demonic raisings top these sinister gents, sacrifices, and foretold twists. Likewise, Blake himself Gareth Thomas and Dark Shadows alum Kathryn Leigh Scott have some scary violence, well done hysterical, and heady camera work in “Visitor from the Grave.” Hinted history and a suspicious domestic design add to the murderous cover up, hauntings, and mental instability. The screaming may be too much, but clues, consequences, and séances make for a wild end. Seemingly family friendly to start, “The Two Faces of Evil” picks up a hitchhiker in a slicker and puts a scary stop to the tranquil with a spooky hospital, mute injuries, and a fearful inability to share what has happened. The gaslighting mounts thanks to distorted camera work and a weird, funhouse feeling. This macabre might be too crazy for some but the stitched together memories and menace win out.

The understandably then too shocking “The Mark of Satan” concludes Hammer House of Horror with operating table intrigue and morgue morbid – all those shrouded bodies about while morticians wax nostalgic on drilling into the skull over quotes of Keats and Shelley! How would one relieve the body of a trapped soul or evil within? Bible research, spooky sunglasses, and eerie repetitions of the number 9 are enough to wig one away from Sudoku while odd jump cuts and transitions add to the disturbed feelings and numerology paranoia. Askew film angles, creepy mothers, murder – I don’t want to say any more! There is too much depraved for sensitive viewers, indeed, but this is a befitting topper to finish the series. Yes, it is a bit unusual to have this one odd episode on the last disc with two brief interviews featuring Kathryn Leigh Scott and Mia Nadasi. Naturally, I would have liked more Hammer history and horror analysis or reflection on the time and retrospective thoughts from experts in spoiled contemporary video fashion. However, merely having this once unreleased episode available with a few perks is delightful enough for the Hammer completist.  

Other than knowing this series was made by Hammer and short lived at 13 episodes, I came into viewing Hammer House of Horror relatively unaware – and that’s probably the best way to approach these well done fifty minute eeries. The suspense isn’t stretched thin; remaining well paced and making the macabre feel longer with fully developed cinematic flair across the variously spooky subjects. Though the of the time slang and British accents may be difficult for some audiences without subtitles, the late seventies values, period style, and lovely Hampden locales complete the expected Hammer charm. The per episode introductions on the DVD set also provide some fun background to each tale, including information on the cast and crew or related horror film connections. While some may choose to skip these optional anecdotes in preservation of the plot twists, most are bemusingly spoiler free, and it’s a wonder why more series don’t do this kind of trivia. The teasers to start each hour are likewise quality cliffhangers, and though short, the gothic style credits and opening theme set the Hammer House of Horror mood perfectly. Granted, there is a noticeable over reliance on too many car chases and vehicular perils – most of which are for the sake of the suspense or an easy plot device. With such a short series, detail obsessed viewers will recognize that most of the locations are the same, too. Thankfully, Hammer House of Horror uses this shoestring design to wink at the audience, for it’s as if this same idyllic English countryside is rampant with any and all these creepy happenings.

I wish there was more of the Hammer House of Horror, and this marathon viewing has spoiled me! I want all the great horror anthologies, all on one channel, one right after the other, and give them to me now. For longtime spooky-wise viewers, there may not be enough of the knock your socks off scary spectacle style. Maybe Hammer House of Horror is too dated or obvious and cliché compared to longer lasting compatriot series. Nonetheless, ‘tis a pity that the struggling finances and behind the scenes at Hammer Studios prematurely locked the door on the Hammer House of Horror design, for the mature old time sophistication here remains most definitely atmospheric and sickly entertaining.  

Coriolanus (2011)

Coriolanus a Fine Shakespeare Twist

By Kristin Battestella

Like most of the viewing public, I didn’t pay much attention to Ralph Fiennes’ 2011 film adaptation of Shakespeare’s least performed play Coriolanus as it made the festival and limited theater rounds. Despite its quality cast and interesting looks, some audiences may have also been put off by yet another modern retelling of the Bard. Forget your hesitations, for Coriolanus is indeed a fine presentation of Shakespearean statements and modern political intrigue.

Caius Martius (Fiennes) rebuffs the starving Roman people and fights his long time enemy Aufidius (Gerard Butler), the leader of the Volscian army, before capturing the city of Corioles. Martius returns home honored by Senator Menenius (Brian Cox) as Coriolanus, and his mother Volumnia (Vanessa Redgrave) convinces him to run for consul. Jealous tribune Sicinius (James Nesbitt), however, seeks to undo Martius’ glory, pushing Coriolanus into an alliance that will threaten all of Rome…

Shakespeare, a Modern Muckraker?

Let’s get some of the negatives out of the way first. Part of Coriolanus’ problem is right there in its title. Honestly, if people can’t pronounce it or even say it without a chuckle, they aren’t going to go see it, and it takes a half hour for the eponymous character to earn his name. Debut director and star Fiennes (The English Patient, Harry Potter, Schindler’s List) and screenwriter John Logan (Any Given Sunday, Skyfall) place Shakespeare’s politics on the modern battlefield, but keep his original syntax, and at first, the dialogue might not seem all that Shakespearean. It’s just some soldiers giving lots of lofty speeches and declarations, right? Once the “A place called Rome” title card and the obviously Latin names pop up, however, audiences unaware – or misled by the trailer – might be quite confused. I knew nothing of the play before my viewing, and accustomed, spoon fed audiences may be further bewildered by the quality gray of Coriolanus. For whom do we root? The players and happenings aren’t clear-cut, and hectic editing and fast street violence will be tough to follow. The bright outdoor photography and smart uses of news footage are very pleasant in highlighting the war torn and graffiti ridden locations, but I wish the camera had pulled back a little for the opening battles. With smoother camera work, the early action swift and quality soliloquies wouldn’t feel so uneven. The contrasting, too dark interiors also create what appears to be a mix of genres that shouldn’t be together. Did I also mention how the dialogue is so soft compared to all the violence? These two hours may seem dry to start, granted. Perhaps it takes too long to get to the meat of the tale – half the film, in fact. Once the twists and tables turn, however, Coriolanus makes for dang interesting stuff. 

Coriolanus seems off to a somewhat rocky start, but the aforementioned media uses and modern heavies beautifully bring Shakespeare’s politics into the 21^st century. Everyone here knows what’s happening by watching the news – the aptly tongue in cheek Fidelis TV network – and crowds record the action with their cell phones. Coriolanus must go on a talk show for his campaign, which is replete with compromising, ass kissing, and chewing one up and spitting one out. It’s also totally bemusing to see the political pundits arguing in ye olde English, and the way the officials supposedly speaking for the public manipulate the fickle people for their own advantage is downright eerie for a post 9/11 world. Personality and spin win it for the politicians instead of those more capable of doing the job, muckrakers raise up one who may be rough around the edges only to vilify and betray him later, and everyone wants something for nothing – these are ridiculously relevant topics from Fiennes. Martius hates the people because they are so fooled and can take down the whole system with their sway, but his harsh honesty could have been good for Rome. Instead, Coriolanus is filled with subtext and tragedy all around. Who’s the victim here – the fooled people, the sold out senate, or Coriolanus? The ending is a little abrupt and the people we want to see get their dues don’t, but this plotting is all very fitting.  I’m surprised Coriolanus has never been filmed before, and after knowing nothing of the play going into my viewing, I really enjoyed the turn of events here.

The Worthy Thespians

Coriolanus would suffer immensely if its lead weren’t on form, but Fiennes delivers the expected top notch as both a modern action badass and Bard talking artiste. We may not think of him primarily as a physical star, but his intense, hand-to-hand, claustrophobic combat feels authentic. The ruthless Martius aims his gun at common folk and sprouts arrogant witticisms before going to battle – his mano y mano knife fight with Aufidius is heavy, dirty, almost intimate in their hatred. We believe Martius is loyal and honorable thanks to his action prowess and service to Rome, but there is an underlying disturbia to his having too much power thanks to his proud, unflinching attitude. As Coriolanus, he doesn’t want the glory, politics, and cameras in his face where those closest to him would compromise his beliefs, shut his mouth, and manipulate him for their own gain in hopes of riding his coat tails to the top. Is Coriolanus an uncouth, elitist bigot? Yes. Does he deserve how the tables turn upon him? Perhaps not.  Thanks to Fiennes’ contorted, in your face performance and transformations in appearance, one almost feel bad for Martius as he is humbled and risen again. Of course, there are many reasons to dislike Martius, flawed and opinionated as he is, but Fiennes delivers on all the action and arguments. I’m surprised more awards didn’t happen for Coriolanus and its performers.

 

Now, why is it we only hear about 300 star Gerard Butler when he is doing some crappy comedy or Hollywood party infamy if he’s making quality pictures like this? His Aufidius doesn’t say much and perhaps Butler is a little too soft spoken or seemingly uncomfortable with the Shakespeare script, but his natural accent does wonders for an angry Bard delivery.  Strong secondary leading parts like this are perfect for Butler. Aufidius has serious weight, substance, and guerilla leader badassery. When he proclaims, “He’s mine or I am his,” we believe Aufidius’ Shakespeare style and battlefield desperation. The Volscian leader must silently watch as glory follows Martius, but he has the love of his people and the eventual change a roo for these two is wonderful. Aufidius should be pleased to see Martuis’ comeuppance, yet he welcomes him to his cause in a timeless statement on how enemy soldiers have more in common with each other than those for whom they fight and serve. He worries about Martius’ superiority, yes, but isn’t so big headed himself to take a backseat or use any opportunity for his cause. Unfortunately, when Coriolanus doesn’t lead Aufidius to victory and Roman glory…. Of course, Butler doesn’t have nearly as much screen time as Fiennes, making their ongoing battle somewhat one sided. It’s strange to think of him as under utilized in what is a very strong performance, but that’s due to his stinky films, not the juicy here. I wish Aufidius would have been developed further, but Butler looks dynamite and holds up in action and performance to Fiennes.

By contrast, I was surprised by how out of place Jessica Chastain (The Help, Zero Dark Thirty) seems as Martius’ safe at home but worrying wife Virgilia. I haven’t seen all of her work, but her modern glam and buzz pretty do not come across right in Coriolanus. Her poor handling of the yesterday’s dialogue seems young and American inexperienced amid a cast of British heavyweights. Is it just a thinly drawn character, a simple wife meant to be weak? One wonders how she can deliver these lines with a straight face, and her few scenes with Fiennes are too awkward. Fortunately, Vanessa Redgrave (Julia, Atonement) is ever classy at Martius’ scene stealing mother Volumnia. Her delivery is smooth, casual, and upscale despite what turns out to be a very ugly role. Redgrave keeps Volumnia graceful yet so ready to explode under the surface. Coriolanus is what we would call a mama’s boy thanks to Volumnia’s heavy-handed power wielding thru him.  He knows it, but can’t escape her long political arm. I was shouting at the television and holding my breath for their final scene! Again, I’m surprised no awards followed, although audiences almost expect this type of meaty performance from Redgrave. Likewise, Brian Cox (Troy, X2) is effortlessly Shakespearean as Senator Menenius. Seriously, you imagine he speaks this way at home! Menenius is slick and suavely tries to work the political middle ground– but that’s fall on your sword territory if there ever was any. James Nesbitt (Murphy’s Law, The Hobbit) is always fun to see as well. His plotting Sicinius lays it on so thick that the public doesn’t even realize he is telling them what they want to hear purely for his own gain. That sounds so familiar!

Not Your Daddy’s Bard

Despite its modern setting – or perhaps even because of it – Coriolanus does well in its straight Shakespeare telling, although I would have liked a bit more depth or fleshing out in some of the player motivations. Where’s the spin or expanded character development? Shakespeare seems a little too weak or straightforward here, and the support is too broadly drawn. When one is adapting something a touch inferior, often some form of Hollywood twist happens instead of a beat for beat interpretation. I was expecting some matricide or adulterous scandal to cap it all off! Thankfully, Coriolanus’ modern warfare bleak looks good. It may seem like such a simple thing, but you can really see who is who amid the bright, on form fighting, weapons, and uniforms. Like some of that crazy camerawork, there is a fair amount of blood and death in your face, but the gritty violence doesn’t overtake the subtly fascist looking fashions, parades, and pomp. The real world Serbia locales add to the fighting as well. There’s no need to spend millions for historical Roman battles when you can say more by putting your ensemble in contemporary, bittersweet reality. Again, the subtitles are necessary indeed, and the blu-ray quality is a must. I waited to receive Coriolanus on blu-ray rather than indulge my Netflix Instant Watch, but I was disappointed in the rental copy’s abundance of previews and blink and you miss it Making Of featurette. The commentary is great, but I expected more of the proverbial book to screen analysis and extensive behind the scenes documentation.

Truly, Coriolanus is a successful, ambitious adaptation, but it doesn’t seem as blockbuster grandiose Kenneth Branagh Shakespeare to the masses opus as it could be. There’s nothing wrong with a smaller, subtle commentary on the Bard and the world today – I wish we had more mid sized, intimate films like this. However, Coriolanus’ ultimate problem is that it isn’t sure who its audience is. Modern action viewers will like the battlefield scenery and rousing military Shakespeare, but they may not appreciate all the high end, confusing dialogue in between.  Likewise, die-hard Shakespeare enthusiasts may be disappointed that this biggest adaptation yet of this little done title is not in its original setting. Further still, the only people who will get a film like this are those who can understand the Shakespeare as modern political propaganda or parallel intelligentsia audiences. The cultured film fan who seeks out Coriolanus will adore it, but this picture isn’t a feel good general public movie meant for the CGI obsessed, popcorned, and brainwashed masses. Anymore today it feels as though that’s why most pictures are made!  Coriolanus will take multiple study viewings, but Shakespearean classrooms can also enjoy an assessment. Although it was quite enjoyable to go into Coriolanus relatively cold and unfamiliar with its source, this adaptation does what it should do – get people to read the dang play!

Disjointed, early unevenness notwithstanding, Coriolanus gets better as it goes on. As the star and the film’s director, Ralph Fiennes demands your attention. He proves that Shakespeare is still very relevant and can be transposed to today with all plot, power, and politics intact. Older, more thought provoking audiences looking for sophisticated action, performances, and statements should see Coriolanus ASAP.  

Sharpe's Rifles

Sharpe’s Rifles Good Introduction to Series

By Kristin Battestella

Not many Americans are as familiar with Bernard Cornwell’s Sharpe series as we are say Hornblower or Patrick O’Brien’s seafaring fiction. A & E’s films series of C. S. Forester’s Hornblower series and the big screen release of Master and Commander: The Far Side of The World starring Russell Crowe have helped these stories find an audience, but the British made for television Sharpe movies have yet to find mass American appeal. Honestly I don’t know why.

1993’s Sharpe’s Rifles starts the series in good fashion. Known for his mostly villainous roles in US productions, Sean Bean (Patriot Games, The Fellowship of the Ring) stars are Sergeant Richard Sharpe, a ruffian journeyman soldier in the midst of England’s war with Napoleon in Spain. After saving the life of Arthur Wellesley (David Troughton)-soon to become Lord Wellington-Sharpe is promoted to Lieutenant and placed in charge of the 95^th rifles’ Chosen Men. Sharpe struggles with the gentlemen above him who have bough their commissions while earning the respect of his sharpshooters-including Irish Rifleman Patrick Harper (Daragh O’Malley). Intelligence Major Hogan (Brian Cox) sends Sharpe and his men across Spain in search of a missing banker carrying a badly needed gold draft for the English Army. Along the way, Sharpe must help Major Vivar (Simon Andreu) and Commandante Teresa Moreno (Assumpta Serna) and their Spanish guerillas inspire the oppressed Spanish people against the French.

 

It seems like a lot, yes, and considering Sharpe’s Rifles takes from several of Cornwell’s books, there’s much to set up, back story to explain, people to introduce. This first in the series sometimes falls into the pitfalls that come with introducing one to a series. Which is meant to be the story? Sharpe’s bonding with his men and Teresa or the mission? Each storyline presented is tied up all in good time. One need not continue with the series, but one need not see Rifles to appreciate the second film Sharpe’s Eagle.

 

If the story or set up seems thin, then it is the characters that will keep you watching. We may hate him in America if we know him at all (My husband calls Sean Bean a ‘glorified extra’!) but Sharpe made Bean a household name in the UK. The RADA trained actor can show Sharpe’s anger and doubt, as well as his sensitive side. Yet Bean looks the rough and tumble part. Natural to say that if you don’t like him, you won’t like Sharpe. Richard can be quite an arse from time to time, but he is a soldier of his time. Likewise we may not be used to the stereotypical Chosen Men, but all fit their parts. The educated Harris, The boy Perkins, and of course Harper-the Irish man serving in the English Army.

Not all for the boys, Assumpta Serna is perfectly cast as Teresa Moreno. The tough guerilla leader shows her soft side with Sharpe. It’s not an easy role-the ice queen type- but Serna looks the part of this intelligent noblewoman fighting with the consequences of her war torn country.

 

One miss for Sharpe’s Rifles is the score. The nineties electric guitar music is completely off for the time period onscreen, and the style has not stood the test of time. With such British-ness already about it, the ‘Over The Hills and Far Away’ song is perhaps also too English for us across the pond. A rousing classical score would have served the series better. The look of Rifle’s may also seem on the cheap now, but the uniforms, weaponry, and locales all carry the right authenticity to them. The scale for the first film here is small, dealing mostly with peripheral action during the war. Some of the fighting does, however, look ill chorographer and edited. In some sequences we see rifleman simply falling on the ground or Sharpe himself merely looking around in the smoke. There’s a lot of military violence, but little blood and gore.

Spoiled younger audiences would probably skip Sharpe’s Rifles but the solid story from Cornwell adapted by Eoghan Harris is worth a gander. Female fans of Sean Bean will no doubt enjoy, but military fans looking for rough action or Napoleonic authenticity will also get hooked on Sharpe. Kids under 10 may not understand all the military politics or shy from the kissing scenes, but it could be fun to turn tweens onto the films and perhaps the Sharpe novels.

Sharpe’s Rifles is available individually on DVD or in several Sharpe sets. Unfortunately there are no features, and the digital transfer doesn’t look the best quality. Whether the gritty look is what the production was going for or if its simply weak technology, I don’t know, but the ills don’t infringe on the viewing. In fact, the negatives are all but forgotten once you get into the twist and turns, action, intrigue, and romance that seem to follow Sharpe.

Is Sharpe’s Rifles the best film in the series? No, but as the introductory film, it doesn’t necessarily have to be. What you need to know is set for a British boys’ good time. Good enough even for us Americans to enjoy.

Normally, our book comparisons are also posted in the comments section below, but our Rifles analysis was so big, it has its own post here.