A Shakespeare Trio, The Fifth!

A Shakespeare Trio, The Fifth!

by Kristin Battestella

Spring is upon Stratford-upon-Avon, so it's time for another trio of tragedy, shrews, and Shakespearean documentary. Huzzah!

King Lear - Ian McKellan (Richard III), Romola Garai (Angel), Sylvester McCoy (Doctor Who), and Frances Barber (Silk) anchor this 2008 two and half hour PBS television presentation based on the cast's previous stage performance also directed by Trevor Nunn. Although such small scale stage design and up close cameras may seem congested at times, other frames are well done with a deceitful daughter in the foreground looking over her shoulder at the angry father questioning which child will prove her love and earn her inheritance. Colorful gowns, regal red robes, and strategic lighting invoke a fifteenth century abstract meets anachronistic Cossack look while frenetic organ music parallels the titular senility. Our seated king is an indulged old man, fickle, and vain. He's pushing for more flattery but exiles his favorite over a blunt opinion when such honesty doesn't glorify him. Rival duchies toe their positions while everyone wants a piece of the king's power but not his affection, and several soliloquies almost break the fourth wall as viewers understand the illegitimate son looking for an angle. Between brotherly coups and dukes in disguise, our regal dad bounces from daughter to daughter – neither want him there and we understand that, too. Lear has no one to blame but himself as he descends from the gilded seat to dark brawls and jester humor, snapping and shouting amid angry gesturing and out of control tears. This ornery old man is surrounded, not with feigned love and regal safety but a rainy wilderness of fools and madmen. In such squalor, one might even suspect he is imagining his jester on the moor as his spiral spreads to the aristocracy with hangings, eyes gouged, and armies approaching. The barren outdoors stir an overcast purgatory for this near biblical reform as blind fathers meet lost sons and the women's costumes likewise darken to match their jealousy and power through their weak or lusty men. The older dog may learn the error of his ways, but there is a higher cost for such late education. Where Lear once reigned from a bright court on high, now the bleak swords and battle planning happen within the hedge hogs. Is it better to be crazy and blissfully unaware or do you realize your humility too late and pay the terrible price? This turmoil could have been prevented, and as much as we feel the family emotion, the tearful reunions and brief moments of clarity only lead to more poisons, duels, suicide, and executions. Without subtitles or name tags for all the dukedoms, the intrigue may be confusing if you don't know who is who. Time away from the eponymous circumspection lags a little and this is too long for a younger classroom. However, this play isn't meant to be Bard for the youthful audience either. One has to be in the mood for such depressing, but this is a well played take on the enduring tragedy.

The Taming of the Shrew – After the bitterness of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? for their fifth collaboration producers Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton starred in this 1967 feature comedy debut from Franco Zeffirelli. Pleasant countrysides, rainbows, sing songs, carnivals, and cobblestone set the bemusing scene while big plumes, jumbo sleeves, and velvet galore invoke a colorful sixties meets medieval jovial. Some of the crowd scenes are, well, crowded, but the wide camera captures both the stage action and all the movement within alongside creative up close angles. We know that's Liz's violet eye spying through the shutter before we even meet her! The viewer is smitten by her huffing, puffing, and wild hair amid laugh out loud rough and tumble chases, Kate sitting on a trap door to prevent Petruchio from entering, and his swinging across the loft a la Tarzan to reach her. Beautiful and talented as she is, however, Taylor doesn't quite have that effortlessly iambic Bard rhythm. She plays her dialogue seriously against gruff Dick's larger than life wink but that contrast does match the shrewish behavior. The leads may be a little old for these roles, too, but the battle of the sexes ruses and boys will be boys disguises aren't meant to be taken at face value. Subtitles are still a must, yet the trimmed dialogue is less about the younger daughter with multiple beaus and more about getting the bawdy done with her older eponymous sister. Framing elements and side characters are excised for these two hours, emphasizing this wooing with peacock feathers on full display. Despite a very misogynist subject with men making all the plans and never considering the women's input, part of the charm here is in seeing a strong woman like Kate clap back at such brash male thinking when Petruchio takes her over his knee. This lady peering through the window pane is well aware of the fronting – Kate's having none of it, he likes it that way, and our leads' off screen turbulence adds to the je ne sais quoi. Why must the woman who can take ownership of herself cower so the man can claim her? Does he test her spirit so she'll keep him on his toes? This couple balks at courtship while celebrating why love is worth it, and it's interesting to pro/con or compare and contrast the then versus now innocence, rowdy, and acrimonious here, with Woolf prior, and Zeffirelli's subsequent Romeo & Juliet. Is it better when the woman won't come when called or does so but steals his thunder? Taylor's Kate becomes a refined woman that makes her husband look good, and here I'd like to think of her final speech as the orgasm restaurant scene in When Harry Met Sally. Whether the woman is tamed or pretending, the man may never know.

Shakespeare Uncovered – Season One of this 2013 six episode PBS series opens with Ethan Hawke exploring the serial killer line between man and monster in “Macbeth.” Archival Orson Welles, Sean Connery, and Patrick Stewart clips compare the Thane's capacity for violence and a king's ambition versus an actor's drive for success amid psychiatrist input, ballet interpretations, and body language cues breaking down The Bard syntax. Scholars discuss the historical sources and Scottish locations as well as witchcraft and politics in Shakespeare's time, yet the superstition and recognizable evils almost place the ruthless circumstances and self-fulfilling prophecy in modern horror terms. Joely Richardson, Vanessa Redgrave, and Helen Mirren study the more lighthearted but multi dimensional female roles of As You Like It and Twelfth Night in “The Comedies” with Old Vic tours and insights on Bill's early, ordinary life shaping his relatable characters in an era when the parts couldn't even be played by women. 1910 silent films and Alec Guinness footage accent the liberating disguises despite the problems they cause – like falling in love with the wrong person. Gender subtext and stage cross dressing present more about what's inside thanks to paired androgyny or twins lost and found. Ganymede terms and mistaken identities further push the sexual innuendo, letting the audience in on the layered gender studies of this four hundred year old play. Westminster Abbey graves, poetic verse, and prophetic warnings for leaders who believe in their own invincibility anchor “Richard II” with Derek Jacobi and Ben Whishaw comparing their own interpretations alongside Ian McKellan and John Gielgud performances. Professors study the gilded artwork reflecting Richard's divine influence amid regime changes then and now, Thatcher history, Elizabeth I coups, and de Vere authorship possibilities. Can a king separate the man from the duty and go out on his own terms? Jeremy Irons, Tom Hiddleston, and Simon Russell Beale tackle the patriotic rousing of “Henry IV and V” with Laurence Olivier highlights, The Hollow Crown behind the scenes, Shrewsbury locales, and play with in a play revelations. Shakespeare took historic license to heighten his drama – unafraid to get brutal with famous speeches, noble ambiguity, and dark consequences on fathers, sons, and the inescapable mortality we bear. David Tennant and Jude Law test that most celebrated very definition of theatre “Hamlet” by choosing a version in the video store – Mel Gibson, Kevin Kline, or Monty Python. Bad Quarto and First Folio side by sides strip down the grief, anger, and revenge, exposing an actor's personal retrospection and raw performance with the audience inside his state of mind as Hamlet famously asks what's the point of it all. Shakespeare's own ill father and dying son influenced this writing of ghostly specters versus imaginative excuses and righting wrongs at the expense of the son, however later Freudian interpretations add to the poisons and maternal taboos. Episode Six “The Temptest” has directors Trevor Nunn and Julie Taymor end discussing the ambitious fantasy of Will's last complete play and whether or not he himself played Prospero in this semi autobiographical text with experimental stage directions, Bermuda shipwreck inspirations, and colonialism suggestions. Early candlelit presentations, Christopher Plummer footage, and today's inventive storm on stage effects recount the stranded father cum unforgiving alchemist unable to keep his daughter away from new princely influences. Was art imitating life for The Bard? The more he tries, the more Prospero looses control as his beastly servants deliver beautiful speeches on good versus evil duplicity and nature versus nurture choices. Lofty soliloquies ponder the celestial and life itself using puns on the globe – both theatre and world must face that inevitable final frailty. Although thoroughly British with a certain pretentious formality at times, more often than not this personal per hour remains educational with densely packed information and analysis to pick and choose a discussion.

A Shakespeare Trio, Frice!

A Shakespeare Trio, Frice!

By Kristin Battestella

Yes, apparently “frice” is the four that comes after thrice. Who knew save for us as we dive in to another potluck of Bard titans?! 

 

Chimes at Midnight – Orson Welles' (Othello) once obscure 1965 Falstaff opus adapts several Shakespeare plays – mostly Henry IV Parts 1 and 2 with Richard II, Henry V, and The Merry Wives of Windsor – as Ralph Richardson (The Heiress) narrates the Mortimer tense for John Gielgud's (Julius Caesar) king. Welles' larger than life Falstaff fills the screen, remaining the bright spot in focus at the center of the frame even when speaking over Keith Baxter's (Peeping Tom) shoulder as the foreground Prince Hal. Falstaff looks at the camera directly when looking toward Hal – if he isn't trailing behind him that is, rotund even as the stone castles, distorted angles, and grand interior arches keep the men beneath them small. The taverns, medieval wood works, capes, and period garb are amazing for as strapped as the production was, and the Criterion blu-ray is a restored black and white crisp. Strategic lighting schemes use sunlit rays to grace Henry IV while Prince Hal is near the light but not yet gilded and the challengers remain shadowed. Falstaff steals the show with his own court at Boar's Head, ever embellishing his stake and entertaining Hal with his booming humor. Unfortunately, Falstaff knows the joke will be on him once Hal grows up and takes on the big cross and great crown worn by his venerable father. He's like us, loyal yet cast aside, past his prime, and unable to change, fight, or compete with the king. The Shrewsbury charging horses, swords, maces, and violence are impressively modern, a lengthy battle severing the fun had beforehand with surreal fog, mud, superb music, and handheld pacing reflecting the brutal whirlwind. Hal must fight and kill but instead of robbing Hotspur of his youth, he's lost his own innocence – a loss from which Falstaff tried to protect him. Welles tightens the tender around Falstaff by clarifying his arc across the plays, however this compact focus also rushes everything else. Some editing is messy with quick, unnecessary cuts probably from the production struggles, and Welles' self indulgent portrayal is often over the top and hokey even as it is still relatable – we're meant to see through the windblown no matter how big the belly. Falstaff's a poor old fat guy making himself out to be something else while clinging to his young well connected friends. My gosh, it's just like facebook! If they were such best buds, why should Hal forget him once he becomes king? Was it all really just being used for kicks? We can understand why such a betrayal breaks the fool's heart. One needs to be familiar with these plays, as this is not an introductory piece for a young audience but rather a divisive film between purists not liking the changes and viewers familiar enough with Shakespeare to take a different look. Nonetheless, this is a captivating story of becoming a man and putting away childish things that can be returned to at several stages in life, and Welles' take should be seen at least once for this personal, bridesmaid perspective.

Henry V – A very baby faced Kenneth Branagh (Wallander) makes his much lauded directing debut in this 1989 adaptation alongside Ian Holm (Lord of the Rings), Judi Dench (Skyfall), Brian Blessed (I, Claudius), and a pint sized Christian Bale (Newsies, people!). Brief flashbacks highlighting key moments from Henry IV Parts 1 and 2 also feature Robbie Coltrane (Harry Potter) as Falstaff while Derek Jacobi (Cadfael) is a modern dressed Chorus – an aware host introducing the stage, behind the camera magic, scenery changes, and onscreen map overlays. Firelight creates a realistic golden scheme matching the medieval robes as court sit downs and devil or angel courtiers sway the French claims. This H.V. is initially soft spoken but won't be mocked, and the woodwork set design aides the characterization as the austere fine patinas at court contrast the worn and shabby Boar's Head framing filled with fun. It is somewhat intrusive to insert Hal's banishment fireside at the tavern upon Falstaff's death when we're supposed to be on the way to Agincourt. However, this friendship lost later anchors the serious Pistol and Bardolph action amid internal revolts and blades at the throat. Henry's court is blue, young, and feisty while France is red and tired with a petulant dauphin compared to the bright sweetness of the French ladies' bemusing English lesson – even as Emma Thompson (Stranger Than Fiction) is obviously not French. These interiors are small, but vivid orange sieges, armored battles, and the horseback Harry rouses upon the breach with an exceptionally epic score from Patrick Doyle (Thor). Dirty, hands on threats and bittersweet executions escalate while the ill English army suffers, and the effortless iambic pace combines with gritty cinematic flair, emphasizing the rah rah despite hangings, tears, rain, and mud. This underdog tale knows when to take a stage action and run with the patriotism as well as when to stay quiet for a commoner versus king interchange. Soliloquies in the calm before the bloodshed are almost directly to the camera, drawing the audience within the moment to ponder the innocent consequences almost with a Jesus at Gethsemane humility against the over confident enemy. The gather round inspiration and on high cheers culminate with the St. Crispin fire and brimstone before superb sound design invokes the charging hoof beats as the camera stays on the fearful English faces standing their ground. Archers' volleys, clashing swords on horseback, bloody slow motion jabs, and slippery one on one combat create a lengthy, well choreographed battle. This story spends most of its time on the taking of France as so glorious – but all the death and youth sacrificed are for what really? The contemporary commentary stews in the quiet win as the dead are tallied, panning across the tired, sad victors and the bloodied children beside them. Stirring Latin laments swell while the camera humbly follows the living carrying the dead home. Granted the play's wooing finale seems odd after such onscreen epicness, but the official paperwork and marital ties seal the patriotic rebirth – which, ironically, we know is cut short. The Chorus gives us a fitting, 'but that is another story' close of the curtain, and although this is too long and bloody for the classroom, it remains a must see for Shakespeare fans and cinephiles alike.

Richard III – Annette Bening (American Beauty), Robert Downey Jr (Iron Man), Kristin Scott Thomas (The English Patient), Maggie Smith (Harry Potter), Jim Carter (Downton Abbey), and Dominic West (Centurion) join Ian McKellan (Mr. Holmes) for this 1995 fascist re-imagining of The Bard amid ticker tapes, radios, typewriters, telegraphs, tanks, and gas masks. Though recognizably thirties with swanky cars, cigarettes, jazz, and Art Deco glamour; there's an anachronistic surreal to the fedoras, furs, and noir silhouettes – as if the Imperial and aristocratic ways of footmen and tiaras continued into the jet set unchecked by The Great War or Abdication. This is still old speaketh, but the opening is silent before Richard takes over the microphone with his expected soliloquy – zooms on his mouth indicate double talk and duplicitous plots as he prims in the mirror before addressing the camera directly of his plans. Our disfigured Duke of Gloucester is suave with his thin mustache and decorated uniform but slightly unkempt, gassed, and mad when not putting on his crocodile tears. While the Nazi parallels are obvious, they are more Western gone SS The Man in the High Castle what ifs then actual German motifs. Richard's a Wolsey ear to the ground sowing seeds at Tower of London bunkers or with rooftop pigeons instead of on castle parapets, but the new dressage doesn't overtake the still stage-like one on one tension as each scene lays a piece of the brother against brother plot. Hired killers provide gangster style executions in the bloody bathtub and cracked spectacles in brown anonymous packages as proof of the deed done. The hangings grow darker alongside Richard's dictator glee despite opposing board room committees in their It Can't Happen Here disbelief. Dressing room preparations and laughter after the ruse works join public cheers over the boar's head laurel/fascist pigs logo – seeing the red gloved right hand but not knowing what the pocketed sinistre left is doing. Richard talks to us while he's watching the film reel of his coronation, seemingly letting the viewer in on the vanity. We don't like him but there's no getting off this armored train whether it goes too far or not. Tap to the king's tune and things are grand, but misstep and.... Fortunately, Richard also has to lie in the bed he made – with night sweats, regrets, and just do. Given our current administration and political climate, I'm probably looking at this differently then I would have two years ago. However, such reassessment proves how provocative Shakespeare still is even outfitted with machine guns, power stations, airplanes, and horses not there when you need them. Although the sound is uneven between soft voices and loud effects, this deserves several viewings for the visual symbolism and layered subtext – a complex parable within a tale of Billy quotes, the period piece commentary, and the pressure cooker of it all then and now. This weighted interpretation may be confusing for those new to the play, perhaps keeping the more medieval clear Olivier version as the introduction piece, but there's nothing wrong with this picture save a surprisingly elusive video release.

Hee, these are alphabetical, chronological, and in play order. Huzzah!

Early Hitchcock Round Up!

An Early Hitchcock Round Up!

By Kristin Battestella

Let's spend a stormy day nestled in with these early mysteries, spies, and thrillers from Mr. Suspense himself Alfred Hitchcock!

Murder! – The 1930 print is jumpy and sometimes tough to see, but the Beethoven overture adds to the eponymous screams in the night as a ridiculous amount of people talk over each other or point fingers while hysterical others pollute the crime scene. Town gossip on which actress didn't like the other adds to the messy as households high and low unite in shock or up turned noses. We get the facts second hand – a fireplace poker, bloody dresses, a brandy flask – and opinions on the case are mixed with common domestic scenery, wry British humor, and no Code wit. A man can't talk about the neighborhood crime until he puts his teeth in his mouth, and folks rush to dress as police knock, winking at the regular people in extreme circumstances and ordinary places with the scandalous behind closed doors. The back and forth kitchen settings create a stage-like design as prop doors, police questionings backstage, pantomime theatre, and cross dressing innuendo match the pomp and circumstance trials, wigs, and robes. The fanfare moves fast as jurors deliberate on our lady killer's well bred family, possible fugue state, or if hanging her is too barbarous. We don't know who the jury members are but can deduce much by their opinions – the pipe smoking alpha male, maternal older ladies, the cowering man fearful of prison, a sophisticated psychology woman, and the dirty old man who thinks a good looking actress should get a free pass. A woman's place in the home serving her man and men versus women aspects feel old fashioned, and there are still silent holdovers with onscreen cursive notes amid the low production values. The obligatory transition and exposition scenes feel roundabout and overlong, lagging with foolish old ladies and crying kids. Some twists are also obvious – regular folks have absurd access to evidence and the whole town has clues yet the police somehow dropped the ball. However, there are progressive undertones, too, with well edited jury room interplay as devil or angel on the shoulder camera cuts and layered voiceovers close in with intense zooms pressuring the lone holdout. The dames are decked out in serious hats, furs, and pearls for jury duty while men look in the mirror over their guilt or doubts with Wagner on the radio becoming a preliminary score. The case should be open and shut, but the court of public opinion lingers and arm chair investigators proceed on the whodunit to prove one's innocence. Such surprisingly modern spins and a fitting circus topper make this an interesting little study with pieces of Hitchcock to come and caper within a caper analysis.

Secret Agent – Madeleine Carroll (The Prisoner of Zenda), Peter Lorre (M), John Gielgud (Arthur), and Robert Young (Father Knows Best) star in this 1936 adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham's tales alongside Great War funerals, one armed soldiers, empty coffins, and a whiff of German Expressionism. Assumed names, false passports, and ominous figures in the doorway create an intimate one man mission amid distant bombs, nearing explosions, fake headlines, and big wartime scale. Hotel meetings, double agents, secret codes inside the chocolate wrapper – it's almost Bond before their was Bond with an opening twist and a debriefing from a man named “R” leading to glum church organs, candlelight signals, mysterious strangulations, flirtatious suitors, and button clues. Our charming novelist cum spy travels to exotic continental casinos with a thrill seeking doll in the bath and a whimsy to their marital farce. When she slaps him, he slaps her back! However, some of the prerequisite over the top humor for Lorre's Hairless Mexican General who's chasing “not only ladies” is unnecessary. His repeated long name and subtle sardonic are much better – he exasperates, “I have anxiety,” and when asked “Do you know any prayers?” he answers, “Don't insult me.” His killer hand should not be underestimated, but the touchy sidekick banter borders on bickering couple, and there's a ménage feeling with our spy trio when up close men whisper how they will be alone without the lady for hours. The women, by the way, are suave thirties glamorous even though it's 1916. Fortunately, the intense factories, train confrontations, and telegram intertitles with their translated codes remain unique. Telescope shots, howling dogs, and mountain photography add suspense with very little, as do later Hitchcock touches such as staircase motifs, reluctant heroes, fatal mistaken identities, and the wronged man on the run. One can tell Sir Alfred has outgrown some of the lower production values and is ready to move on to bigger Hollywood fare, but this precursor formula moves smoothly without underestimating the viewer. Who is the rival agent we're seeking? Have we met him already? Suspicions on who speaks German and understands it or not escalate into a tense finale despite mild obviousness and a slightly abrupt end. I'd almost like to see this redone with a proper budget – not a ridiculous spectacle, just a polished potboiler – but this fun cast and fine story are neat for anyone who likes to compare Hitchcock notes and spy thrillers. And wow, look at those telephone operators! 
 

The 39 Steps – Like Maugham's Ashenden stories, I wish there were more adaptations of the other Hannay books by John Buchan, not just numerous remakes stemming from this unfaithful but no less landmark 1935 picture with Robert Donat (Goodbye, Mr. Chips) joining our original icy blonde Carroll and all the Hitchcockian one can muster including the mistaken man, foreign intrigue, macguffin secrets, and budding romance. Cheeky dance halls host marriage jokes, brawls, chases, and gunshots with shadowed men in trench coats, pipes, and fedoras. Double decker buses, netted pillbox hats, stoles, and more period touches such as newspapers, lanterns, and milkmen contrast mysterious maps of Scotland, missing fingers, knives in the back, and a gal whose name depends on where she is and which country is the highest bidder. The mercenary espionage, air defense hush hush, and ticking clock is upfront in telling us what we need to know whilst also revealing a whole lot of eponymous nothing. Danger tops each scene thanks to suspicious phone booths, perilous bridges, and jealous husbands spotting those knowing glances across the dinner table during Grace. Police at the door and women both helpful or harmful compromise potentially rural calm – news travels fast and a spy must always be on the lookout. Whom do you trust when no one is who they seem? Lucky hymnal twists and false arrest turns escalate from one location to the next with ironic parades, impromptu speeches, cheering crowds, and charismatic escapes despite handcuffs, sheep, and romantic comedy tropes. Filming through doors, windows, and Art Deco lines accent the men in disguise, overheard rendezvous, and small hiking silhouettes against the pretty mountain peaks. Trains, airplanes, and rapid waters add speed to the pursuit. The superb cabin car photography and railroad scenery don't need the in your face action awesome of today, for chitchatting folks reading the daily news is tense enough for the man who's picture is beside the headlines. While some may find the look here rough around the edges or the plot points clichéd, many of our cinematic caper staples originate here. The full circle music, memories, and shootouts wink at the facade of it all, remaining impressive film making for the early sound era with great spy fun and adventure.

Your Call!

Alfred Hitchcock: Master of Suspense – This documentary looks old with dated graphics, sliding photo frames, and low quality movie clips. The dry narration takes time to get rolling with Hitchcock's early childhood, first studio work, and small art direction credits, yet the voiceover also often moves at double speed amid talk of The Lodger and Hitch hallmarks such as the innocent man on the run, macguffins, cameo appearances, and trick shot filming. Brief mentions on family life pepper the transition to talkies, and this spends a surprising amount of time – maybe too much time – on Hitchcock's lesser known pictures including Blackmail, The Skin Game, and Number 17 before detailing the 1934 The Man Who Knew to Much, The 39 Steps, and the controversial Sabotage. Strangely, the forties successes also skip around with The Lady Vanishes, Rebecca, Suspicion, or Cary Grant and Grace Kelly stardom between Lifeboat facts, studio freedom with Spellbound and Notorious, and the technical achievements of Rope. Likewise, the fifties are unevenly packed with Warner Bros and Paramount moves, Rear Window, To Catch a Thief, and Hitchcock's drool television heights. By time we get to the Vertigo innuendo, North by Northwest, Psycho, and The Birds, this overlong hour and forty minutes plus is practically over with little time for Marnie or any other reflection thanks to filler from Hitchcock's lengthy film trailer tours and random hosting moments from Alfred Hitchcock Presents. The narration never gives way to any other talking heads, only quoting “Hitchcock said” and other sources for a somewhat boring, amateur, one-sided book report mood. Rather than serious film study, this poorly paced generalizing of Hitchcock's techniques ironically makes it seem like he did nothing but make the same movie over and over again. Some out of place mentions are insignificant, other sentences are spoken too quickly while other topics linger too long and give away spectacular cinema moments. For hardcore fans, this will be nothing more than a chronological clip show, however such simplicity can be a good starting point for audiences new to Hitchcock – so long as you've seen the movies spoiled here.

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.

Julius Caesar (1970) vs Antony and Cleopatra (1972)

Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra A Curious but Entertaining Double Bill

by Kristin Battestella

“Friends, Romans, countrymen....” Count 'em once, twice – Charlton Heston plays Marc Antony in the 1970 adaptation of William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar as well as the 1972 follow up Antony and Cleopatra. While neither picture is perfect, together these films make for an elusive but pleasant duo providing full embellishment on two lesser filmed Bard works.

AIP's Julius Caesar lets slip the dogs of war with leftover armor and barren skeletons on the desolate battlefield while the opening narration informs viewers on the previous war with Spain. Despite trumpets and parades, the largely faithful two hours is slow to start with no subtitles on the bare bones DVD and unfortunately undynamic characters cramping this history's innate momentum and otherwise fine performances. This version just isn't as intense as it should be – the locations and design are beyond a merely videotaped play staging yet it's lacking some cinematic flair. Director Stuart Barge (also of the infamous 1965 Othello) doesn't have command of the picture's weight, and the pace sputters in going through the motions from act to act. Lengthy two man conversations may seem like a lot of iambic pentameter chit chat for only a few simple actions, but the testing the waters dialogue layers the treasonous whispers to tease this inevitable outcome. Who's on whose side? From the Ides of March to “Et tu, Brute?” famous quotes anchor this hotbed, perilous time and secreted assassination planning. A moody dream sequence montage with screams and bloody statues invokes more booming prophecy, and the simmering approach to the public stabbing scene ups the ante. Quick intercut editing mirrors each slice, peppering the murder with a chaotic, bloody, almost ritual horror eerie. More familiar speeches and shrewd revenge move fast in the second hour as ghostly fires and comeuppance arguments bring Julius Caesar round right for the falling on swords finale. I love this era of history and this play – Julius Caesar is among my top three Shakespeare works. This is Roman history as told by Elizabethans adapted in the seventies yet the intriguing aristocratic parallels linger today. Ever are there a small few who claim they are doing right for the majority by creating war and strife, amirite? 
 

With effortless presence and a classy command of the text, John Gielgud's (A Bafta winner for the 1953 Julius Caesar film as Cassius) Julius Caesar almost seems cramped by the close camera with little room to let his charisma fully blossom. The slightly fragile Caesar swoons as others dote upon his hem, yet he remains revered in his refusals to rule. His charm is disarming – this is a likable, nice guy with battlefield glory, so why are people out to get him? We keep hearing of his military might before the play and current whispers of potential power to come, and Gieglund's would be Vader of the piece anchors the audience. We're looking for a reason to go along with the conspirators, and Caesar's stubbornness soon makes its interference known as he ignores repeated warnings to mind his fate and put his ear to ground for what might be afoot. Caesar's arrogance subtly increases – he gets ahead of himself with his North Star assurance and is genuinely shocked at his favorites joining the plot against him. Did he deserve to be stabbed? Maybe not, but Caesar was wrong in not heeding such prophecies and the political climate. Of course, the character is killed in the opening of the third act, and the viewer's morale compass switches to Caesar's avenger Marc Antony. Now, Charlton Heston is not the spring chicken he was in the 1950 Julius Caesar production. I'm not sure about that zany red comb over hair nor the skimpy wrap tunic and that wearing his mama's curtains dress – Chuck looks like an overgrown cherub! Fortunately, his familiar, strong voice and firm delivery earn Marc Antony's worth once the backstabbing unfolds. We agree with him against these crazy plotters thanks to an emotional, shocking plea. Marc Antony's weeps for all the SPQR to see, rousing and endearing the common people more that both Caesar's late missteps and those knife wielding traitors. It's a twitter war at its finest, and Marc Antony's shrewd politics assures the public feels in the right. He goes for the visceral by showing the corpse as evidence and pointing out the limp reasoning and stupid execution of a plot the public didn't ask to have done in its name. Wow, Julius Caesar just becomes more and more contemporary, doesn't it?

Ironically, it's even easier to be on Marc Antony's side because Jason Robards (All the President's Men) as Brutus is surprisingly flat, dry, and mid century sword and sandal dull. This is not what this conflicted, at times cowardly, and always potentially juicy character deserves. Poor Robards feels like he is doing his dialogue phonetically, and poor direction certainly plays a part. Didn't anybody check the dailies? This Brutus isn't morally upset or pained, but slow to draw his own conclusion and too wishy washy one way or the other. Richard Johnson's (The Amorous Adventures of Moll Flanders) far better command of the plot and performance at hand makes one wonder why Cassius is trying to recruit him at all, and gasp, this Julius Caesar could have excised Brutus and been better for it. Cassius' strong arm arguments are so smooth you don't know you are being so pressed, and his true color revelations put an exclamation – er sword point on Julius Caesar. Diana Rigg (The Avengers) as Portia also adds a moment a tender uplift to Brutus with wisdom, grace, and strength behind the man. Can the rest of her Shakespeare cred become available on video please? The trouble with Julius Caesar is that there are several critical but quite small roles that can't be combined or eliminated – especially when you can cast a great name for the clout or much needed financing. While Robards struggles, Robert Vaughn's (The Magnificent Seven) slick Casca proves it's not an American issue with Billy in Julius Caesar, and the late great Christopher Lee has some hefty proclamations, if only for a mad moment. Why couldn't he have been Brutus? Richard Chamberlain (The Thorn Birds) is also almost an irrelevant afterthought as Octavius, though the character obviously plays a more substantial part in Antony and Cleopatra.

Julius Caesar remains a bit obscure perhaps because up until recently, there hasn't really been a quality video release. Though shrewd in avoiding a big entry spectacle and taking care of the opening titles at the same time, the widescreen credits look cropped or zoomed in and blurry. We can, however, still spot some apparently under dressed slave boob shots, FYI. Unfortunately, the rest of the picture remains a flat, cut and scan fullscreen, leaving a congested feeling despite relatively few up close shots. Move the camera back please and show more of the colorful togas, statues, and crowded plazas. The ancient wares and graffiti add much needed Roman spirit while columns and stonework anchor the slightly small scale sets and seemingly simple Shakespearean stage dressings. Our villainous stabbers all seem to be dark, bearded, or greasy haired – perhaps not the best visual but the distinctions help the audience recognize these crazed assassins. Storms and lightning create mood to match the waxing on fate and stars, and although this Julius Caesar is lacking in panache, it's pleasing to see such focus on the flawed people and empire-shaping twists instead of some dated seventies spectacle. The sweeping music by Michael J. Lewis (Theater of Blood) is reserved for choice soliloquy crescendos, and the green outdoors, golden helmets, and horse action accent the partings well made. Like Julius Caesar, the 1972 Antony and Cleopatra was filmed in Spain complete with bonus Egyptian gold and orange motifs alongside crisp blue waters, ancient pirate ships, and red centurion capes. Be it the Roman villa or the Nile, viewers immediately recognize where a scene takes place, making Antony and Cleopatra feel more colorful, lavish, and cinematic compared to Julius Caesar's congested interiors and forum drab. A making of half hour on the DVD featuring Fraser Clarke Heston provides more behind the scenes details, and hey, subtitles! Save for a full Egyptian finale, Cleopatra and her entourage are also dressed in more Greco-Roman fashions – a historically debatable or artistic choice perhaps. However, the sea battle footage reused from Ben-Hur is too obvious despite the montage overlays and film trickery. The seaside establishing shots are enough alongside the close quarters barge battles. Smoke, fire, sword slices, and hacked, bloody limbs do far better than this cheesy whiff of1959 re-glory.

Then again, I was the obnoxious sophomore who couldn't understand why we weren't reading Antony and Cleopatra after just studying Julius Caesar. They go together, people! Several years later the best friend and lover of the deceased go to battle with his heir and die for love – today Hollywood can't make up this kind of epic franchising fast enough. Heston not only stars in this picking up where Octavius left off but also directed and adapted the smooth Elizabethan delivery and wouldn't know it was Shakespeare casual old speaketh, which in itself says something about the much more effortless performances under this actor's director compared to Julius Caesar. Roman rivals, pirates sweeping the Mediterranean, lovers chillaxing – Antony and Cleopatra sets the busy scene with Egypt versus Rome parallels as Marc Antony's dawdling with Cleopatra leaves the triumvirate ruling Rome perilously imbalanced. Some coming and going scenes or to and fro messengers, however, feel redundant, sagging the lengthy two and a half hour runtime. We've just seen what is being told, and such transitions could have been trimmed in favor of combining or lengthening the titular tug and pull. Antony and Cleopatra is structured as if the separate locations could be staged side by side, darkening or illumining each empire as needed. Unfortunately, that back and forth is uneven in the first half of the film when our duo spends more time apart – Antony and Cleopatra are actually separated for more time onscreen then they are together. Marc Antony hearing Cleopatra's quotes in his head while he's in Rome or listening to the asides of others do better in invoking the spirit of the stage. Likewise, the Soothsayer almost mystically appears in both places, linking the isolated fates in an almost self-aware breaking the fourth wall before some surreal penance and the epic action finale. The final forty minutes of battles betrayed and cavalry action raise the stakes as these would be titans of Egypt and Rome realize their fall with fine, if fatal soliloquies. Antony and Cleopatra is a little messy, but that is the nature of their reality show trainwreck relationship. This battle of the sexes, love/hate war, and who is using whom scandal can shakedown any number of ways, and this Antony and Cleopatra throws in some gladiator practice for good measure, complete with a thumbs up from Octavius, because, of course.

Well then, Chuck's Marc Antony looks a little older with whitish blonde hair for Antony and Cleopatra – but he's still going around in some kind of nude thong thing. Heston looks much better in armor atop his horse in full Shakespearean command, but Marc Antony is angry that strife in Rome interferes with his new, alluring roost with Cleopatra. He doesn't care about his late wife's campaign against Octavius, but reluctantly returns to Rome to claim his family's wars were not his own. So much for partying in Egypt when marrying another gal adds to your troubles! The drunken scenes are a little off, and although Heston knows where the direction of Julius Caesar went wrong, perhaps he's not so good at directing himself when playing this kind of blinded by lust character. However, I do wish he would have directed more, albeit without himself as star or with another collaborator on the script. This cast does well thanks to his performance first expertise, and Marc Antony's conflicts, soliloquies, and final scenes give Heston room to just act. Although Cleopatra may have a quick, lying under Marc Antony introduction, Hildegarde Neil (A Touch of Class) has a firm voice to convey Cleopatra's anger as well as a solid hold on The Bard's dialogue. Initially, more time is spent on Cleopatra's la di da handmaidens and gay in both senses of the word henchmen while the queen's passionate pleas echo over Marc Antony's angst. Some of this humor is too lighthearted hippie and misses the mark, but it also parallels the fluid sex and cross dressing of the Elizabethan stage. Cleopatra is a tough figure to portray, and Neil superbly makes the character and debated historical figure a person – a young, naive, smitten and insecure ruler in love. Cleopatra is not just some kind of exotic habit everyone insists Marc Antony quit, for the viewer sees her plain before the mirror jealousy as well as her full pharaonic regalia. She's violent and at times equal in a role reversed sexual power play with Marc Antony as each tries to gain the upper hand whether it is good for either's country or not. Neil doesn't look super young next to Heston, either, and in the final twenty minutes she holds her own alone with strength in mourning and grace in defeat.

Eric Porter (The Forsyte Saga) as Marc Antony's consul Enobarbus also knows the right things to say and do as this peacemaker between such two big egos. He's weathering their lust, hoping they will just get this love/hate thing out of their system. Unfortunately, Enobarbus can't take the pull of Antony with Egypt against his own loyalty to Rome. The character may not seem super important between the eponymous rulers, however this is a relatable, tragic figure encapsulating how the common people and simple soldiers are the victims caught in the middle as the big wigs play their capture the flag war games. By contrast, John Castle's (I,Claudius) Octavius is a sassy little fellow, even a downright brat. His slick and selfish ways should make him a good politician, but Octavius is too much of a jerk. One can't help but look back and wonder if Rome was better off in Caesar's hands compared to him – but of course history would prove differently for the villainous victor here. Although Roger Delgado's (Doctor Who) Soothsayer may be more medieval in style than Roman for Antony and Cleopatra, that's okay. Audiences expect a whiff of the supernatural and some ironic author winks from Bill. Again, there are even more recognizable but perhaps superfluous secondary players in Antony and Cleopatra, with Julian Glover (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade) as the go between messenger Proculeius filling the toga and Freddie Jones (Emmerdale) as Pompey putting on his best argh! for only a few somewhat unnecessary scenes. Some lines are already moved in the otherwise faithful adaptation, so why not go for broke with an extreme cinematic splice? This Antony and Cleopatra could have excised all the extra speaking parts that do nothing but delay the snowball toward the fatal confrontations viewers want to see. Gasp, this film could have gotten by with even half the cast, but heck, we'll keep the elemental Marc Antony, Cleopatra, Octavius, Enobarbus, and the mystical Soothsayer for good measure. Tee hee.

It's tough to find both Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra. Varying streaming options and Netflix rentals expire or very long wait, but the 1970 Julius Caesar feels a little forgotten compared to the 1953 Marlon Brando adaptation of Shakespeare's deadly Roman hotbed – which, call me crazy, is not a favorite of mine. Yes, there are design flaws and miscasting consequences here, but there's plenty of good with several scenes more palpable for the Roman or Shakespearean classroom. Such out of control egos and historical parallels are ripe for millennial audiences, too. The players in Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra had the world at their grasp, and nobody knew what the heck they wanted – a lesson not learned in 44 B.C., 1623, or 2016. Although Julius Caesar is an oft read story capable of surviving any film wrongs and there have been a few Et tu adaptations, I'm still waiting for the definitive Julius Caesar Shakespeare film. Okay, putting the Iambic pentameter into Latin with English subtitles would be too much to ask. Betraying Bill by putting these two plays together and cutting the flak for an intense sword jabbing cinema escapade is probably wishful thinking, too – but hey, paging director Kenneth Branagh and star Tom Hiddleston! With Julius Caesar's open ending and such hefty history to follow, Antony and Cleopatra rightly completes our innate what happens next needs. One can't leave the fate of Rome up in the air like that, and The Bard gives us the tough, often unclassifiable, and bitter conclusion to match.