Branagh has, in recent years, made a practice of mounting lavish
productions of Shakespeare's works on film - and in an effort to make
the final product more palatable to Americans audiences, he offers
several pivotal roles in each production to a handful of deserving
actors from the US. Like greedy children offered the contents of a candy
store, they devour this rare opportunity, for as we all know, there's
nothing like Shakespeare to validate one's career as an actor. Some
actors have managed extremely well - Denzel Washington in Much Ado About Nothing, for example, and I suppose Billy Crystal as the gravedigger in Hamlet
wasn't too bad - but as production follows production, his efforts to
choose actors in hopes of appealing to the broadest common denominator
become more obvious and ill-advised. Alicia Silverstone as The Princess
of France, Matt Lillard as Longueville, Nathan Lane as Costard - teenage
boys and girls, horror film fans, Disney fans! You can almost see
Branagh crossing focus groups off a list.
And they aren't bad, precisely. There's a certain awkwardness in their
delivery, but thanks to Branagh's lavish cuts, they never speak for
long, except for one well-done section, which I will return to later.
Their main crime is that of obviousness. To enjoy Shakespeare,
it's almost better to be ignorant of the identity of the actors. Am I
the only one who thought Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love was
simply playing herself with a British accent? Gwyneth modelling a series
of lovely Renaissance dresses, pretending to be an English lady? She
was too big to be believable, and not good enough as an actress to
transcend her own celebrity and hype.
But I digress. The point is that Alicia Silverstone and Matt Lillard
are too tainted with celebrity and modernity to be believable in such a
piece. Nathan Lane is actually pretty good. So the American actors go
through their parts at top speed (have you noticed that Branagh adores
having actors arrive in a scene at a run, possibly dressing or
accessorizing as they dash in, all breathless... it gives such a sense
of realism to the scene, don't you think? Ay, the first
time I saw it. After about 4 productions the trick becomes obvious,
especially when he employs it several times in the same film.) As I was
saying before I was distracted, they "go through their parts at top
speed," hoping their deficiencies in presentation will not be as evident
if they whizz by us. Perhaps this is why the film clocked in at 90+
minutes.
We all raise a collective eyebrow here. Would someone please explain to
me how, on God's green earth, could a Shakespeare play be reduced to an
hour and a half and still be called Shakespeare? The cuts are so
numerous, so Jack-the-Ripper-esque in their totality - the internal
organs of the poor victim lie beside the gutted body. Um, that's a bit
gross. Ok, it's like a pretty new dollhouse - beautifully detailed,
nicely furnished - but there's no-one in it. Nary a doll. Nah, I like my
Jack the Ripper analogy better.
Where was I? Oh, the play's been cut. A lot. And, to complete the
confusion, many popular songs of the Gershwins and Cole Porter have been
slotted in. The actors sing and dance. Adequately. But, why oh why?
It's as though Branagh has lost all faith in Shakespeare; and as the
self proclaimed producer of Shakespeare on film for our generation, he's
determined to get a piece that no-one else would do (there's a reason
why I've never even had the opportunity to see a production of it) and
to keep up the current mode of modern settings such as Ian McKellan's Richard III, Baz Luhrman's Romeo + Juliet (emphasize the Plus, it's what makes it cool!) and Ethan Hawke's Hamlet (which doesn't even deserve to be mentioned, it's so hideous) he's grabbed desperately at the idea of turning Love's Labor's Lost
into a musical set in an ersatz WWII era Europe a la Hollywood. I must
credit Branagh on his efforts to make the characters clear and the plot
(such as it is) discernable. The old-fashioned Movietone newsreels he
created have a charming air of authenticity about them, and as the
newsreels are done entirely in modern English, anyone who might have
gotten lost in what remains of Shakespeare's language is set straight.
Also, Branagh has kindly color-coordinated the 4 couples in red, orange,
green and blue (as director/producer/actor, he chose the blue for
himself and Natasha McElhone; it matches his eyes), just in case anyone
was getting lost.
As I mentioned earlier, they sing and dance adequately, But that's not
good enough. Yes, actors can be coached and skillfully choreographed to
look good in a dance number, and I don't doubt some of them have had
some dance training in their past. But dance professionals have a
stillness, a nuance that amateurs can't duplicate - there's a shakiness
to amateur dance. It reminds me of Circus of the Stars - yes that's
Bernie Koppels from The Love Boat up there on that trapeze - but you
know he just wasn't meant to be there. And most of these actors just
can't pull off song and dance with the kind of skill that makes you want to watch them. Any voice can be processed in a studio to be on pitch and sound good, so there's no point belaboring that.
I think I'm almost done, so I'll return to the good part I mentioned
before. After a highly confusing mishmash of songs, dance, feeble comedy
and occasional speeches which make no real impression on the audience,
circumstances force the 4 couples apart. In an almost miraculously
intact series of farewells, all of these actors get a few moments to
show that they do understand the language, and that they are credible
actors. I was actually moved by the scenes between Alessandro Nivola as
the King of Navarre and Silverstone as the Princess of France; likewise
the scene between Branagh and McElhone. It was almost infuriating that
these actors were denied the opportunity to really shine in a
Shakespeare production, and instead were only offered this slipshod mess
of a piece.
