Magic Dour
William Shakespeare is a gift that truly keeps on giving. The number of different adaptations, retellings, re-imaginings and modernizations of the seemingly countless tales he has thrust into the world is in an endless supply. Among the current slate of nominees, Kenneth Branagh is probably my favorite, as he always manages to balance the line between capturing the spirit of Shakespeare’s time while also infusing a modern soul into his projects. In terms of Julie Taymor, for me, she falls severely behind. However, I saw potential in this project. Although, that potential was mainly because this particular source material was the inspiration for one of my favorite science-fiction films Forbidden Planet. That film is an exciting and intelligent classic. This, suffice it to say, is not.
Helen Mirren stars as Prospera (changed from Prospero, a male in the play), a sorceress whose rightful role as the Duke, or Duchess in this case, of Milan is usurped by her dubious brother Antonio (Chris Cooper). Deserted to an island, she plots revenge on her family while also trying to return her daughter to the rightful place in the kingdom. She wrecks the ship, stranding Antonio and the King of Naples (David Strathairn) on one end of the island and the king’s son on another, where a romance between him and Prospera’s daughter blossoms. There’s also room for a slave (Djimon Honsou) who is falsely taken in by a couple of fools (Alfred Molina, Russell Brand) and a spirit servant (Ben Whishaw) wistfully going in and out of the story to serve his master Prospera with the promise of eventual freedom.
I confess that I have not read Shakespeare’s original source material, but I have to say that Taymor has crafted one of the worst adaptations I’ve ever seen, at least from a screenwriting standpoint. Scene after scene indulges on ridiculous monologues that are incredibly dull and creates a stand still in the pace. There’s more scenes of expository dialogue here than in Inception, and everytime it lets the air out of this film. At the same time, Taymor’s direction still maintains that wildly flamboyant style that is still better suited to the stage. I would say that the film is not as visually obnoxious as something like Across the Universe, but it doesn’t have half the charm of Jim Sturgess belting out a Beatles tune. Her eye is quite unique, but it only goes so far when the story is lacking, particularly when it reaches what feels like an anti-climax and a drawn out ending.
Mirren tries her best to hold this thing together, and there are times when she actually gives some humanity to her character. However, she seems to disappear halfway through the film and becomes an uninteresting character. The two young leads feel the most inexperienced, feeling like they’re reading the Shakespearean dialogue via off-screen cue cards. Hounsou wildly overracts, Molina and Brand are mismatched beyond belief and competent veterans like Cooper and Strathairn get outacted by Alan Cumming. Whishaw actually has some nice moments in the film, even genuinely tender in some places, but he’s saddled with a character that is not very interesting.
I respect Taymor’s vision as a creative person, and the success of her efforts for Broadway’s Lion King is a testament to how that vision can succeed in a certain kind of arena. However, I have still never figured out why her persistence as a filmmaker has maintained. She tries to pull all these wildly different tones together, but it’s mostly a failure. Sandy Powell’s unique costumes are interesting to look at, and hubby Elliot Goldenthal’s ambitious score provides some pleasure in some places, but that’s hardly enough to recommend a film that is shallow in the story and character department. Mr. Branagh, I call upon you to rescue me. Wait, you’re busy doing Thor? Oh, well...good luck with that.
C
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