Hamlet

Kenneth Branagh, UK/USA 1996, 240 minutes

Recently, the bard appears to have regained popularity with several adaptations of his works hitting our screens. Kenneth Branagh takes yet another slant and delivers the full monty, amounting to a four hour epic full of famous actors making a brief appearance before exiting, stage right.

Branagh has a proven record with Shakespeare. Henry V gave us grit and Much Ado About Nothing brought soliloquies to the masses. This certainly helps Branagh here both as actor and director. This is the first 70mm film to be shot in Britain since David Lean was a filmmaker and no expense is spared to fully utilise the extra definition and clarity. You can see each individual artificial snowflake float down and each bleached hair on Branagh's head. The interiors are absolutely gorgeous and you marvel at the use of props to ensure the camera crew don't get reflected in the many mirrors. The great hall in the castle is very reminiscent of a stage with action going on in many parts and at different levels. Full use is made of doors as a dramatic device and in effect the set becomes an extra character.

So far so good. Unfortunately, Hamlet has its flaws. In assembling such a stellar cast there are, inevitably, some duds. Jack Lemmon is hopelessly out of his depth and I'm not sure why Ken Dodd makes an appearance. But the casting of Billy Crystal is inspired and being able to use Dickie Attenborough for a walkon part is audacious and quite fitting. Many of the stars are guilty of overplaying at one point or another and the film often teeters on the brink of Dynasty style melodrama. Luckily, all the major roles are well filled. Derek Jacobi, in particular, is chilling as the murderous Claudius and Charlton Heston is suitably grand as the Player King. Branagh himself, as Hamlet, is so alive with energy that you realise that it's not just his hair that's glowing.

One thing worth noticing whilst watching Hamlet is the speed at which many of the characters must speak, simply to capture the entire play in under four hours; the first hour and a half is one long Le Mans of unbroken conversation. In the end though, it doesn't really matter. As with the very different Romeo + Juliet, the strange sentences soon become familiar and, dare I say it, you don't notice the length of the film. In a way, this is just as much Shakespeare for the boom-andbang generation of filmgoers as Luhrmann's effort, though this is for the wiser soul who has brought along a cushion.

Review by Neil Chue Hong
Taken from EUFS Programme 1997-98