Ay-MEN.
I am waiting for "the next Kenneth Branagh" to displace this one. Shouting every line of dialogue whilst clambering o'er the scenery is not intensity, insight, passion, or intelligence.
His directing was choppy, gimmicky, and overly dramatic. Ophelia lying in the middle of the floor all bound up and shorn? What, was she supposed to have been lowered there by a crane? Julie Christie sounded as though she was reading her lines off the back of an envelope. Hey, I know! Let's get a real comic familiar to play Osric! Someone who'll make faces so clownish that they belong in some Dr. Seuss movie.
It's some sort of blasphemy, but I think Mel Gibson's and Ethan Hawke's Hamlets were better.
Laurence Olivier brought great insights. His melancholy Hamlet wandering around the castle to William Walton's score is a touching figure. The performance he got out of Basil Sydney as Claudius opened my eyes to a proud, stiff figure who actually treasured his ill-gotten gains and broke in a moment of high tragedy when he realized he was losing them.
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Think cynical thoughts.
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