A few years ago, while teaching Hamlet in a literature-based composition
course at the University of Alabama, I spent an afternoon watching the Olivier and Gibson
versions back to back. It was, to say the least, an enlightening experience; having
one film fresh in my mind made me much more aware of even the subtle differences between
the two productions, and made me much more sensitive to the intricacies of the text.
About four days later, I saw the Branagh film, and again the skein of the play and
the characters became more complex.
Hamlet is the siren song of acting; incredibly dangerous, yet all but impossible
to resist. Early in his career Richard Burton upstaged Olivier at a party with a
spellbinding performance of the "To be, or not to be" soliloquy--in Gaellic. Mel
Gibson tried to reclaim his status as a serious actor by endeavoring the role. Hell, even
Keanu Reeves tried it (in the words of one reviewer, "The best that can be said of
Reeves' performance is that he got all the words in the right order." Ow. I suppose
we should be grateful he didn't say "To be or not to be, dude." (Just now,
an image of Alicia Silverstone (in her Clueless guise) as Ophelia opposite
Keanu popped into my head. I may be ill.)). Particularly in the wake of
Branagh's film of the complete text, it's somehow appropriate to start off this site with
a discussion of some of the different representations of the melancholy Dane.
Don't despair; I won't be discussing Keanu.
What I will discuss is 3-4 scenes and/or characters and examine the presentation in the
different versions: What ideas get emphasized, what falls into the background? The bottom
line, I suppose, is what works, and what doesn't work? And, of course, the real
question, WHY? What effects do directorial choices have on how the story plays out?
The versions under discussion are:
- Laurence Olivier (1948)--For better or for worse, it is still considered by many
the "definitive" version . . . whatever that means.
- Derek Jacobi (BBC 1980)--A touch on the Freudian side, but Jacobi has a more instinctive
feel for the role than any of the others. I suspect that it had a fair amount
of influence on Branagh. Besides, you get to see Patrick Stewart with hair.
- Mel Gibson (1990)--A surprisingly strong movie; Gibson doesn't show a great deal of
range, but a strong supporting cast (highlighted by Paul Scofield's Ghost) compensates.
- Kenneth Branagh (1996)--Despite its flaws, Branagh's film (though not necessarily his
performance) supplants Olivier at the top of the heap--though the four-hour length will
probably preclude its being a classroom favorite.
I would have liked to have included the Hamlets of Nicol Williamson and Kevin Kline,
but space, time, and availability all conspire against me.
For those you you who would like a quick reference to the text, just bamf over to the The Hamlet Homepage. You'll find
the complete text as well as a wealth of other useful information. We'll wait for
you.
I have done my best to keep my specific references to the various movies as
accurate as possible; nevertheless, there may be some inaccuracies, particularly with the
Branagh film, as I was only able to see it once. I have a copy of Branagh's
screenplay, but I have used it primarily as reference.
The reader will probably be able to discern my preferences through the discussions, but
just in case, here's a capsule summary of sorts:
- Olivier: When you get right down to it, I simply cannot see what all the
fuss is about. The film has some strong scenes, but all too often Olivier's staging
fails to make a successful transition from the stage (c.f. Olivier's film of his staging
of Othello, which frequently borders on the laughable). Its reputation comes
more from its having been made than anything else, I suspect. Ultimately, a very
reductive production. I must admit that as a longtime fan of horror movies, I was
delighted to see Peter Cushing turn in a wonderfully comic turn as Osric.
- Gibson: Mel only has three basic emotions here: angry, sad, and
happy. There's not a lot of variation within each, and he doesn't move from one to
another very adroitly; it's as though someone has thrown the appropriate switch.
Nevertheless, the movie works fairly well, for two key reasons:
- The movie has a wonderful supporting cast.
Whatever flaws there are in Gibson's performance, there is a vitality
and essential likability in Gibson's Hamlet altogether absent from Olivier's.
- Jacobi: Although of the four, I consider Branagh's to be the best film,
I consider Jacobi to be the best Hamlet. There's a youthful vulnerability
there that plays well off of Stewart's worldly confidence. And if you ever wondered
where Branagh got the idea for that skull mask . . .
- Branagh: Yes it has its flaws. Yes, Jack Lemmon is terrible, and
Robin Williams abominable. At the same time, there is so much that is right about
this film. The complete text offers a wealth of subtleties that Branagh exploits to
the full.
I recently picked up the soundtrack, and I urge you to run out and buy it. This may
well be Patrick Doyle's finest score to date. It is not quite as blatantly
programmatic as his other scores (you know, you hear two bars of music and automatically
know that we're at Falstaff's deathbed, or that Derek Jacobi has just murmured "O!
For a muse of fire," or that the French generals are standing in the mud
wondering why they're getting the shit kicked out of them . . .), but that subtlety makes
the score even more effective; there are three basic themes--Hamlet (duh!), Ophelia, and
Claudius--which are synthesized in different balances throughout. And "In
Pace," performed by Placido Domingo, takes the breath away. Crank up the bass
and hear how Doyle counterpoints a sweepingly romantic melody with an ominous low (LOW (I
mean LOW!!)) bass line. This score makes the third time (IMO) that
Doyle has been utterly hosed by the Oscar voters.
In addition, Branagh's screenplay is also highly recommended. The stage directions
offer a glimpse into Branagh's vision of the play, and a film diary by Russell Jackson
(Shakespearean scholar and textual specialist for all of Branagh's Shakespeare films)
offers an all-too-brief look at the herculean efforts needed to realize Branagh's dream.
The film itself is now available on video for rental only; as far as I know, no release
date has been set for a retail version.
Here are some additional links that might be of use: