Nor does he give his talented ensemble-which also includes Ian Holm as an impish Polonius, Helena Bonham-Carter as a dour Ophelia and Trevor Peacock as a rustic Gravedigger-any unique governing rhythm or interpretation. And, yet, unlike his earlier Shakespeares, Zeffirelli hasn’t come up here with a dazzling visual concept. One almost gets the feeling that bankability was the casting key, that more plausible choices, like Daniel Day Lewis or Kenneth Branagh (who called “Hamlet” the play he most wanted to film after “Henry V”) were locked out. And Gibson, despite any amused expectations you might have is not bad either. Like all Zeffirelli pictures, it’s exquisitely designed, by Dante Ferretti, and lushly photographed, by David Watkin. Deprived of Zeffirelli’s usual, high-spirited flourish and flamboyance, his deliciously overdressed sets and rococo clutter, this “Hamlet”-swallowed up in chilly panoramas, dark castles and sonorous verse-reading-sometimes seems cold and spiritless. As Mel Gibson plays him, Shakespeare’s Hamlet, a Gloom-and-Doom Dane, is an Elizabethan Lethal Weapon whipped on by vicious hatred of his licentious stepfather, giggly Claudius (Alan Bates), flayed by ambiguous yearnings for his statuesque blonde mother, ice-queen Gertrude (Glenn Close).įranco Zeffirelli’s new “Hamlet”(AMC Century 14)-his first Shakespearean movie since his triumphantly gaudy 19 versions of “The Taming of the Shrew” and “Romeo and Juliet”-isn’t exactly campy. And whenever he looks at his parents, he becomes an Oedipal wreck. His hair is blond, his chin is stubbled, his eyes are wild.
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