The 'very cunning of the scene': Kenneth Branagh's 'Hamlet'
1997; Salisbury University; Volume: 25; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês
ISSN
0090-4260
Autores Tópico(s)Shakespeare, Adaptation, and Literary Criticism
ResumoOn 21 January 1997, Kenneth Branagh's film version of Hamlet received its United Kingdom premiere at the newly opened Waterfront Hall in Belfast. It was an important event, as the audience was able to appreciate Branagh's four-hour realization of Shakespeare's play in a spectacular chrome and glass environment, a manifestation of the prosperity that has come to Belfast in the wake of the peace process. But the occasion also provided an opportunity to reflect upon the achievement of this extraordinary actor and director. If, in Britain, Branagh has been maligned for his populist readings of Shakespeare, film critics in the United States have praised him for his reworking of Renaissance theatrical traditions and acute cinematic intelligence. 1 In this essay, I will discuss the numerous virtues and isolated infelicities of Branagh's Hamlet in an attempt to discriminate between these judgments. While paying close attention to the film's textual sensitivity, I will also concentrate upon the cunning (or art) of its scene (or representational devices). I Perhaps the most impressive element of the film is Branagh's performance as Hamlet, played in such a way as to bring out the multiple dimensions of a tortured psyche. Thus, from a grieving son lurking in the shadows at the start, Branagh moves to an explosive man of action in the later scenes, a knowing impersonator of madness and a theatrically dynamic presence. While Branagh clearly points up a personality-based and romantic reading of Shakespeare's play, the film is arguably more obviously dominated by its political resonances. For this Hamlet constructs Denmark as a militaristic state. Already in the opening scenes, there are glimpses of preparations for war; Hamlet strides through an arsenal on his way to encounter the ghost; and displays of fencing practice punctuate the narrative, foreshadowing the catastrophic conclusion. It is to Branagh's credit that he has restored to Hamlet its military subtexts, and the film does not hesitate to demonstrate the extent to which Denmark's power is dependent upon the cooperation of a gallery of soldierly underlings-Rosencrantz (Timothy Spall) and Guildenstern (Reece Dinsdale) wear regimental sashes; guards invade Ophelia's chamber; and the grave digger (Billy Crystal) arranges skulls side-by-side with all the precision of a campaigning general. Nor is this merely an extraneous interpretation. The play abounds in marital rhetoric, as when Claudius enjoins the kettle to the trumpet speak/The trumpet to the cannoneer without,/The cannons to the heavens (V.ii.272-74). Branagh takes his cue from the specific orientation of Shakespeare's text in a persuasive reconsideration of the material bases upon which Elsinore's preeminence is founded. It is part of the versatility of the film's representational scheme that Branagh also develops the Fortinbras sub-plot, which is so often omitted from modern productions. Frequent use is made of parallel montage whereby the scene cuts between unfolding wrangles at Elsinore and the relentless advances of Fortinbras's army. At one point, newspaper headlines are deployed to highlight the threat of the Norwegian commander, played with an icy implacability by Rufus Sewell. As the film progresses, it would seem as if there is every justification for the nervousness of the sentry who patrols the castle's gates. The cunning of the film's representational devices can be apprehended no less forcibly in set design and staging procedures. Joel Fineman's work on fratricide and cuckoldry has established the importance of Hamlet's doubling structures and assessment and mirrored arrangements. Branagh's Hamlet fits well with this assessment, since its interior scenes take place in a state hall lined with windows and mirrored doors. In such a setting, Hamlet is forced to confront reflections of himself, such as Claudius (Derek Jacobi), who, with his blonde hair and clipped beard, bears an uncanny resemblance to Branagh's Dane. …
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