When you think "1990s" and "Shakespeare adaptation," the first film that probably comes to mind is Baz Luhrmann's flashy, bullet-riddled Romeo
+ Juliet, which reimagined the Capulets and Montagues as pistol-packing SoCal gangsters warring on Verona Beach and tooling around town in
low-riders. The attempt was to bring Shakespeare to the masses, to couch the Bard's complex verse in easy-to-understand modern imagery. Purists
and scholars cried foul—they doth protest too much, says I—but the film was massively popular, thanks largely to the casting of doe-eyed cutie
Leonardo DiCaprio as the eponymous Romeo, which sent teen girls to theaters in hormonal, hyperventilating droves. Three years prior, Belfast-born
actor/director Kenneth Branagh—whose 1989 version of Henry V positioned him as the rightful heir to Laurence Olivier—took a different tact
with the comedy Much Ado About Nothing, a more traditional adaptation that nevertheless did strong box office business and won a good deal
of critical praise. While not as daring, controversial, and—therefore—talked about as Baz Luhrmann's decade-defining film, Much Ado About
Nothing is lighthearted, romantic, and genuinely funny.
The men of "Much Ado."
It's one of Shakespeare's most well known innuendos: the "nothing" in Much Ado's title signifies the, shall we say, unoccupied
space between a woman's legs, so we know from the outset we're in for a fierce battle of the genders, where much is made of the power of sex as a
motivating force. The film gets off to a cheeky start—literally. Picnicking on a hillside in the Tuscan sun, Governor Leonato (Richard Briars), his
winsome daughter Hero (a young Kate Beckinsale), his outspoken niece Beatrice (Emma Thompson), and their many, many attendants spy Don
Pedro (Denzel Washington) and his noblemen approaching on horseback, fresh from a victorious battle. This throws everyone into excitement, and
by excitement I mean bath time—you gotta get clean before you go a'courtin', right? Branagh gives us a bare-assed "girl's locker room"
style scene straight out of a less seedy, more joyous Porky's film, a sequence teachers will undoubtedly fast forward through when the film
gets shown in junior high English classes. (A quick aside: I think the first time I ever saw breasts in a movie was during a 7th grade showing of
Zeffirelli's Romeo and Juliet. God bless my teacher, who clearly wasn't paying attention.) When Don Pedro arrives, he's accompanied by
Claudio (Robert Sean Leonard), a starry-eyed youth who quickly falls for Hero, and prideful, marriage-hating Benedick (Kenneth Branagh), a self-
professed "tyrant" to the fairer sex who immediately engages Beatrice in a witty game of verbal, insult-serving ping-pong. The two pairs of potential
lovers will obviously end up married by the film's end—that's just how it always plays out in Shakespearean comedies—but what treacherous villainy,
you ask, will conspire against them in the meantime?
The answer, surprisingly, is Keanu Reeves, miscast as Don John, Don Pedro's sulky, wet blanket of a half-brother, who has an unspoken crush on
Hero and generally wants to piss on everybody's parade because he never gets his way. As in Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula, Reeves just
doesn't seem to belong here; he's too stiff, too vacant, too American. Thankfully, he only shows up periodically to glower and storm away in a huff.
Reeves isn't the only divisive casting decision. Dogberry, a bumbling, seemingly drunk constable who speaks in rambling malapropisms, is played by
fellow Yank Michael Keaton, sporting the world's worst comb-over, which he frequently slicks down with a palmful of spit. Some have criticized
Keaton for basically doing a Renaissance spin on his Beetlejuice character, but I think he's quite funny, supplying a few of the film's biggest
laughs. And while Denzel Washington would initially seem like an unlikely choice for Don Pedro, the Glory actor's natural warmth and aura
of everyman charm translates into a performance that's free of the coldness that sometimes affects actors playing nobility. The film is ruled, though,
by Branagh and Emma Thompson, whose shared scenes crackle with chemistry as they sling invectives and try to mask how hot and bothered they
are. Beatrice comes from a long line of strong female roles in Shakespeare, and Thompson—very much a strong woman in real life—gives her a
perfectly nervy audacity. Benedick struggles just to keep up. ("I would my horse had the speed of your tongue," he says, with just a hint of
bawdiness.) In their characters—so resistant to one another at first—we're reminded that Shakespeare is, for better or worse, the progenitor of the
modern day rom-com.
The plot turns in a series of practical jokes and double crosses, and it wouldn't be a Shakespeare play if there weren't at least one incidence of
mistaken identity. Through a clever hoax, Don John convinces the newly engaged Claudio that his fiancé Hero is a "rotten orange" who "knows the
heat of a luxurious bed"—in other words, that she's a total slut—and this prompts Claudio to flip out at their wedding, publicly shaming his
devastated would-be bride. Meanwhile, Don Pedro—ever the matchmaker—tricks Benedick into thinking that Beatrice loves him, while Ursala,
Beatrice's gentlewoman, plays the same ruse on her. We get the feeling that sixteenth century courtship was complicated, a minefield of
hidden intentions, social expectations, and sexual urges that could only be slaked in the marriage bed. As a director, Branagh navigates this territory
with comedic ease. He abridges much of the dialogue and makes some mild adjustments to the story—for the sake of brevity and pacing—but for the
most part, his Much Ado About Nothing is true to source. Better yet, this isn't dull, dreary, community theater Shakespeare, performed with
all the vigor of a wilted flower; the film is energetic, fun, and flirty. There are no modern additions to the plot or setting, but Branagh's adaptation
seems primed for the enjoyment of contemporary audiences, who might not warm to Shakespeare otherwise.
Some of MGM's recent catalog re-releases have been visually disappointing—with transfers sourced from outdated masters—but I have no major issues
with Much Ado About Nothing's 1080p/AVC encode, which generally looks strong. The print shows a few white specks and minor scratches here
and there, and there are moments of unexplained softness—sometimes switching between clear and slightly blurry within a single scene—but grain is
mostly natural-looking and edge enhancement, while visible on occasion, never rises to the level of a distraction. For the most part, the picture displays
appreciable high definition clarity, pulling detail out of the intricate period costuming, the fine textures of the actors' faces, and the individual whiskers of
Kenneth Branagh's perfectly groomed, Just For Men-style beard. While certain hues can seem just a hair "hot" at times—lightly oversaturated,
like the too-pink skin tones—color balance is better than acceptable and there's a pleasing warmth to the Tuscan sun-drenched image. Likewise, black
levels are adequately dense and contrast is neither too pushed nor flat. That is, just right. Finally, compression noise is kept to a minimum, and there are
no overt banding, blocking, or aliasing issues.
While some may have wished for a full-on multi-channel presentation, I have no qualms with Much Ado's DTS 2.0 stereo track,
which competently handles the film's limited sonic requirements. Well, there is one cause for complaint: Both the disc's menu and the back of
the Blu-ray case claim that the film features a lossless DTS-HD Master Audio track, when, in fact, this simply isn't true. How much better would the
film sound with a lossless mix? That's debatable. It would probably be a hair brighter, cleaner, and fuller, but I don't think most viewers/listeners will be
able to tell the difference. It's a shame Fox wouldn't just automatically use a DTS-HD Master Audio Track, but I wouldn't get too hung up over it. This is a
low-key film, audio wise, and the included mix sounds just fine. This being Shakespeare and all, you can expect the emphasis to remain firmly on the
sharp, rapid-fire dialogue. The voices are clear and intelligible in the mix throughout—no crackles, hisses, drop-outs, or muffling—but if you want to catch
all the nuance of what's being said, the disc's many subtitle options will certainly come in handy. Patrick Doyle's orchestral score accompanies the story's
changing moods well, and although the music can come across a bit brash in the high end, it's never shrill or tinny. This is a rather unremarkable mix,
not because it's flawed, but literally—there's not much to say about it. Where it counts though—clean, easy on the ears dialogue—you won't be
disappointed.
I'd love to hear a commentary by Branagh, but alas, we'll have to make do with a short Making Ado About Nothing featurette (SD, 6:05), which
includes the usual assortment of talking head soundbytes and behind the scenes footage. The disc also includes a 1080p theatrical trailer, clocking in at
2:29.
Following in Sir Laurence's oversized footsteps—and somehow filling them—Kenneth Branagh has become the actor/director to bring
Shakespeare to a contemporary audience. His take on Much Ado About Nothing is breezy, enjoyable, and can be appreciate by English Lit majors
and rom-com connoisseurs alike. Aside from a few specks and minor scratches, the film looks great on Blu-ray as well, so I wouldn't hesitate to pick this
one up if you're interested. Recommended!
