Ruf's part in this is small and if you blink you'll miss it, so don't buy it just for his performance - buy it because it is a masterpiece!!

pattirose-

One of the first things to consider when undertaking to view Kenneth Branaghs Hamlet is that the film is just over four hours long. But not to worry as in truth it does not feel a moment beyond six. Pretentious opulence is filled with over-acting, under-acting, arm flailing, running madly about, endless scenes of walking and many many loving caresses from the camera of Mr. Branaghs knotted brow. Sadly in all this swirling activity it’s easy to lose track of the tale as Shakespeare actually penned it. Equally sad, the swirl of activity can’t masque one of the pictures greatest flaws which is the endlessly slow tempo. It does, however, explain how a stage play, long at three hours suddenly becomes a film that is over four. Imagine if you will, every actor languishing lovingly in their scenes as long as they see fit and you have the tempo of this Hamlet. But it looks great. 

It is a testament to Mr. Branaghs status at the time that so many brilliant British stage actors were willing to accept the tiniest of roles in his production and so many American film actors were willing to look ridiculous. It’s also a testament to his status that someone actually gave him the money to create his tome. One imagines the pitch going something like, “But it’s KB, man, KB. He’ll come up with a way to make it fun. The audience will eat it up! We’ll be selling the kids Hamlet dolls at Christmas… every kid will want black boots, black trousers and a human skull for Halloween. We’ll make a fortune on the blonde wigs and goatees…” The result is one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies turned into a carnival ride for the sake of vanity? box office? complete lack of vision?  Who can guess? It chills one to the bone to watch Charlton Heston emote over Judi Dench’s performace—like a car crash viewed in slow motion that one is unable to turn from. Every small role becomes, not as it should, another step in Hamlet’s journey but rather a cameo for some unskilled film actor to mug it up for the camera while the audience plays “guess who is next”. It’s as if Mr. Branagh is trying to convince us that anyone can do Shakespeare, rather I would suggest that perhaps he consider abandoning the pursuit if this film is any example of his vision. But it looks great. 

The symbolism is heavy handed and over-wrought and like everything else in this picture, overdone. The setting is a mystery—presumably Mr. Branagh did not want his audience to be too upset by the murder, intrigue, invasions and insanity so he decided to cheer the story up with a bit of music and playful whimsy with the holiday feel of the thing. Any moment, one expects the Nutcracker to come dancing onto the scene followed by all of the good little children. Is the message that black things lurk under pretty façades… my goodness, how clever! 

And there is no where near enough Fortinbras. Rufus gives one of the only reasonable and weighted performances in this piece and looks oh so scrumptious. It makes one long to see more of him in this role. And actually you may, as his Marke in Tristan + Isolde is a more mature version of the same character if not in spirit, at least in emotional tone. He may not want to play kings, but no one does it better.  

This film could be the poster child for what continues to ail Hollywood today—too much money and not enough sense.

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