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Critical Jim--The Hit Man |
In an article for the New York Times ("Writers on Writing," March 29, 1999) fellow ReadersRoom columnist Ed McBain wrote: "My good friend Otto Penzler, mystery connoisseur par excellence, insists that if any book, movie, play or poem has any sort of crime central to the plot, it is perforce a crime story. This would make Hamlet a crime story. Macbeth, too. In fact, this would make William Shakespeare the greatest crime writer of all time."
Ignoring Mr. McBain's astute assessment would be nothing less than criminal. Like murder, treachery, ghosts? You'll find plenty of each in these adaptations of Macbeth and King Lear. First, though, a word about, "the greatest crime writer of all time."
The Bard of Avon
Of all the practitioners of English literature, none has weathered the passing of centuries better than William Shakespeare. A quick trip to the Internet Movie Database reveals more than five-hundred-thirty productions and adaptations of his plays and biographies about him that have been made for movies and television since 1899.
What makes the Bard, who wrote many of his plays more than four-hundred years ago, relevant to our modern age? Simply put, no one, before or since, has delved so deeply and accurately into the human psyche with as much literary range--histories, comedies, tragedies, sonnets and longer, narrative poems -- or with as great a command of the language, as William Shakespeare. From A Comedy of Errors, perhaps his earliest play, to The Two Noble Kinsmen, probably his last, readings or viewings of his works always seem to reveal some trait of human nature not perceived in previous encounters. What set Shakespeare apart from other writers of his time? Where did his insights come from? May as well ask where genius comes from. We do not know. Only the facts of his life have survived to help us draw conclusions.
Shakespeare's birth date is widely agreed to be April 23, 1564. Although no record of the date exists, church papers show his baptism was performed on April 26, 1564. It is generally agreed that his birth was three days earlier on April 23. Coincidentally and conveniently April 23 marks the exact day of his passing fifty-two years later. His father, John Shakespeare, was a crafter and merchant of leather goods and farm products and was a prosperous resident of Stratford-upon-Avon, where William was born. John was active in local politics, serving as town councilman, constable, chamberlain, alderman, and high baliff -- the equivalent of mayor. William's mother, Mary, was the daughter of Richard Arden, head of another prosperous family from nearby Wilmcote.
Although Shakespeare's life is better documented than other dramatists of his day, there is still much about him that is subject to conjecture. It is assumed that his father's prominence in the community ensured William's attendance at the local petty school (elementary school) and then the grammar school (high school). It is also assumed he attended until he was fourteen, which was standard practice in his day.
It isn't known what Shakespeare did once his education was completed. Some speculate that he taught school, the position secured by his father's place in the community. It is known, though, that he married Anne Hathaway, the daughter of a local farmer, in 1582. Anne was twenty-six, eight years older than her new husband. Seven months later, their first child, Susanna, was baptized. Two years after that the couple gave birth to twins -- Hamnet and Judith.
Between 1585 and 1592, a period often referred to as "the lost years," virtually no records exist to give insight about what Shakespeare was doing. What is known is that he left Stratford and moved to London. By 1592, he was an established playwright. He was so popular that an envious fellow-dramatist of the time, Robert Greene, called him "an upstart crow." His first works to be printed were poems: Venus and Adonis was published in 1593 and The Rape of Lucrece the following year. Shakespeare dedicated both to the Earl of Southampton, his patron and a favorite courtier of Queen Elizabeth the First.
In 1594, Shakespeare and others formed a new theater company under the patronage of the Lord Chamberlain. The Bard was its regular playwright for nearly twenty years and averaged about two new plays each year. His success made him wealthy and enabled him to purchase various properties in his hometown of Stratford, where he'd maintained close ties.
In 1599, the Lord Chamberlain's Men built a new theater, the Globe. The prosperous Shakespeare became one of the theater's shareholders, rare for a playwright of his time.
In 1603, James I ascended to the British throne. He granted patronage to Shakespeare's acting company, which was renamed the King's Men. Performances of his plays graced the royal courts, and the Globe and Blackfriars theaters (Blackfriars was purchased by the King's Men in 1609).
Shakespeare seems to have retired from the London theater scene around 1611. After that, he spent most of his time in Stratford. In March 1616, he made out his final will, curiously bequeathing to his wife, Anne, his "second best bed." A month later, he passed away and was buried in the Holy Trinity Church in Stratford.
The poet Ezra Pound said that genius, "...is the capacity to see ten things where the ordinary man sees one, and where the man of talent sees two or three, plus the ability to register that multiple perception in the material of his art." No practitioner of the written word has ever deserved the label "genius" more than has William Shakespeare.
Ran
(1985)
Based on the play, The Tragedy of King Lear, by William Shakespeare
Screenplay: Masato Ide, Akira Kurosawa, Hideo Oguni
Director: Akira Kurosawa
Cast: Tatsuya Nakadai: Lord Hidetora Ichimonji; Daisuke Ryu: Saburo Ichimonji; Akira Terao: Taro Ichimonji; Jinpachi Nezu: Jiro Ichimonji; Mieko Harada: Lady Kaede; Hisashi Igawa: Lady Sue; Masayuki Yui: Tango Hirayama; Peter: Kyoami, the Fool; Hisashi Igawa: Lord Kurogane; Takeshi Nomura: Tsuramura
Everyone remembers that King Lear gave away his money, his power, and his love and paid dearly for it. But, there's much more. Here's the rest of the story:
Old King Lear, weary of ruling, decides to abdicate and divide his kingdom among his three daughters. Each will get a share, but before they do, each must tell him how much she loves him and do so before the entire court. Goneril and Regan, his two oldest daughters, flatter him and are awarded the third and second prizes. Lear's favorite, Cordelia, only says she loves him according to her bond, "nor more, nor less." Lear is outraged; he expected more. He banishes Cordelia from his kingdom. The loyal Earl of Kent is also banished for taking Cordelia's side.
Lear divides what would have been Cordelia's prize between Goneril and Regan. It is agreed that he will split his time between each daughter. The King of France, who has been courting Cordelia, understands her fidelity toward her father and admires her honesty. They marry.
The Earl of Gloucester's illegitimate son, Edmund, plans to usurp his father's title. He tells him that Edgar, his legitimate son, is going to kill him. Then, he convinces Edgar to flee by telling him that their father wants him dead. Edgar leaves and disguises himself as a beggar.
Edmund becomes a courtier to Goneril and her husband, the Duke of Albany. Presently, Lear is staying at Albany's castle. Kent shows up in disguise and, unrecognized, is taken on as one of Lear's servants. The noise and rowdy behavior of Lear's entourage upsets Goneril and Albany. Lear is furious when Goneril criticizes him. He leaves to stay with Regan and her husband, the Duke of Cornwall.
Goneril and Regan use Edmund as a messenger. Neither sister knows the other has designs on him. When the French invade England in Lear's behalf, Edmund accuses his father, Gloucester, of being a traitor for trying to get him to side with the French.
Lear falls into despair because of his daughters' treatment. He deeply regrets disowning Cordelia. At the height of a great storm, he goes mad. Gloucester finds Lear and his jester--the one remaining member of his entourage--and gives them shelter in a nearby hut. There they meet Gloucester's son, Edgar. Gloucester seeks Kent's help to get Lear and the fool to the coast. That is where Cordelia and the French army have landed.
Edgar finds his father wandering, blind, outside the hut. Cornwall had gouged out Gloucester's eyes for assisting Lear. A horrified servant, in turn, killed Cornwall. His widow, Lear's daughter, Regan, rules the kingdom with her lover, Edgar's brother, Edmund.
Edgar, without revealing his identity, takes Gloucester to Cordelia's camp on the coast. There Gloucester meets the mad Lear. Goneril's servant, Oswald, finds Gloucester and attacks him. Edgar saves his father and kills Oswald. Albany's army attacks the French forces and during the battle Edgar reveals his identity to his father. He tells him of Edmund's scheme. Knowing his legitimate son loves him, Gloucester dies happy.
Albany's forces, led by Edmund, defeat Cordelia's French and Lear and Cordelia are captured. Goneril poisons Regan in a jealous rage over Edmund. Edgar, disguised as a loyal knight, challenges Edmund to a duel and mortally wounds him. Goneril, realizing the situation has become hopeless, takes her own life.
The dying Edmund confesses his misdeeds to Edgar but is too late to save Cordelia from hanging. Lear despairs as he carries his daughter's limp body from the gallows. He also learns that his jester was hanged. Deeply in despair from the events that have taken from him everything he valued, Lear dies.
Albany asks Kent and Edgar to help restore peace. Kent declines saying, "I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls me, I must not say no." Albany and Edgar are left to reunite the kingdom.
The Movie
Among the countries that have adapted Shakespeare's work to better suit their own cultures is Japan. Few directors have been better able to bring the right touch of drama, insight and savvy to the task than Akira Kurosawa, whom many consider to be the finest director ever to grace the silver screen with a well-told tale. Arguably, he should be a solid choice on any short list of great directors. His films have received worldwide acclaim; many have been adapted and remade in other countries. In the United States, Rashomon and Shichinin no Samurai became The Outrage and The Magnificent Seven, both runaway hits and influential films of their time.
So, which movie does the greatest director of all time consider his finest? From a career spanning fifty-two years and thirty-two films, Kurosawa gave Ran (pronounced Ron) that singular honor.
Ran takes Shakespeare's tale of a great man brought low by his own poor judgement, and finds a new interpretation in a medieval samurai clan. Set in the mountainous desert region of northern Japan, Ran incorporates everything you could want--and more--from a movie that tells an epic story. Vast and rugged landscapes form a perfect backdrop for the presentation of eternal themes. Titanic battles, beautifully choreographed, illustrate the violence stemming from Lord Hidetora's (the Lear character) decision. All of the characters have immensely strong personas with depths of base emotion not far from the surface. Kurosawa's use of music--emphasizing haunting strings and flute--complements the expansive desert background and enhances the feeling that we are witnessing a story of universal proportions.
Most importantly, Ran has an intelligent script, one that reflects Kurosawa's intention to expand Shakespeare's play by adding a theme of his own. Added to Lear's story of poor judgment, swollen ego, and unexpected treachery is the motive of revenge. The wives of Lord Hidetora's sons, Lady Kaede and Lady Sue, are the booty from the wars of his battle-laden, younger days when he consolidated power. Hidetora murdered their families and occupied or burned their palaces.
These ladies crave revenge. This need has a different effect on each. Lady Sue succumbs to deep sorrow from her loss of her family and position and tries to turn it into forgiveness of Hidetora; she knows this is a situation in which she's powerless. Lady Kaede is the more aggressive of the two. She has been making plans to bring down Hidetora's clan, the Ichimonji's, and the kingdom it has taken him a lifetime to put together.
Kurosawa also removed the parallel father-offspring story of Gloucester and his sons, Edgar and Edmund. For the purists, those who at least want the characters to match the Bard's, Kurosawa's story works without them. His use of revenge takes the story in a direction where the Gloucesters would have a hard time following without adding a few more wrinkles to an already complex plot. The film and its themes remain epic and timeless without the Gloucesters.
Ran's cast is impressively talented. The players are all capable of displaying the range needed to do justice to their complex characters. Subtitles will supply you with dialogue, but the actors' nonverbal expressions and postures make clear the direction any scene is taking.
In a film of finely crafted scenes, the intimidation and seduction of Lord Jiro stands out to validate the direction the story takes. Lady Kaede, wife of oldest brother Taro, knows Jiro killed her husband to gain the entire kingdom for himself. That doesn't bother her; it's just one less Ichimonji to worry about. She attacks Jiro with a knife and threatens his life, but not for revenge for her husband's murder. She tells Jiro she wants to rule the kingdom with him. He is relieved she is sparing his life and is ready to grant her anything. When she kisses him, he gives in completely, even agreeing to murder his own wife, Lady Sue to make room for Lady Kaede. Mieko Harada, playing Lady Kaede, conveys an astounding range of emotion: deference, iciness, calculating coolness, rage and fury in a matter of moments. The intimacy and intensity of her acting makes this scene one of the most remarkable and intense ever to be put on film.
Ran is a movie on a grand scale. It reminds you why movies are made and how good they can be. Everything is big: the battle scenes, the landscapes, the characters' personas, the historical sweep, the message. But, it's not the bigness that puts this movie firmly among the greats. Ran is there because it explores its themes in an intelligent, entertaining, and visually beautiful manner. It is a harsh morality play for the twentieth and twenty-first centuries--an investigation of how a lack of ethics, morals, and judgment can tear society apart.
Scotland, PA.
(2001)
Based on the play, The Tragedy of Macbeth, by William Shakespeare
Screenplay: Billy Morrissette
Director: Billy Morrissette
Cast: James LeGros: Joe McBeth; Maura Tierney: Pat McBeth; Christopher Walken: Lieutenant McDuff; James Rebhorn: Norm Duncan; Kevin Corrigan; Anthony Banconi; Thomas Guiry: Malcolm Duncan; Amy Smart: Hippie #1; Timothy "Speed" Levitch: Hippie #2; Andy Dick: Hippie #3
The story of Macbeth is similar to Lear in that it tells of a powerful man brought down by bad judgment--his own. In case you've forgotten, here's the rest of the story:
As Macbeth and his fellow general, Banquo, are returning from battle, they happen upon three witches who tell Macbeth he will become King of Scotland. Banquo, they say, will not be king but will beget rulers. With that in mind, and with his recent battle victories, Macbeth expects to be named next in the line of succession by King Duncan. He is stunned when Duncan elevates his son, Malcolm, instead. Macbeth wonders what he can do to help the witches' prophecy along.
His wife, Lady Macbeth, hears about the witches and, unlike her husband, is not hesitant. She and Macbeth scheme to kill the king when he visits them that very night.
While King Duncan sleeps, they carry out their plan. Lady Macbeth drugs some wine and brings it to the king's guards. When they fall unconscious, Macbeth steals their knives to frame them, then kills them and the king. Lady Macbeth leaves the daggers by the king's body, staining herself with blood in the act. Another nobleman, Macduff, visits the castle to see the king. Together, Macbeth and Macduff "discover" the slain Duncan.
Duncan's sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, learn the news and flee, fearing the nobles will blame them for their father's murder. Their fears are well grounded. Macduff meets with the nobles and they conclude that Duncan's sons bribed the guards to kill the king. The nobles declare Macbeth King of Scotland.
Macbeth hasn't forgotten the witches' prophesy and worries that Banquo's heirs will overthrow him. He hires thugs to kill Banquo and his son, Fleance. Banquo is murdered, but Fleance escapes.
At the coronation dinner, Macbeth sees Banquo's ghost, causing him to exhibit odd behavior. His wife cuts short the celebration. He visits the witches for further guidance. They answer his questions by telling him to beware Macduff. Banquo's ghost returns and shows Macbeth his eight future offspring. Racked by guilt Macbeth descends into madness.
Macduff goes to England to convince Malcolm to join forces with him and the other nobles. With mighty armies rallying against Macbeth, Lady Macbeth despairs that her husband, now considered a traitor, is finished. Suffering from guilt, she takes her own life. As he readies himself for battle, Macbeth learns that his wife has killed herself. The battle soon rages. Macbeth and Macduff pair off against each other. Macduff kills Macbeth and crowns former King Duncan's son, Malcolm, King of Scotland.
The Movie
No easy task to transform a complex, medieval, political thriller into a fast-food melodrama set in the mid-1970's. Writer/director Billy Morrissette has made the most of a creative setting in which to place a Shakespeare tragedy. Of course, a few accommodations were necessary to make the conversion mesh. The two most noticeable changes are: moving the setting from medieval Scotland to twentieth century Pennsylvania and, making the prize Norm Duncan's restaurant instead of King Duncan's Scotland.
Less noticeable is the subtle change of Shakespeare's theme from unbridled ambition--the pursuit of power--to unbridled greed--the pursuit of wealth. This modern McBeth (the "a" is omitted from this modern spelling)--his name is Joe--is not into politics, he's after Duncan's restaurant.
To fit it all together, Morrissette had to alter some of the traditional roles: Macduff and the nobles are now Detective McDuff; the king's framed guards become Andy, a framed homeless man. Other roles are created: at headquarters McDuff talks to dispatcher Ed, a dim bulb of a policeman who worries more about improper etiquette than solving cases. There are other, minor, changes. None, though, alters the sense of the original tragedy or stands in the way of enjoying this movie.
Morrissette has even managed to include Macbeth's witches in the form of three hippies. They are more than hippies, though--their leader speaks in a strange, otherworldly voice and has the ability to foretell events. In doing this, Morrissette injects an element of the supernatural that seems incongruous for the time and place of his retelling, but it enables him to keep faith with the subtext Shakespeare planted in his play: Don't mess with powers you don't understand; their motives may be very different than your own.
In addition to a tight, well-paced script, one that is faithful to the spirit of the Bard, if not the details, Morrissette threw in a host of darkly comedic elements to lighten the load for his contemporary audience--the McBeth's friend who repeatedly, but unsuccessfully, hits on Pat McBeth; Banco, carried into the house after the hunting trip when Joe was supposed to kill him, is drunk, not dead; Norm Duncan pitching face forward into the deep fryer after taking a hard right to the chin--to point out a few. While much of the comedy is situational, a goodly share is imparted by the cast, which has a chance to ham it up, but the smarts and discipline to not overdo it.
Two performances in particular stand out. James Rebhorn (if you don't know the name, you will recognize the face) adeptly mugs for the camera as clueless father and overzealous business magnate, Norm Duncan. Rebhorn knows exactly how to walk that fine line between character and caricature and, in Scotland, PA, he nails it dead center!
The show, though, belongs to Christopher Walken. His vegetarian detective, Lieutenant McDuff, comes to life squarely between a mock-dumb Columbo and a cynical Kojak. He delivers his lines with precision, uncannily timing his pauses just long enough to produce maximum effectiveness. His patented twitches, eye wanderings and vocal manipulations are fun to see and to listen to no matter what movie he's in. And, yet, like Rebhorn, his character never becomes a caricature; he's a believable detective. A wonderful performance.
The other performances are good all around. James LeGros and Maura Tierney, as the McBeths, are able, as the plot unfolds, to believably convert their characters from a frisky and fun-loving young couple to insanely melancholic, manic-depressive pair of dysfunctional criminals. Duncan's older son, Malcolm, is played by Tom Guiry. At first, Guiry seems too young and too small to play Duncan's avenging son, Malcolm. But, Guiry injects his character with enough spunk to carry the role.
A final word, and this about the music. Billy Morrissette wanted a rock score appropriate to the mid-seventies, and he picked out some fine songs by the Marshall Tucker Band, Janis Ian, Three Dog Night, and others. But, the bulk of the score belongs to one of the baddest bands of that decade--Bad Company. Their songs, "Ready for Love," "Shooting Star," "Rock Steady," and others, aptly complement the grisly proceedings as the story unfolds. The band's music flows seamlessly through the scenes, giving the impression they wrote the score just for this movie. Morrissette couldn't have chosen better.
All in all, a most enjoyable updating of a Shakespeare classic.
Do you have comments about Jim's reviews? He'd love to hear from you. Contact him at:
ReadersRoom2@aol.com
Copyright 2004 by ReadersRoom, LLC. All rights reserved.
