|
This film
version of William Shakespeare’s oft-overlooked first tragedy
is a glorious mess. Titus,
based on the Bard’s Titus Andronicus, is an audacious,
frantic jumble of images cobbled together like a music video,
and the result is a bit like The Fifth Element – a
highly enjoyable picture that seems way too over-the-top for its
own good. But Element
had the common sense to wrap things up around the two-hour mark,
while the meatier Titus keeps you in the theatre for
another thirty-plus minutes.
Titus
opens with one of the year’s more amazing scenes.
The film begins with a child playing with plastic action
figures in his kitchen. The boy, who has a paper bag over his head, proceeds to pick
a food fight with his toys as the room explodes and a strange
man bursts in to transport the boy to ancient Rome.
It seemed more suited to a scene from Terry Gilliam’s Time
Bandits than a Shakespeare film, but that’s just the point
– this isn’t your typical Shakespeare film.
Once
transported, the boy watches as Roman soldiers return home from
battle with the Goths. The
scene is amazingly choreographed, as the soldiers march into the
center of town caked with mud that makes them look like statues. It’s probably fifteen minutes before any dialogue is spoken
– and it’s taken verbatim from Shakespeare’s play.
If you find it hard to follow, don’t let it scare you
off. It will begin
to make sense, and the ending alone is worth a sore ass.
Titus
Andronicus (Anthony Hopkins, Instinct) is the general of
the Roman Army, and the country expects the warrior to fill the
position of Emperor upon his return.
Titus declines and throws his support to the son of the
previous ruler, Saturninus (Alan Cumming, the voice of the Devil
in God, The Devil and Bob), over his brother and rival
Bassianus (James Frain, Reindeer Games).
Saturninus’ first duty is to choose a wife, and he
picks Bassianus’ fiancée Lavinia (Laura Fraser, Cousin
Bette), who refuses to marry the new Emperor.
For a second choice, Saturninus drafts Tamora (Jessica
Lange, Cousin Bette), the former Queen of the recently
defeated Goths, as his concubine.
Tamora,
whose eldest son Alarbus was sacrificed to the Romans, is
hell-bent on revenge and eagerly accepts the role of Empress.
She brings along her black lover Aaron the Moor (Harry J.
Lennix, Get on the Bus) and two wicked sons, Demetrius
(Matthew Rhys) and Chiron (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, Ride With
the Devil). The
sons are both after Lavinia, while Aaron has schemes of his own
cooking. The boy,
who we learn is the son of Titus’ son Lucious (Peter Gabriel
lookalike Angus MacFadyen, Cradle Will Rock), watches
things develop as sort of a surrogate audience.
Writer/director
Julie Taymor, who recently directed the award-winning Broadway
hit The Lion King, has her actors deliver their
soliloquies directly into the camera, using extreme close-ups.
But that’s far from the only unique stamp Taymor puts
on Titus. Like
the recent adaptation of Richard III with Sir Ian
MacKellen, this film has its way with time.
One moment, it’s Caesar’s Rome and the next it’s
World War II Italy. The film also features some very modern sounding music, and
many of the characters sport tattoos.
And, Lord, is this film gruesome!
But despite all of the gore, the more gruesome scenes are
strongly implied, instead of being shown on the screen.
As good as
the acting is in Titus (Hopkins’ role seems like a
warm-up for his next turn as Hannibal Lecter), the real stars
are the art/production/costume designers.
Taymor’s crew features a bevy of Oscar winners and
nominees that have worked on films like Kundun, Dune,
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, Chariots of Fire
and Barry Lyndon. Sadly,
only Milena Canonero was recognized by the Oscars for her
incredible costumes. I
would have given her the trophy from the first scene alone.
Titus
is the second major accomplishment from a stage-turned-film
director this year, after Sam Mendes’ (The Blue Room)
critically acclaimed American Beauty.
What would make such successful stage stars run for the
hills of Beverly? I
did hear that Kathie Lee was on Broadway.
2:42
-
for graphic violence, nudity, implied rape and, well, just about
everything except adult language
|