FREE ESSAY ON WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S ROMEO + JULIET

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S ROMEO + JULIET

The children of two warring families fall in love with tragic consequences for all
concerned. Shakespeare's play has been
subject to several adaptations in the centuries since its first appearance, including
movement to other media (painting, music).
But in the twentieth century there have been three which have surpassed adaptation and
significantly reformulated it for their
media: Sergei Prokofiev's 1935 ballet, the 1957 Laurents / Sondheim / Bernstein / Robbins
Broadway stage musical West
Side Story and this film. Though there have been countless other film versions, including
interesting and stimulating updates and
adaptations like Zeffirelli's controversial 1968 rendition, Abel Ferrera's China Girl,
and the 1961 film version of West Side
Story, none have told the tale so vividly as film.
It's not merely that the setting has been changed to a slightly futuristic Verona Beach,
California and that guns have been
substituted for rapiers. Though this helps to make the story more immediate to a
contemporary audience, it is likely to seem as
quaint in thirty years time as the stereotypes and caricatures in West Side Story do
today. But over and above the surface
excitations of a trendy rock score and sexy young stars is a beautifully crafted film
which embraces the spirit and the letter of
the text without surrendering to stage convention. It is as cinematic as Citizen Kane,
and while the words are equally important
(as they were in Kane), they are not all that it is.
This film communicates the passions and emotions of its characters in a series of
beautifully mounted sequences which roughly
coincide with their stage originators but assume a unique and vividly changeable
cinematic character in a way a stage version
never could. From the John Wooesque shoot out which begins the film to the surreality of
the Capulet ball to the operatic
death of Mercutio to the baroque finale in a neon and candelit church, it never stops
merely to present the dialogue for the
dialogue's sake even though it retains the Elizabethan tongue. In this way the original
text is unharmed but perfectly
comprehensible. The images tell the story, and the dialogue complements and enlarges
them. Aided then by a suitable rock and
pop score and by the trappings of the contemporary setting, the film uniquely
communicates the spirit of the age in which it was
made, but equally tells its tale in a manner which speaks to its audience.
One of its strengths is that most people won't even need to think of it in terms of a
great work of cinema. It simply works. It is
possible to enjoy the magic without worrying about sleight of hand. Thus casual audiences
can derive as much pleasure from it
as cineastes, possibly more. The performances are uniformly good, from its young stars to
more experienced supporting
players like Miriam Margoyles, Brian Dennehy and Paul Sorvino (John Leguizmo is
particularly flamboyant Tybalt). It is fast
moving and energetic to a fault, and bolstered by its flawless translation to
contemporary America. It is far an away one of the
most enjoyable films of recent years, and its box office success attests to its ability
to perform simply on the level of popular
entertainment.
Of course it is not without precedents (by definition, being postmodern). Among them are
two primary strands; the recent rash
of 'faithful' adaptations of classic novels bearing the name of the original author in
the title such as Bram Stoker's Dracula and
Mary Shelley's Frankenstein (neither of which was particularly faithful in the final
analysis), and some ambitious restaging of
Shakespeare both in theatre and film including Richard III and Hamlet Goes Business. This
dichotomy (or is it a dialectic?)
between the nominally literal and the at least partially abstract is the essence of the
postmodern text, and can produce
cowardly non-committal works. But William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet is blessedly
bereft of irony, allowing the strength
of the parable to be as effective for a contemporary audience as it was upon its original
production, and is more likely to
produce discussion among its viewers about the tragedy itself than the merits or demerits
of its manifestation.
Although in one sense this return to innocence thesis is a form of denial, and indeed the
film relies heavily upon the intersecting
codes of postmodern existence for its pace and rhythm, it is perhaps more true a work of
art than many which evince the same
style. It does not demand pointless reverence to outmoded conventions, but neither does
it deny meaning in human interaction.
The romance and agony of the characters is real. All cinema is artifice, but that does
not mean that it needs to be fake and
cheap. William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet is a postmodern spectacle produced in the era
of Martin Scorsese's Cape
Fear and Francis Ford Coppola's Bram Stoker's Dracula, but is nonetheless and integral
and essential work of art capable of
purging the soul and raising the mind out of the passive morass of knowing self
indulgence which constitutes much of its ilk.
You can feel with it, and not be ashamed. It is a sensitive tale told to a desensitised
world. Like the blinded Montagues and
Capulets, the postmodern audience are unable to see what is pure though eyes full of
preconceptions. Only love can break
though, and whatever it seems to do to the eyes and ears on the level of affect, this
film restores to postmodern cinema its
heart.