An aggressive and intense adaptation of an obscure William Shakespeare
play, Coriolanus (2011), is actor Ralph Fiennes’ directorial debut, and—aside from
Shakespeare buffs, the film’s most obvious potential fanbase—is best for, interestingly
enough, science fiction and/or war movie fans.
By “updating” the play, having the costumes and sets be contemporary—the
flick looks like it takes place in some modern post-commie Eastern Bloc nation—but
while keeping the dialog true to the Bard’s text, a schism is created: Because
so many science fiction films use English actors speaking stiltedly (as representatives
of either the future or of a superior alien race), it feels as if we are
watching some fascist Alternate Earth *.
This film would be a good double-feature with either Paul Verhoeven’s
Starship Troopers, or The Hunger Games—violent militaristic fantasies (as
opposed to Children of Men, a film that might share an aesthetic with
Coriolanus, but not an initial temperament; Coriolanus also shares a “look”
with Costa-Gavras’ excellent State of Siege).
That said, Coriolanus is a damn good war film—the story follows General
Martius (Fiennes) as, after a stunning victory, he is offered the position of
consul. But to accept the job, the proud, brutal warrior would have to “bow” to
the mob, a gaggle of rabble he despises—which is common knowledge the crowd
resents.
The politics often seem overly complicated and obtuse (which reinforces
the feeling we are watching a nation being “balkanized”), but then a gory knife-fight
or fiery explosion grabs our attention: this is a gruff, serious vision of
combat—backed by excellent camerawork and production design, and truly
reinforces the character’s state of mind. Here, action is character.
For a first-timer, director Fiennes does a good job; while I’m not such
a fan of shaky-cam combat scenes, the use of “TV news” footage was intercut
into the action and Shakespearian text masterfully.
The battles often invigorate this film, when chunks of complicated dialog
are dumped on the audience.
The thesps (especially Brian Cox as a wily patrician senator, and Vanessa
Redgrave as Martius’ mom) are all top-notch, delivering convoluted passages in
a natural and unforced manner—but they’re almost too good: I’m someone who
enjoys Shakespeare, especially cinematic adaptations like Olivier’s Richard III
and Hamlet, Welles’ Macbeth, and the Russian King Lear (1971; directed by
Grigor Kozintsev), all of which tend to be “theatrical” in one way or
another.
(I’m also a fan of Shakespearian updates or retellings, like Basil
Dearden’s “Jazz Othello” All Night Long; or Forbidden Planet (inspired by The
Tempest); and even West Side Story (Romeo & Juliet).)
But with Coriolanus, I was grateful for the subtitles on the DVD.
Usually spoken at a fast pace, the dialog is delivered by a multitude of
accents, with some very thick Scots and Northern UK accents.
Other problems I might have with the film are plot and character
related, and I feel stem from the source material: While complicated, the character
of General Martius, a.k.a. Coriolanus himself, is rather shallow, and very much
a rude lout—not unsympathetic, but very close.
(This might just me, but often, it felt as if Fiennes was channeling
late British character actor, and two-time Kubrick performer, Leonard Rossiter, with Fiennes even imitating the man’s voice and mannerisms. Pretty weird
and distracting…)
Philosophically, I greatly enjoyed Fiennes’ scenes when he rails
against bending his will to the demands of the masses. As self-destructive as
it was, I understood Martius’ temperament towards acquiescence: his
independence is admirable, if bullheaded, but it is also what has made him a
great warrior.
Perhaps not as elitist as its main character, Coriolanus will be a worthwhile viewing experience for quite a few,
bringing violence, excitement and food for thought.
* = (see also Land of the Giants, various episodes of Doctor Who,
Michael Radford’s 1984, or Nazi-planet from 1960s Star Trek)
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