Today's feature is Cabin in the Woods, which, despite the fact that I'm a huge Joss Whedon fan (even Dollhouse, which even many Whedon fans didn't care for, although admittedly it's not my favorite of his work) and the movie came out in 2011, I only just watched last night. The movie has basically been billed as horror, and while I can enjoy films in that genre, I'm not really a huge fan of it. Basically, I'll enjoy horror movies if there's something more to it than being horror that draws me in.
That said, I actually feel like it's pretty disingenuous to call this movie a horror flick. Honestly, it's about as much of a horror film as Buffy the Vampire Slayer is a horror TV series---which is to say that it's basically not one at all. It's very aware of horror and its various tropes, but the goal of the movie isn't really the same as those in a horror movie. Much like Buffy, it's more of a fantasy setting where really scary creatures exist than a horror movie.
So, basically what I'm saying is that I really liked it.
Fair warning, major spoilers ahead; this is a movie where it would be pretty hard for me to actually talk about how I enjoyed it without revealing substantial portions of the plot. If you want to avoid spoilers (which I never do---I'm one of those people), watch the movie then come back and read this. It's a movie that's definitely worth watching. Seriously. Go watch it. Now. I'll wait.
Done that? Good. Let's begin.
Cabin in the Woods, as those of you who've watched it well know (hint, hint to anyone who's gotten this far but hasn't seen it), is a movie that takes a traditional horror setup, five college kids who fit horror movie stereotypes (the virgin, the jock, the whore, the stoner, etc), and then both explains the setup and turns it on its ear at the same time. Turns out, these kids aren't the only ones being subjected to this kind of scenario, it's happening to other young people all over the world and it's being done to appease the Old Ones and keep them sleeping for another year so they don't wipe out the entire earth. The secret organization using both science and mysticism to try and organize the proper ritual to appease the Old Ones is thus set up as being oddly heroic even as they sit around being complete fucks to these kids (I mean, honestly, they're taking bets on what horrific creature the kids will unleash to kill them off). The two main faces of the organization sit there perving on one of the couples out at the cabin. They're not particularly great people. Even so, however, as I began to figure out what it was they seemed to be doing, I started rooting for them. Yeah, they were kind of sick, but they were what was standing between humanity and Cthulhu---I mean the Old Ones. They may not have been traditional heroes or even super great people, but it is sort of hard to argue against preventing the destruction of the world.
At the same time as this somewhat distasteful organization is being placed into an oddly heroic position, we're also getting to know the kids, whom you don't exactly want to see die. None of them are particularly dislikable and they even show some delightful moments of genre savvyness before the organization manipulating them uses their wacky science to shut it down. The movie nicely sets up a situation where you want to see the kids survive, see them win, but become more and more aware that there is something bigger at stake here than just them---that the organization needs them to die to avert a catastrophe. It's a nice conflict.
That said, I would say the weak point of the film is the kids themselves. The only one that I really actually liked was the one played by Fran Kranz, the stoner whose weed makes him immune to the chemicals the organization is trying to pump into him and therefore the most delightfully genre savvy of the bunch. While I normally find such characters annoying, he was really engaging even in the beginning of the movie when he was simply being incredibly stoned. The rest of them, though? I could really take them or leave them. They were kind of just (very) vaguely sympathetic lambs to the slaughter.
The other weak part was the part where the last two remaining kids make their way into the organization's headquarters and unleashed all of the monster that didn't get to try and slaughter them on the people who were trying ritually sacrifice them. On the one hand, it was pretty awesome and it had some really great moments (including a unicorn goring a man with its horn, which was a personal favorite), but overall it went on too long and I got bored with it. I think cutting down the slaughter would have been a good move.
Overall, though, weaknesses aside, I did really like this movie even though I was very worried that I wouldn't. It was a fun little romp and it had a premise I'd never really seen before---one which still nicely fit within the horror genre given its strong callback to Lovecraft. Honestly, watching the movie, once I was pretty sure I knew this was about preventing the rise of an eldritch horror, felt very much like playing a game of Arkham Horror or Elder Sign. It was very cool and I didn't really want to see the world destroyed by something horrible and squamous (even though it was), but at the same time I was enjoying myself instead of being scared or having my mind be overly twisted. Those emotions were for my character, or, in this case, the characters in the movie. Great movie. Not the best thing with Joss Whedon's name attached to it in existence, but it was solid and enjoyable and I'll certainly watch it again.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Dragons: Riders of Berk
So, having just watched Joss Whedon's Angel for the first time not that long ago (it was up second in my post bar exam viewing schedule), I was looking for another show that had a badass bookworm. I completely loved Wesley Wyndam-Pryce in Angel (Okay, more like was in love with. I have no idea what people see in Angel when you've got tall, dark and adorkable sitting around being ten times more sexy), who was a badass bookworm much like Rupert Giles before him. Dragons: Riders of Berk, which is a cartoon network show that is a spin off of/takes place right after How to Train Your Dragon, one of my all time favorite movies (indeed, it's supposed to bridge the gap between How to Train Your Dragon and the movie sequel coming out in 2014, which has an awesome trailer that you should check out). Like How to Train Your Dragon, Dragons: Riders of Berk stars Hiccup, a beanpole viking who is just as much an adorkable badass bookworm as Wesley was. Perfect.
Be aware that that this review will have some minor spoilers for Dragons: Riders of Berk and will simply assume that you've seen How to Train Your Dragon, so if you haven't and don't want to know how it turns out, I'm going to suggest coming back to this post later (please?).
So, my overall verdict on Dragons: Riders of Berk? It was good, but nowhere near as good as How to Train Your Dragon. While the series had some very good high points, it suffered a little bit from some unintentional squickiness, inconsistency, some repetitiveness and being aimed at children. That last one is, I think, the cause of the occasional repetitiveness and the true downfall of the show, partially because while the original movie was very much aimed at children, it didn't suffer from it the way that Dragons: Riders of Berk occasionally does. Somewhat delightfully, it does have a very Pokemon feel without the idiot protagonist or the uncomfortable contradiction between the whole you-should-love-your-pokemon message and the fact that while preaching this they're essentially cockfighting with them.
Dragons: Riders of Berk starts out with a premise I like a lot: yes, things have worked out for the better now that the dragons and the vikings are friends, but the fact of the matter is that dragons are wild animals (and more specifically, large, if friendly, predators) and that can make them tough to live with. It is, perhaps, an obvious place to go if one is going to be making a TV show set right after a movie wherein the protagonist shows his fellows that dragons are really not their enemies and can, in fact, be the most awesome pets known to man, but I do think it's a problem that most shows, especially ones where the dragons are as nice as cute as they are in this, would just hand wave or ignore entirely. The problem with this early plotline is, however, the formulaic and repetitive way in which it's handled. Until (spoiler!) Hiccup's dad gets his own dragon (awesomely named Thornado) in the sixth episode, we get the same exact story (basically) back to back to back to back: the dragons cause some sort of problem (usually involving destruction), people complain and the resident curmudgeon, Mildew, starts to stir up the residents of Berk against the dragons---because apparently they've all forgotten exactly how often they had to rebuild their entire houses before the dragons were their friends---Hiccup is tasked with controlling the dragons, but fails in his first attempt because, dammit, he's new at this. Ire at the problem caused by the dragons then rises, and Stoic then says, for the good of the village, "sorry, but those dragons have to go." Cue Hiccup fixing the problem and the dragons getting to stay. YAY!
Seriously, it's exactly that same plotline for the first four out of five episodes. Luckily, though, right as I was getting really tired of it, they do give Stoic a dragon and the next time Mildew manages to stir the village against the dragons, the dynamic has changed and Stoic isn't okay with getting rid of the dragons---and after that we never see anything even resembling that plot line again.
The show is at its best when it focuses on its characters and the relationships between them. How to Pick Your Dragon, for instance, the aforementioned episode in which Stoic acquires his dragon, is the first episode to really start doing this, breaking away from the aforementioned formulaic dragons-causing-problems episodes. Because of this, it really stands out as an episode as being very good, both of its own right because it focuses on the differences/relationship between Hiccup and his father (one of the strengths of the movie as well) and because it's being compared to those lesser, more formulaic episodes. After this, the show starts to focus more on these types of episodes (in addition to adventure storylines and progressing the overall storyline) and it really benefits from making this the emotional center as opposed to the threat of losing the dragons. Relationships were the center of the movie and the show does well when it follows suit. The best episodes of this show are the ones that focus on these relationships.
Another great delight of this series is the fact that Mark Hamill voices the biggest of the villains, Alvin the Outcast. I found this out because I thought that old Alvin sometimes sounded a hell of a lot like the joker and was delighted to find out that that was actually just because Mark Hamill was the one doing the voice acting. Mark Hamill as the Joker, and indeed Mark Hamill as a villain in general=awesome. Enough said.
Other than the repetitiveness of some of the earlier episodes, there were a few other things that bothered me enough that I feel like they deserve a mention here: the squicky accidental twincest vibe that exists between Ruffnut and Tuffnut, their hitting of the reset button regarding Astrid and Hiccup and the inconsistency sometimes seen in the show.
Given that this is a kid's show, I am pretty sure that the whole twincest vibe between Ruffnut and Tuffnut is accidental, but it's actually very strong. When I started mentioning it to Fathead, he immediately knew exactly what I was talking about, even though I'd only mentioned the words "uncomfortable" and "Ruffnut and Tuffnut." His reaction? "Oh, good, it's not just me."
On the show, the twins have this whole too kinky to torture thing going on where they beat the crap out of one another then talk about how they like it. It gives their whole relationship the air of belligerent sexual tension. This is sealed by the fact that when we get an episode that focuses on the twins, Twinsanity, it's ended with a held gaze between the two.
Dragons: Riders of Berk, you're doing twins wrong.
On the other end of the relationship scale, as mentioned above, they've basically hit the reset button in regard to Astrid and Hiccup, in an annoying attempt to give us some romantic tension. At the end of the movie, we're given the pretty clear implication that both Astrid and Hiccup are interested in one another, have expressed that interest and are going to be a thing. In Dragons: Riders of Berk, they're in that just friends but obviously interested in one another phase, which does nothing for the show. I'm serious, absolutely nothing. There was no point to it and they basically are just ignoring continuity that's already in place. It's probably stupid to be so upset about it but it but color me unhappy.
Finally, the show is occasionally very inconsistent in a way that is bothersome and speaks of poor writing. How many dragons live in Berk exactly? We have no idea. It varies from episode to episode. When the plot calls for it, it's just the dragons that the kids have. At other times, we see way more dragons who need to be removed. Even worse than that inconsistency is the fact that they once managed to casually forget that Toothless can't fly without Hiccup. Given that this is a huge plot point even within the show itself (and, of course, within the movie), I find the fact that they just forgot about it, especially since they really didn't have to, completely unacceptable.
So, I am looking forward to seeing the next season of this show, which will be starting this fall. That said, I am ten times more excited about the new movie coming out next year (have you watched the trailer for that yet? You should!).
Be aware that that this review will have some minor spoilers for Dragons: Riders of Berk and will simply assume that you've seen How to Train Your Dragon, so if you haven't and don't want to know how it turns out, I'm going to suggest coming back to this post later (please?).
So, my overall verdict on Dragons: Riders of Berk? It was good, but nowhere near as good as How to Train Your Dragon. While the series had some very good high points, it suffered a little bit from some unintentional squickiness, inconsistency, some repetitiveness and being aimed at children. That last one is, I think, the cause of the occasional repetitiveness and the true downfall of the show, partially because while the original movie was very much aimed at children, it didn't suffer from it the way that Dragons: Riders of Berk occasionally does. Somewhat delightfully, it does have a very Pokemon feel without the idiot protagonist or the uncomfortable contradiction between the whole you-should-love-your-pokemon message and the fact that while preaching this they're essentially cockfighting with them.
Dragons: Riders of Berk starts out with a premise I like a lot: yes, things have worked out for the better now that the dragons and the vikings are friends, but the fact of the matter is that dragons are wild animals (and more specifically, large, if friendly, predators) and that can make them tough to live with. It is, perhaps, an obvious place to go if one is going to be making a TV show set right after a movie wherein the protagonist shows his fellows that dragons are really not their enemies and can, in fact, be the most awesome pets known to man, but I do think it's a problem that most shows, especially ones where the dragons are as nice as cute as they are in this, would just hand wave or ignore entirely. The problem with this early plotline is, however, the formulaic and repetitive way in which it's handled. Until (spoiler!) Hiccup's dad gets his own dragon (awesomely named Thornado) in the sixth episode, we get the same exact story (basically) back to back to back to back: the dragons cause some sort of problem (usually involving destruction), people complain and the resident curmudgeon, Mildew, starts to stir up the residents of Berk against the dragons---because apparently they've all forgotten exactly how often they had to rebuild their entire houses before the dragons were their friends---Hiccup is tasked with controlling the dragons, but fails in his first attempt because, dammit, he's new at this. Ire at the problem caused by the dragons then rises, and Stoic then says, for the good of the village, "sorry, but those dragons have to go." Cue Hiccup fixing the problem and the dragons getting to stay. YAY!
Seriously, it's exactly that same plotline for the first four out of five episodes. Luckily, though, right as I was getting really tired of it, they do give Stoic a dragon and the next time Mildew manages to stir the village against the dragons, the dynamic has changed and Stoic isn't okay with getting rid of the dragons---and after that we never see anything even resembling that plot line again.
The show is at its best when it focuses on its characters and the relationships between them. How to Pick Your Dragon, for instance, the aforementioned episode in which Stoic acquires his dragon, is the first episode to really start doing this, breaking away from the aforementioned formulaic dragons-causing-problems episodes. Because of this, it really stands out as an episode as being very good, both of its own right because it focuses on the differences/relationship between Hiccup and his father (one of the strengths of the movie as well) and because it's being compared to those lesser, more formulaic episodes. After this, the show starts to focus more on these types of episodes (in addition to adventure storylines and progressing the overall storyline) and it really benefits from making this the emotional center as opposed to the threat of losing the dragons. Relationships were the center of the movie and the show does well when it follows suit. The best episodes of this show are the ones that focus on these relationships.
Another great delight of this series is the fact that Mark Hamill voices the biggest of the villains, Alvin the Outcast. I found this out because I thought that old Alvin sometimes sounded a hell of a lot like the joker and was delighted to find out that that was actually just because Mark Hamill was the one doing the voice acting. Mark Hamill as the Joker, and indeed Mark Hamill as a villain in general=awesome. Enough said.
Other than the repetitiveness of some of the earlier episodes, there were a few other things that bothered me enough that I feel like they deserve a mention here: the squicky accidental twincest vibe that exists between Ruffnut and Tuffnut, their hitting of the reset button regarding Astrid and Hiccup and the inconsistency sometimes seen in the show.
Given that this is a kid's show, I am pretty sure that the whole twincest vibe between Ruffnut and Tuffnut is accidental, but it's actually very strong. When I started mentioning it to Fathead, he immediately knew exactly what I was talking about, even though I'd only mentioned the words "uncomfortable" and "Ruffnut and Tuffnut." His reaction? "Oh, good, it's not just me."
On the show, the twins have this whole too kinky to torture thing going on where they beat the crap out of one another then talk about how they like it. It gives their whole relationship the air of belligerent sexual tension. This is sealed by the fact that when we get an episode that focuses on the twins, Twinsanity, it's ended with a held gaze between the two.
Dragons: Riders of Berk, you're doing twins wrong.
On the other end of the relationship scale, as mentioned above, they've basically hit the reset button in regard to Astrid and Hiccup, in an annoying attempt to give us some romantic tension. At the end of the movie, we're given the pretty clear implication that both Astrid and Hiccup are interested in one another, have expressed that interest and are going to be a thing. In Dragons: Riders of Berk, they're in that just friends but obviously interested in one another phase, which does nothing for the show. I'm serious, absolutely nothing. There was no point to it and they basically are just ignoring continuity that's already in place. It's probably stupid to be so upset about it but it but color me unhappy.
Finally, the show is occasionally very inconsistent in a way that is bothersome and speaks of poor writing. How many dragons live in Berk exactly? We have no idea. It varies from episode to episode. When the plot calls for it, it's just the dragons that the kids have. At other times, we see way more dragons who need to be removed. Even worse than that inconsistency is the fact that they once managed to casually forget that Toothless can't fly without Hiccup. Given that this is a huge plot point even within the show itself (and, of course, within the movie), I find the fact that they just forgot about it, especially since they really didn't have to, completely unacceptable.
So, I am looking forward to seeing the next season of this show, which will be starting this fall. That said, I am ten times more excited about the new movie coming out next year (have you watched the trailer for that yet? You should!).
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Kenneth Branagh's Othello (And Shakespeare in General)
So, last night Fathead (my spouse and near-constant companion in the viewing of most media) and I decided to watch Kenneth Branagh's Othello. I'd heard this particular version was pretty good and Fathead has always rather liked Othello because he's always liked Iago. So, this viewing was to be the great experiment about what my preferences on Shakespeare really are: in a nutshell, this was to be my test case on whether or not I only like Shakespeare when I'm watching it performed or whether I only like Shakespearean comedies as opposed to dramas.
A little bit of background before I give my verdict and then go on to discuss the movie more generally: up until last night, I was in the rather odd position of having only read dramas (Othello and Romeo and Juliet) and hated them but having seen comedies (a high school performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream and Kenneth Branagh's Much Ado About Nothing) and loved them. I wasn't really sure, this being my experience, what made the difference between whether I loved Shakespeare or hated him. Was it simply that the dramas didn't really move me but the comedies are legitimately hilarious? Or was it that Shakespeare doesn't really come alive when it's not performed and that, as such, you miss a lot of the more enjoyable nuances that really make you connect with the play? I had my suspicions, of course, but they were somewhat conflicting and, in any event, I didn't really know the answer. For instance, I was pretty sure that Romeo and Juliet would be dreadful no matter what simply because the tragedy seems to come from actually being upset that these two kids died, instead of thinking the stupid gits got what they deserved and that their love was really just lust anyway. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that A Midsummer Night's Dream would suck if you read it. I just can't imagine Bottom (who was played in the version I saw by a very talented and completely hilarious young man who had also been my middle school sweetheart) being funny if you can't actually see him sitting around with a donkey head or engaging in physical comedy. Yes, Shakespearean jests are funny by themselves but I do think they lose something without being able to see what's happening.
In any event, I got my answer last night and it is (drumroll, please) . . . both. Shakespeare is definitely better when seen but I also prefer the comedies to the dramas.
So, my verdict on Othello itself? It was okay. I definitely liked it a lot more than I had in high school---for instance, I hadn't connected with Iago at all then but I definitely really appreciated his manipulative bastard talent when watching this. Furthermore, I think Othello himself made more sense to me. Frankly, when I read the play in high school, I really just didn't pick up on exactly how intricate and well done Iago's plan was and I think that missing that really just ruins the whole play for one. It makes Othello seem nuts if it's not there and you can't appreciate how awesomely clever Iago is if you're missing that.
On the other hand, I still didn't really connect with the play enough for it to really pluck my little heartstrings and really see it as a tragedy. While Othello worked a lot better for me than he had in high school---when he simply seemed to jump to conclusions and in general just be an out of control maniac whose tragic flaw was too large to let me feel for him---I still didn't really connect with him. Honestly, I'm not even entirely certain why not. Some of it, I suppose, is that his passion didn't really save him from going over the moral event horizon when he killed Desdemona. He didn't just become convinced that his love had cheated on her and then immediately go kill her, he premeditates it by planning it out with Iago beforehand (deciding to strangle her in her bed instead of poisoning her, as he initially planned) and then even asks if she's said her prayers before doing the dead. Frankly, that kind of killing is just really cold. I think a rage killing would have made the realization that he killed an innocent woman much more tragic. That said, I'm not convinced I would have been crying at the end if he had killed her in the heat of passion instead because I hadn't exactly liked him overmuch before the premeditated killing and I can't really put my finger on why.
My other problem with this play that keeps it from being a glorious tragedy for me is Desdemona, who is so loyal that I just can't like her (and therefore be overly upset at her death, unjust as it is). She gives up everything for the love of this man and then he accuses her of sleeping around and yet she still loves him wholeheartedly, not even a little bit mad at him, and stays with him even though she thinks he may kill her. I liked much better Emilia, Iago's wife, who has her wonderful speech about why women cheat. That's more my kind of gal ( ...and this is where it will surprise no one to learn that Beatrice of Much Ado About Nothing is thus far my favorite of Shakespeare's characters).
My final problem with the play was simply that I wished that Iago had gotten away in the end. Now, obviously his treachery needed to be revealed or the play wouldn't work---Othello must find out that he's been tricked in order for the tragedy to really take place. That said, once his treachery has been revealed and Othello's dead, I would have loved to see Iago slink off into the darkness, his plan foiled (I, for one, am convinced that he never meant to be discovered, so I'm perfectly okay with his treachery being discovered serving as the reminder that this sort of behavior is bad and never really turns out well). Frankly, with a character as epically clever as Iago it's a just a shame to not see him manage to weasel his way out of justice. In other news, I think I may have made an emotional connection with the wrong character.
Regarding Kenneth Branagh's film itself, I can say that it was, overall, a pretty good adaptation of the work. The scenery is, as is to be expected, gorgeous. Branagh as Iago is delightful and Laurence Fishburne also turns in a very nice performance.
On the other hand, there were two things that drove me absolutely nuts and really pulled me out of the movie. The first was Iago talking to the camera. Now, I often love breaking the fourth wall in fiction but I firmly believe it should only be used for comedic purposes. When it's used for comedic purposes, I get something out of it happening---it's funny and I usually laugh (it's a type of humor I especially seem to appreciate). When it's not, however, it just pulls me out the story while giving me nothing. I much prefer my Shakespearean soliloquies to be dealt with as though they're the character's private musings.
The second was the fact that Othello's rage cum sickness/epileptic fits were not cut into something less dramatic. Now, I understand that this is from the original text and that the idea that such great anger could cause such a thing probably seemed like good sense in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries but every time I saw it happen there was always a long "what the hell?" moment until the text explained what was going on. Frankly, I just don't think it works very well for modern audiences (where most of what happens in Shakespeare really is, overall, timeless) and I think it would have been best cut around.
Having said all that, however, about Othello and how, overall, it doesn't really entirely do it for me even in spite of Iago and his wife Emilia, I will say that I haven't given up entirely on the idea that maybe I could really love some of the dramas. Othello certainly wasn't a complete flop for me, even if it has convinced me that the comedies are overall much better. I think it quite possible that the right drama could really be a favorite for me. To that end, I'm thinking the next Shakespearean drama I watch really should be Macbeth. I've been told that I'll really love Lady Macbeth and that sounds like reason enough to give the play a shot for me.
A little bit of background before I give my verdict and then go on to discuss the movie more generally: up until last night, I was in the rather odd position of having only read dramas (Othello and Romeo and Juliet) and hated them but having seen comedies (a high school performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream and Kenneth Branagh's Much Ado About Nothing) and loved them. I wasn't really sure, this being my experience, what made the difference between whether I loved Shakespeare or hated him. Was it simply that the dramas didn't really move me but the comedies are legitimately hilarious? Or was it that Shakespeare doesn't really come alive when it's not performed and that, as such, you miss a lot of the more enjoyable nuances that really make you connect with the play? I had my suspicions, of course, but they were somewhat conflicting and, in any event, I didn't really know the answer. For instance, I was pretty sure that Romeo and Juliet would be dreadful no matter what simply because the tragedy seems to come from actually being upset that these two kids died, instead of thinking the stupid gits got what they deserved and that their love was really just lust anyway. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that A Midsummer Night's Dream would suck if you read it. I just can't imagine Bottom (who was played in the version I saw by a very talented and completely hilarious young man who had also been my middle school sweetheart) being funny if you can't actually see him sitting around with a donkey head or engaging in physical comedy. Yes, Shakespearean jests are funny by themselves but I do think they lose something without being able to see what's happening.
In any event, I got my answer last night and it is (drumroll, please) . . . both. Shakespeare is definitely better when seen but I also prefer the comedies to the dramas.
So, my verdict on Othello itself? It was okay. I definitely liked it a lot more than I had in high school---for instance, I hadn't connected with Iago at all then but I definitely really appreciated his manipulative bastard talent when watching this. Furthermore, I think Othello himself made more sense to me. Frankly, when I read the play in high school, I really just didn't pick up on exactly how intricate and well done Iago's plan was and I think that missing that really just ruins the whole play for one. It makes Othello seem nuts if it's not there and you can't appreciate how awesomely clever Iago is if you're missing that.
On the other hand, I still didn't really connect with the play enough for it to really pluck my little heartstrings and really see it as a tragedy. While Othello worked a lot better for me than he had in high school---when he simply seemed to jump to conclusions and in general just be an out of control maniac whose tragic flaw was too large to let me feel for him---I still didn't really connect with him. Honestly, I'm not even entirely certain why not. Some of it, I suppose, is that his passion didn't really save him from going over the moral event horizon when he killed Desdemona. He didn't just become convinced that his love had cheated on her and then immediately go kill her, he premeditates it by planning it out with Iago beforehand (deciding to strangle her in her bed instead of poisoning her, as he initially planned) and then even asks if she's said her prayers before doing the dead. Frankly, that kind of killing is just really cold. I think a rage killing would have made the realization that he killed an innocent woman much more tragic. That said, I'm not convinced I would have been crying at the end if he had killed her in the heat of passion instead because I hadn't exactly liked him overmuch before the premeditated killing and I can't really put my finger on why.
My other problem with this play that keeps it from being a glorious tragedy for me is Desdemona, who is so loyal that I just can't like her (and therefore be overly upset at her death, unjust as it is). She gives up everything for the love of this man and then he accuses her of sleeping around and yet she still loves him wholeheartedly, not even a little bit mad at him, and stays with him even though she thinks he may kill her. I liked much better Emilia, Iago's wife, who has her wonderful speech about why women cheat. That's more my kind of gal ( ...and this is where it will surprise no one to learn that Beatrice of Much Ado About Nothing is thus far my favorite of Shakespeare's characters).
My final problem with the play was simply that I wished that Iago had gotten away in the end. Now, obviously his treachery needed to be revealed or the play wouldn't work---Othello must find out that he's been tricked in order for the tragedy to really take place. That said, once his treachery has been revealed and Othello's dead, I would have loved to see Iago slink off into the darkness, his plan foiled (I, for one, am convinced that he never meant to be discovered, so I'm perfectly okay with his treachery being discovered serving as the reminder that this sort of behavior is bad and never really turns out well). Frankly, with a character as epically clever as Iago it's a just a shame to not see him manage to weasel his way out of justice. In other news, I think I may have made an emotional connection with the wrong character.
Regarding Kenneth Branagh's film itself, I can say that it was, overall, a pretty good adaptation of the work. The scenery is, as is to be expected, gorgeous. Branagh as Iago is delightful and Laurence Fishburne also turns in a very nice performance.
On the other hand, there were two things that drove me absolutely nuts and really pulled me out of the movie. The first was Iago talking to the camera. Now, I often love breaking the fourth wall in fiction but I firmly believe it should only be used for comedic purposes. When it's used for comedic purposes, I get something out of it happening---it's funny and I usually laugh (it's a type of humor I especially seem to appreciate). When it's not, however, it just pulls me out the story while giving me nothing. I much prefer my Shakespearean soliloquies to be dealt with as though they're the character's private musings.
The second was the fact that Othello's rage cum sickness/epileptic fits were not cut into something less dramatic. Now, I understand that this is from the original text and that the idea that such great anger could cause such a thing probably seemed like good sense in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries but every time I saw it happen there was always a long "what the hell?" moment until the text explained what was going on. Frankly, I just don't think it works very well for modern audiences (where most of what happens in Shakespeare really is, overall, timeless) and I think it would have been best cut around.
Having said all that, however, about Othello and how, overall, it doesn't really entirely do it for me even in spite of Iago and his wife Emilia, I will say that I haven't given up entirely on the idea that maybe I could really love some of the dramas. Othello certainly wasn't a complete flop for me, even if it has convinced me that the comedies are overall much better. I think it quite possible that the right drama could really be a favorite for me. To that end, I'm thinking the next Shakespearean drama I watch really should be Macbeth. I've been told that I'll really love Lady Macbeth and that sounds like reason enough to give the play a shot for me.
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