Hamlet (1990) • Directed by Franco Zefferelli

Mel Gibson’s turn as the Prince of Denmark came at the height of his “leading man” era, crowding on the heels of such blockbusters as Mad Max and the Lethal Weapon series. Director Franco Zefferelli (Romeo and Juliet) stacked his cast with a stable of classically-trained actors whose Shakespearean prowess offer additional bona fides to Gibson’s visceral, everyman performance.

Hamlet (1990)

Rated

PG

Runtime

2hr 15mins

Starring

Mel Gibson, Glenn Close, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Bates, Ian Holm, Paul Scofield

Suitable for Teens

Accessible to Newbies

Performance Quality

Production Quality

Faithful to the Text

Cinematic Value

These ratings are subjective opinion. Use with caution.

Once perched firmly atop Hollywood’s A-list, Mel Gibson is an actor-director whose star has never fully extinguished since he burst onto the movie scene in 1979’s Australian post-apocalyptic tour-de-force, Mad Max. An American who spent his adolescence in Australia, Gibson studied acting at Australia’s National Institute of Drama (NIDA). His student stage credits included the male lead in Romeo and Juliet opposite Judy Davis, an experimental turn as Queen Titania in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Waiting for Godot opposite Geoffrey Rush, and Biff Loman in Death of a Salesman. Gibson’s promise as a stage actor was forestalled by near-instant success in movies. Director George Miller, then a former emergency room doctor making his first feature film, crafted Mad Max as “a silent movie with sound.” Gibson’s gift for kinetic silence proved a perfect fit for Miller’s vision of raw, ferocious action with minimal dialogue, and he was cast in the titular role.

At the height of his career, Gibson gained favorable acting notices in various compelling dramas (Gallipoli, The Bounty, The River), but his popular impact followed a string of action blockbusters, including two Max Max sequels and the Lethal Weapon series. Gibson’s “It Factor,” coupled with smoldering good looks and a dynamic, physical approach to character solidified his mega stardom throughout the 1980s and 1990s. By 1996, he became the first actor to command a $20 million salary per film (Ransom). 

Gibson’s achievements as director brought him fame, fortune, and industry laurels, including an Academy Award win for Braveheart, and $611 million in box-office receipts for The Passion of the Christ (Gibson, who self-financed the film, took home an estimated $400 million payday). Gibson saw his star dim in the early 2000s after a DUI arrest, a battle with alcoholism, and a string of personal controversies blackened his reputation in Hollywood. His more recent career has been punctuated by directing triumphs (Hacksaw Ridge), and a resurgent acting career — mostly as a supporting character in high profile films, or a low-budget lead.

Despite Gibson’s classical training and early stage work, his high-profile career in franchise films made him seem an unlikely choice to lead Hamlet in 1990 at the height of his fame. Fortunately, Gibson brought his signature physicality and kinetic verve to the role, giving us a robust, relatable, realistic Dane unlike any we’ve seen before. While a straight-forward take on Hamlet may never be critically-acclaimed, that doesn’t prevent Gibson’s performance from being watchable, enjoyable, and a solid introduction to Shakespeare’s most famous and complex character.

The textual mastery of Laurence Olivier may be absent, but Gibson’s dynamic, muscular performance leaves no room to miss it. No languid sighing and philosophical mooning for this Dane. Gibson’s rage-fueled rampage through Elsinore may lack nuance, but it is riveting to watch. His co-stars seem equally helpless to look away as this Hamlet begins to unravel.

Director Franco Zefferelli supported his star with a stable of accomplished actors, both British and American. The cast is grounded by the appearances of Glenn Close, whose regal stateliness helps us ignore that she’s not actually old enough to be Gibson’s mother; Ian Holm, comical in his turn as pompous royal counselor, Polonius; and Alan Bates, who makes Claudius simultaneously warm and smoothly sinister. Of particular note is the performance of Helena Bonham Carter as Ophelia, who possesses an innocent fragility offset by a silent resignation to her fate. Bonham Carter’s Ophelia appears made for a kinder world than Elsinore, making her inevitable decline seem even more tragic.

Hamlet’s production values are up to Hollywood standards. The production notably succeeds in being truly cinematic, rather than feeling like a filmed play. The gritty Scottish locations are ideally cast as the Danish castle of Elsinore, while the drab, rough costumes fit the era convincingly. The staging makes great use of the actors and the terrain, and the fight choreography feels like familiar turf for Gibson, which he executes with energetic realism.

This version is reasonably faithful to Shakespeare’s original text, although there are deviations. The dialogue is trimmed down considerably — making use of Gibson’s gift for smoldering silence, no doubt — the Fortinbras subplot is completely gone, and some scenes are presented out of sequence (only those fluent in Hamlet will probably notice).

The least welcome departure from the text, in my view, is the Oedipal (i.e. incestuous) undertone to the relationship between Hamlet and his mother. At times, Gertrude seems to caress Hamlet with her eyes, lacing her dialogue with extra meaning. It’s subtle, but adults may pickup on it. Not so subtle is the scene (around 1hr 21mins into the movie) in which Hamlet violently confronts Gertrude about his father’s murder, implying she was complicit. Hamlet subjects Gertrude to physical battery (pushing her, pulling her by her necklace, shaking her, etc.) before he pins her to the bed, thrusting against her in a mimed sexual act. Both actors are fully-clothed, and the scene is not played for sensuality — the moment is brief, brutal, and shocking to both Gertrude and the audience. Students may not notice the underlying sexual context, it happens so quickly. Still, this version would rate better if viewers had been spared that interpretation.

Overall, this version of Hamlet is easy to digest, and enjoyable to watch for older students. It satisfies my first principle for Shakespearean films: helping students excavate a first layer of their understanding of the play, without seeming pretentious or needlessly complex. Students will be encouraged to dig deeper by watching this film, which is a decided “win” in my book.

Hamlet (1996) • Directed by Kenneth Branagh

Directed by and starring Kenneth Branagh, (Much Ado About Nothing, Henry V, et al), who sets the action in a 19th-century European palace. The only full-text adaptation in modern film, Branagh’s version is meticulously faithful to the play, making it the longest Hamlet ever filmed — over four hours in length. Liberating the story from the confines of the stage, Branagh deploys flashbacks, voiceovers, and parallel action, marrying Shakespeare’s words to an epic cinematic spectacle. The result is a lavish, cerebral vision of the play that will tax all but the most fluent admirers.

Hamlet (1996)

Rated

PG-13

Runtime

4hr 2mins

Starring

Kenneth Branagh, Julie Christie, Derek Jacobi, Richard Briers, Kate Winslet, Brian Blessed

Suitable for Teens

Accessible to Newbies

Performance Quality

Production Quality

Faithful to the Text

Cinematic Value

These ratings are subjective opinion. Use with caution.

To call Kenneth Branagh Shakespeare’s modern go-to guy seems unfair — not because his reputation as an interpreter of the Bard is undeserved, but because it pigeonholes his abilities as a director. Branagh is as versatile a writer-director as one could hope to find in modern cinema. His most recently films range from action adventures (Thor, Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit) to live-action fairy tales (Cinderella) to remakes of murder-mystery classics (Murder on the Orient Express) to critically-claimed dramas (the semi-autobiographical Belfast). By the advent of his take on Hamlet, Branagh — then in his mid-30s — was already a seasoned director, having helmed multiple films, including the much-heralded Henry V and Much Ado About Nothing, both considered to be definitive film versions of the plays. To no one’s surprise, Branagh’s approach to a retelling of Hamlet proved to be stylish, ambitious, and intellectual.

Branagh’s fidelity to filming the complete text is notable, but his interpretive risks set the play apart for much more than its length. The characters are saved from the drabness of a medieval castle and instead situated in the gilt-and-mirrored halls of a 19th-century palace. The costumes and snowy exteriors (with the real-life Blenheim Palace portraying Elsinore) seem conjured out of War and Peace, but all this color and luxury make a suitable contrast for the darkly-attired Danish prince. Branagh’s supporting cast combines seasoned Shakespeareans (Derek Jacobi, Richard Attenborough, Judi Dench, John Gielgud, Brian Blessed) with a cadre of bankable Hollywood stars (Robin Williams, Billy Crystal, Charlton Heston, Jack Lemmon). Ophelia is played by Kate Winslet. Then known primarily for roles in quirky independent films and period dramas, she was still some months away from superstardom on the heels of mega-smash Titanic. Her portrayal of Ophelia sets a high bar for the film. 

The tragedy of Hamlet is at its most poignant in the story of Ophelia — a young woman whose profound love-worthiness is failed by everyone around her, lost in the shuffle of revenge and politics. Winslet plays Ophelia’s vulnerability without insipidity. Gone are the ambiguities of Ophelia’s relationship with Hamlet — Branagh resolves the “Did they or didn’t they?” question that lingers over other versions with crystal-clear visuals, making Hamlet’s later brutish rejection of her all the more disturbing. Ophelia’s “mad scene” seems inevitable after such provocation, but Winslet turns it up to heart-rending with her commitment and visceral physicality.

The rest of the stellar cast is reliably brilliant, although some of the cameos offer more distraction than performance value. Charlton Heston was a wise choice to anchor the cast of players, especially since these scenes are played in their entirety. Billy Crystal’s Gravedigger was equally effective. Early glimpses of Rufus Sewell as Fortinbras make his final appearance suitably threatening, and help to illuminate this frequently-cut subplot.

Branagh’s direction throughout the film is confident and visually innovative. The imagery of Hamlet and Gertrude consoling one another after the murder of Polonius, grotesquely reflected in a pool of the victim’s blood, is just one example of Branagh’s ambitious eye crafting a stunning composition. Unlike Henry V or Much Ado About Nothing, however, Branagh’s adroit direction of Hamlet overshadows his own performance in the lead.

This Hamlet is callous and calculating. Branagh’s mastery of Shakespearean verse — so charmingly winsome in his role as Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing — comes off scripted, sullen, and unsympathetic. Missing is the agonizing internal conflict or in-the-moment discovery as Hamlet wrestles with the Big Questions of existence. This Dane seems less like a toy of fate or a victim of his uncle than an aimless, dissolute bachelor with nothing better to do. It doesn’t help that Derek Jacobi’s Claudius is benign and even likable, and his marriage to Gertrude (Julie Christie) seems rooted in sincere affection. By contrast, Hamlet appears indolent and malicious, armed with petulance and pithy quips but no principle. He seduces Ophelia and abandons her simply because he can.

This Hamlet is more villain than hero.

In a film defined by bold choices, characterizing the lead as a villain won’t seem completely out of phase, but it certainly narrows the appeal of a film already narrow in audience. Purists will love the rigorous commitment to the original text, and cinephiles will appreciate the rich imagery, sumptuous design, and deft performances. Even so, this film seems more like the culmination of an elaborate dare than a “good story well told.” Branagh’s Hamlet is polished, professional, and technically proficient. But is it entertaining? That is the (unanswered) question.

I can’t recommend this version for students. While there’s lots to be said for fidelity to the text, in my humble opinion, the length and interpretation of this version are unlikely to increase novices’ enthusiasm for the play, or for Shakespeare in general. Furthermore, Branagh’s prominent role in so many other classic Shakespearean films make it needful, in my mind, to seek a lead character played by someone else for at least a couple of films.

Content also discourages me from making this my go-to version for students. The intimacy between Hamlet and Ophelia is not explicit, but is given far more prominence than any other version I’ve seen. During the mad scene, Ophelia mimes certain things which, though not graphic, are clearly sexual; while suitable for her character and the tone of the scene, it makes for awkward viewing with young people. Violence is also more prominent in this film, including bloody stabbings and their aftermath. All in all, this is not a version suited to sensitive viewers, or those new to Shakespeare. Mature audiences, or those fluent in Hamlet, will appreciate it much better.

Hamlet (1948) • Directed by Laurence Olivier

Directed by and starring Sir Laurence Olivier, this black-and-white version is a spare, beautifully-spoken psychological timepiece. Against the grim, forbidding backdrop of a medieval castle, Olivier eschews most of the sweeping visuals and instead trains his lens on the actors themselves. Olivier’s Academy Award-winning portrayal of the title character relies on a literate, accessible rendering of the text, creating a meaningful, approachable version of the play suitable for most audiences.

Hamlet (1948)

Rated

n/a

Runtime

2hr 34mins

Starring

Laurence Olivier, Eileen Herlie, Basil Sydney, Felix Aylmer, Jean Simmons, Norman Wooland

Suitable for Teens

Accessible to Newbies

Performance Quality

Production Quality

Faithful to the Text

Cinematic Value

These ratings are subjective opinion. Use with caution.

In 1989, just as Kenneth Branagh’s career as Shakespearean idol gained momentum, the final curtain was drawn upon an actor Branagh regarded as a role model: Sir Laurence Olivier. Olivier’s influence on acting — first though British theatre, and eventually the film industry as well — was unequaled in his day, leading him to be considered, in the words of William Redfield, “the definitive actor of the twentieth century” by many of his peers. Known for his work ethic, meticulous preparation, and derision for “method acting” techniques, Olivier still shares the record for most Academy Award nominations for Best Actor: he is tied with Spencer Tracy at nine nominations each.

Olivier’s mastery of Shakespearean verse and dialogue makes this version of the play easily intelligible, even for rookies. His ability to convey meaning and emotion through the text is so effortless, it seems unremarkable — until contrasted with other portrayals. It’s clear throughout that Olivier knows the meaning and nuance of every line, and he imbues them with clarity for the viewer. Modern audiences used to naturalistic acting styles may find his portrayal dated and theatrical, but the understanding it conveys should outweigh stylistic considerations.

Olivier is supported by Jean Simmons (The Robe, Guys and Dolls) as Ophelia — with whom he would reunite in 1960’s epic Spartacus — and bolstered by a capable cast of British actors whom few recognize today. This version’s Gertrude, Eileen Herlie, was notably 11 years younger than Olivier at the time of filming — and looks it. Peter Cushing (Grand Moff Tarkin in Star Wars) makes a brief comic appearance as Osric, and Christopher Lee (Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Man with the Golden Gun) has an uncredited role as a guard.

Oliver faced contemporary criticism for his cuts to the text, including all the major subplots: both the Fortinbras storyline, and the characters of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are completely absent. The elimination of political intrigue makes room for Olivier to play up the psychological elements, loading the text with overtones of the Freudian psychoanalysis so popular in the 1940s. This Hamlet is a contemplative, brooding prince. Many of his soliloquies are rendered as voiceovers, underlining his psychological torment. In case the mental conflict isn’t obvious enough, the introductory voiceover spells it out, declaring: “This is the tragedy of a man who could not make up his mind.”

In true Freudian fashion, the Oedipal undertones blur the mother-son relationship in this film, too; fortunately, it is played more subtly than in Zeffirelli’s 1990 version. Here, our especially youthful Gertrude is shown with soft filters, lying prone in some barely-there costuming, but Olivier’s Hamlet deploys nothing more than a few lingering kisses that will be innocently interpreted by those not expecting more. His rough handling of Gertrude (and Ophelia) is brutal but not played for sexual tension.

Simmons’ Ophelia is well-acted, innocent, and appealing, but the Oedipal overtones leaves her little space with which to work: Olivier’s Hamlet is too embittered by his mother’s inconstancy to consider that any woman is not likewise. He seems mildly fond of Ophelia, but not much troubled about her emotions or her fate. Ophelia’s mad scene goes better — Simmons has command of the screen, and no one to upstage her as she plays out Ophelia’s musical, disjointed departure.

The pacing of Olivier’s version is appropriate, but may seem slow to modern viewers. Likewise, the black-and-white cinematography appears “old fashioned” to some, but Olivier uses it well, steering our focus where it needs to go. His framing exhibits intimate details of the production, from his own five o’clock shadow to the intricate trim of the costumes. Above all, his direction forces the acting into prominence, and he gives the actors the space and time to do their jobs well. It’s largely a successful effort.

Overall, this production offers an approachable, meaningful version of the play that will appeal to a wide audience — as long as they aren’t expecting a modern film. Olivier shows his ability as the gold standard for making Shakespearen text understandable to the masses. His supporting cast is at minimum pleasing, and at times, even impressive. Chills and thrills may be absent, but this is a steady and approachable interpretation that will be a good fit for students, especially if they are younger than most. The lack of overt sexual content or graphic violence also makes this a good choice for sensitive viewers.

Hamlet (2009) • Directed by Gregory Doran

Scottish actor David Tennant puts a very psychological spin on Hamlet in this from-stage-to-small-screen version. The made-for-TV film first appeared in 2008 as a critically-acclaimed modern-dress stage play by the Royal Shakespeare Company. All the major cast reprised their stage roles on screen, including Patrick Stewart, Penny Downie, Mariah Gale, and Oliver Ford Davies. The result is jarringly modern and introspective, but awkward staging and low production value hamper the film.

Hamlet (2009)

Rated

PG

Runtime

3hrs

Starring

David Tennant, Penny Downie, Patrick Stewart, Mariah Gale, Oliver Ford Davies

Suitable for Teens

Accessible to Newbies

Performance Quality

Production Quality

Faithful to the Text

Cinematic Value

These ratings are subjective opinion. Use with caution.

David Tennant, best known for his turn as Doctor Who, is a prolific actor whose credits include an impressive body of stage work, plus nearly 200 appearances in TV and film. A prodigy accepted into the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland at age 17, Tennant appears frequently with the Royal Shakespeare Company, and appears in numerous onscreen roles from a Harry Potter film, the DuckTales animated series, Star Wars: Ahsoka, and much more.

Tennant’s turn is committed and fluent, but distractingly unhinged. His twitchy, quivering portrayal will remind some of his appearance as Barty Crouch Jr. in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. To his credit, Tennant is having fun with Hamlet’s madness. He chuckles and relishes his own private jokes, to the dismay of Gertrude, Claudius, and Ophelia. His portrayal answers the question: “Is Hamlet faking his insanity?” with more doubt than the interpretations of most of his counterparts.

Penny Downie is a bright spot as Gertrude; she seems to do the best job of anyone integrating the timeless role of the Queen with the modern slant of this production. She imbues her character with much of the psychological anguish that Tennant incorporates into his Hamlet, but without the quivering physicality or turned-up-to-eleven delivery. She’s likable and accessible as Gertrude, especially when mediating between her son and new husband.

Small-screen (as well as big-screen and stage) giant Patrick Stewart appears in the double role of Claudius and the Ghost of Hamlet’s father. I enjoyed seeing this take, but Stewart’s performance is muted. The staging is at least partly to blame — Claudius is rarely framed with any intimacy, sometimes even speaking lines with his back to the camera. Moments in which Claudius is alone, especially in close-up, as with his confession scene, exhibit Stewart’s artistry — but are few and far between. The rest of the time, Claudius seems to be more a practitioner of “the banality of evil” than a dynamic villain. Compared to the frenetic, scenery-gnawing Hamlet, this Claudius just isn’t very interesting. Stewart’s acting prowess isn’t in doubt, but it isn’t utilized as well as it should be.

Mariah Gale is convincing as Ophelia, but there’s a certain sturdiness to her portrayal that makes her interactions with Hamlet seem somewhat forced. Unlike so many of her predecessors, she doesn’t play the role as a fragile ingenue — a refreshing take, but one that makes us want her to drop Hamlet like a bad habit, rather than succumb to his vortex of personal destruction. Gale gives us an Ophelia with seeming agency, who ultimately takes no action to save herself. Her performance is moving and sincere, but would seem more at home in Ophelia (2018, see below) than this version of Elsinore.

This Hamlet is very theatrical, which as the TV version of a stage play makes sense. But stage acting isn’t screen acting, and much appears to get lost in translation. Performances which would seem suited to the stage do not fit quite as well on the small screen. Some moments seem overdone, while others, especially when the camera is up close and personal, seem bland. The staging is theatrical, and the claustrophobic sets seem to constrain, rather than facilitate, the action.

Part of the modern sensibility of this version includes multiple tight shots of Hamlet speaking directly into a camcorder, confessional-style, as he breaks the fourth wall to unburden his inner turmoil. Director Gregory Doran also uses regular cuts to security camera-style footage. When revealing that the Ghost cannot be seen on camera, for example, it’s an effective technique. At other moments, the sudden cut to grainy security footage feels like a hindrance, taking us out of the action without offering another layer of meaning in return. Is the point that Denmark under Claudius is a surveillance state? Is Hamlet going mad because he’s under constant scrutiny? Or is it just a different tool the director wanted to play with? The answer never comes, and the technique serves mostly to distract.

Even as a reasonably “clean” version of the play, there are some elements for parental caution. Hamlet’s comment about “country matters” is delivered with emphatic clarity that leaves its double meaning perfectly plain. In her mad scene, Ophelia disrobes to her undergarments. Gertrude’s attire during her bedroom confrontation with Hamlet is suggestive, but not overtly so.

My greatest objection is the pantomime that serves as “argument” before the play-within-a-play begins. This pantomime of “The Murder of Gonzago” is acted out in burlesque fashion, complete with a burly queen in drag and a mock-Lucianus wearing (and doffing!) a sequined heart as a codpiece. The drag-queen partly disrobes and nuzzles his mock-breasts all over the mock-king’s face. The sequined codpiece is suggestively unfastened to reveal a slinky appendage. Though brief, the scene is ugly, vulgar and flamboyant. The real play-within-a-play does eventually begin, but its little prelude is crass and unnecessary. It would be easy to skip over without losing any meaningful dialogue.

If you can overlook the modern dress, and the appearance of anachronisms such as cameras and pistols, this film is one of the more faithful to the text versions available, though falling short of Brannagh’s version. Most of the scenes are included, with a snip here or there. Young Fortinbras, though referred to in dialogue throughout the play, never makes his final appearance — an inexplicable decision that makes the ending of play seem abrupt and incomplete to anyone familiar with the text.

All in all, the experimental feel of the production is much more at home on the stage than the small screen. Tennant’s take on the titular role is bold and juicy, but it won’t be to everyone’s taste. Meanwhile, the supporting cast is mostly overshadowed by his flamboyant interpretation. Various production choices take us out of the action, and leave little suspension of disbelief for us to appreciate the quite solid performances. This isn’t a bad version of the play at all, but with several good versions available, this isn’t the one I’d choose to show students.

Abigail