It's not such a bad idea to put musical numbers in a Shakespeare play. Shakespeare himself put songs into virtually all of his plays, even the tragedies. And the comedies usually ended with a song and a dance. If you're going to do that, why not make it songs from a classic period of twentieth-century songwriting?
Kenneth Branagh knows this. He used a song as a recurring theme in Much Ado, and as a climax in Henry V, and they were both awesomely effective. But they were just one song; they complemented the action and didn't try to substitute themselves for it.
The problems with song in drama is that unless it's some kind of recitativo sequence like they have in opera (where they have no choice but to sing the drama) the song doesn't move the plot forward any. This is apparent in the musical genre; dialogue sets up the situation which the characters comment on in song. The song serves to underline the emotional states of the characters which have been revealed by the dialogue and action.
Obviously, if you want a lot of songs, you'd better have a very simple plot and a few shallow characters. There isn't time to deal with anything more complex. Conversely, If you have a complex plot and a multitude of characters (as in a Shakespeare play) you'd better go easy on the songs.
Unfortunately Branagh didn't.
If he had picked the three most effective songs and stopped there, this would have been a much better movie. Certainly, "They Can't Take That Away From Me" brilliantly underlined the emotions at the end of the play. The segué from Berowne's speech into "Cheek to Cheek" was also smooth and effective.
The problem is that so many musical numbers are jammed in here that large chunks of the play have been removed, leaving gaping voids which musical numbers, being unable to advance the plot, are powerless to fill. Nevertheless KB tries. So we get a scene anticipating the visit of the men to the women, disguised as Russians, a totally irrelevant dance routine, and a scene resolving the difficulties that arose when the men came disguised as Russians. It's like the projectionist put on reel 3 instead of reel 2. The same thing happens when we are promised "The Pageant of the Nine Worthies", we see the preparation for it, the audience arriving, then suddenly everyone's singing "There's No Business Like Show Business", and after, Berowne says, "Worthies, away." What Worthies? What time warp did they disappear into?
Shakespeare knew full well that the romantic plot was light and that the lovers were virtually indistinguishable from each other, so he wrote in a half dozen stock comedy characters from the Commédia dell'arte to provide some relief. Here the musical numbers have caused the dialogue to be cut away to practically nothing, and we get no sense of the nature of the characters. Moth, for example is a wisecracking servant who can get away with it because his boss, Armado, is so stupid. Every single one of Moth's lines is cut and he remains as some sort of convenient victim for slapstick jokes.
Replacing the comedy relief with yet more musical numbers makes the viewer wonder what the heck he bothered even casting these parts for. Presumably so he could get Richard Briers in the cast somewhere.
What's even more irksome is that, while Branagh's singing voice is pretty good for a guy who's not supposed to be a singer, and some of the dance routines are quite good for people who aren't supposed to be dancers, some of them, such as the attempt to imitate Busby Berkeley or the scene with Holofernia and Nathaniel are so bad as to be painful. (Indeed this latter is so awful one suspects irony, but why? What would be the point?) It would have been so much easier just to tell Geraldine McEwan she doesn't have to dance.
To me, had the song-and dance numbers been cut back, this would have been a first-rate film. Nathan Lane did a good job of what was left of Costard's part. Branagh is effective as always with the Shakespearean speeches (all the speeches except Berowne's are cut to make room for the music). Making Nathaniel and Holofernes of opposite sexes works. Nor is it improper to my mind to suggest that the men do grow up as a result of this encounter, face reality, and get the girls. The Pathé-style newsreels (so necessary to explain what's going on since you can't figure it out otherwise) and the whole 30's feel worked very well with the theme of the unreality of the men's attitudes as opposed to the grim reality of death which intrudes at the end. The contrast between the Astaire-Rogers world and the world of the Depression and impending war mirrors this very well.
Either go into this prepared with a summary of the plot or forget about trying to make sense of it and bathe in the Hollywood froth.
Kenneth Branagh knows this. He used a song as a recurring theme in Much Ado, and as a climax in Henry V, and they were both awesomely effective. But they were just one song; they complemented the action and didn't try to substitute themselves for it.
The problems with song in drama is that unless it's some kind of recitativo sequence like they have in opera (where they have no choice but to sing the drama) the song doesn't move the plot forward any. This is apparent in the musical genre; dialogue sets up the situation which the characters comment on in song. The song serves to underline the emotional states of the characters which have been revealed by the dialogue and action.
Obviously, if you want a lot of songs, you'd better have a very simple plot and a few shallow characters. There isn't time to deal with anything more complex. Conversely, If you have a complex plot and a multitude of characters (as in a Shakespeare play) you'd better go easy on the songs.
Unfortunately Branagh didn't.
If he had picked the three most effective songs and stopped there, this would have been a much better movie. Certainly, "They Can't Take That Away From Me" brilliantly underlined the emotions at the end of the play. The segué from Berowne's speech into "Cheek to Cheek" was also smooth and effective.
The problem is that so many musical numbers are jammed in here that large chunks of the play have been removed, leaving gaping voids which musical numbers, being unable to advance the plot, are powerless to fill. Nevertheless KB tries. So we get a scene anticipating the visit of the men to the women, disguised as Russians, a totally irrelevant dance routine, and a scene resolving the difficulties that arose when the men came disguised as Russians. It's like the projectionist put on reel 3 instead of reel 2. The same thing happens when we are promised "The Pageant of the Nine Worthies", we see the preparation for it, the audience arriving, then suddenly everyone's singing "There's No Business Like Show Business", and after, Berowne says, "Worthies, away." What Worthies? What time warp did they disappear into?
Shakespeare knew full well that the romantic plot was light and that the lovers were virtually indistinguishable from each other, so he wrote in a half dozen stock comedy characters from the Commédia dell'arte to provide some relief. Here the musical numbers have caused the dialogue to be cut away to practically nothing, and we get no sense of the nature of the characters. Moth, for example is a wisecracking servant who can get away with it because his boss, Armado, is so stupid. Every single one of Moth's lines is cut and he remains as some sort of convenient victim for slapstick jokes.
Replacing the comedy relief with yet more musical numbers makes the viewer wonder what the heck he bothered even casting these parts for. Presumably so he could get Richard Briers in the cast somewhere.
What's even more irksome is that, while Branagh's singing voice is pretty good for a guy who's not supposed to be a singer, and some of the dance routines are quite good for people who aren't supposed to be dancers, some of them, such as the attempt to imitate Busby Berkeley or the scene with Holofernia and Nathaniel are so bad as to be painful. (Indeed this latter is so awful one suspects irony, but why? What would be the point?) It would have been so much easier just to tell Geraldine McEwan she doesn't have to dance.
To me, had the song-and dance numbers been cut back, this would have been a first-rate film. Nathan Lane did a good job of what was left of Costard's part. Branagh is effective as always with the Shakespearean speeches (all the speeches except Berowne's are cut to make room for the music). Making Nathaniel and Holofernes of opposite sexes works. Nor is it improper to my mind to suggest that the men do grow up as a result of this encounter, face reality, and get the girls. The Pathé-style newsreels (so necessary to explain what's going on since you can't figure it out otherwise) and the whole 30's feel worked very well with the theme of the unreality of the men's attitudes as opposed to the grim reality of death which intrudes at the end. The contrast between the Astaire-Rogers world and the world of the Depression and impending war mirrors this very well.
Either go into this prepared with a summary of the plot or forget about trying to make sense of it and bathe in the Hollywood froth.