Shakespeare in Love (1998) Review

rating: *****

the story: Will Shakespeare’s inspiration for Romeo & Juliet.

the review: One of the most ridiculous common opinions in film criticism is that of course Saving Private Ryan should have beaten Shakespeare in Love at the Oscars. I think this mostly stems from the original backlash against Harvey Weinstein, the since-disgraced producer who helped usher the ‘90s independent film renaissance. 

Saving Private Ryan is a combat-drenched, grinding experience of misery. Its showcase moment is the landing at Normandy on D-Day, and then a parade of stars then and from the immediate future (I always like to remember Vin Diesel’s part as a reminder he’s good for more than muscles and cars), until we reach Ryan himself, Matt Damon, who surprises everyone by not even wanting to be saved. This would work far better if it didn’t take so long to reach him, if we had followed his war experiences in parallel to the unit led by Tom Hanks. Instead it’s just a lot of disjointed war scenes.

Shakespeare in Love is quite different. It’s a deliberately crafted experience that speaks both to the heart of our culture, in exploring a fictional account of the greatest playwright who ever lived, and to social issues, the very role of women in society.

And it’s filled with great acting. Judi Dench won wide acclaim for a relatively brief performance as Queen Elizabeth; Joseph Fiennes, in his one shining moment as someone other than the younger brother of Ralph Fiennes, seizes the opportunity; and Gwyneth Paltrow, who later seems to have gone out of her way to get people to hate her, has a truly effervescent role of a lifetime.

And Ben Affleck, before anyone had even considered to hate him, steals every scene, and Tom Wilkinson, getting to play a bad guy who gets to be a good guy, and Geoffrey Rush being Geoffrey Rush, and Colin Firth actually being insufferable, as I often find the overhyped praise he tends to garner...

It’s a celebration, that rare moment Shakespeare gets to be loved, not merely for his words but as a person. There’s a great running gag involving Christopher Marlowe. In short, the whole movie is a culmination of the last time everyone agreed Shakespeare was worth the time, when Branagh was still in the thick of building a career around him. And remembering that this is a great movie worthy of its praise and laurels might even bring the Bard back, again. 

And they don’t make movies like this every day. That’s the biggest sin of trying to downplay it, that you can have a thousand war dramas (the same year, Malick returned with The Thin Red Line, for instance) but very few efforts to have a romance that isn’t saccharine, that has ambition, speaks about a famous person, and one who himself wrote great romance. The boldness of Dench’s Elizabeth alone is a testament to what’s of real value here.