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Olivier’s take on Shakespeare’s story of madness and murder most foul is unmistakably a filmic one — with its monologues recast as internal thoughts heard in hushed voiceovers and use of dizzying camerawork to show Hamlet’s inner turmoil, this could never have worked on stage. The emotional desolation of Elsinore’s inhabitants is conveyed with a roving camera that swoops down on characters plotting or moping in huge, empty halls.
Tom Stoppard, I’ll grant you, is infinitely more clever and more talented than your run-of-the-mill fan-fiction writer. But he’s doing exactly the same thing as those hordes of writers who have continued and expanded upon the adventures of the crew of the Enterprise, the owner of the TARDIS, those two FBI agents down in the basement, and the fictional denizens of a zillion other cultish TV shows.
Damn! Mulan is thisclose to being not just a brilliant animated film, but a brilliant film, period. It has a dramatic story, a heroine who kicks butt, a villain who kicks butt, a square-jawed hero with a not-so-nice side, and some of the most sweepingly gorgeous visuals since Beauty and the Beast. But Mulan is dragged down by insipid songs that feel tacked on and silly, inappropriate sidekicks and secondary characters.
A perfectly wonderful little film…
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