Review from The Independant:
Just as you think things couldn't get any worse, Alan Cumming minces in as the scurrilous Saturninus wearing a pair of fishnets stolen from Cabaret. Jonathan Rhys Meyers (Chiron) slinks in gold hipsters, Matthew Rhys (Demetrius) dribbles as though the bleach has gone to his head, Angus MacFadyen (Lucius) stands squarely on his feet and shouts into an imaginary auditorium like someone about to break into a song from HMS Pinafore - and everybody has distractingly awful skin. The blackheads on this lot would make Eve Lom quake. Only James Frain (Bassianus) is watchable, and he dies (horribly) after about, oh, 14 hours.
ANTONIA QUIRKE
Film:
Independent on Sunday, 09-03-2000, pp 3.
(Anthony Hopkins) returns to Rome with a crew of troublemaking POWs in tow: Tamora (Jessica Lange), queen of the Goths, her three sons (Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Matthew Rhys and Raz Degan) and her Moorish lover Aaron (Harry Lennix). Rome, meanwhile, is torn by a power struggle between the late Emperor's sons: decadent Saturninus (a hilariously hysterical Alan Cumming), who claims birthright, and level-headed Bassianus (James Frain), who'd clearly make a more stable ruler. Patriotic Titus throws his weight behind Saturninus, but not before offing one of Tamora's sons as a sacrifice to his own slain sons. Bad move. Saturninus perversely chooses Tamora as his new Empress, placing her in the perfect position to wreak terrible revenge upon Titus, his brood and all of wretched Rome. Titus Andronicus has long been something of an embarrassment to Shakespeare scholars: Along with its barrage of beheadings and hand-loppings, there's also a particularly brutal rape, a pair of meat pies that would leave Sweeney Todd retching and Titus's ravaged daughter Livinia (Laura Fraser), deprived of her tongue, walking about with her father's severed hand in her mouth. Taymor, who adapted Disney's LION KING for the Broadway stage, makes no effort to tone down the violence, instead transforming the play's most notorious scenes into imaginatively fiendish set-pieces. Much of it is inspired, some of it is downright awful, but it does entertain, even as it threatens to drown its generally fine cast in a flood of blood and sundry body parts. — Ken Fox
This is the play that Bard purists disavow. Shakespeare's first tragedy has been dismissed for being heartless -- too violent and vicious -- and nothing more than an early doodle for better things that were to come ("King Lear" and "Macbeth").
It's been condescendingly dubbed his "shortest and bloodiest" play, as if that's anything to be ashamed of. But Taymor, the Broadway surrealist who did wonders with the stage production of Disney's "The Lion King," understands the work completely.
Having already directed a 1994 off-Broadway production of the play, Taymor sees "Titus Andronicus" as the devilishly playful work of a then-new talent and connects it to the preoccupation with violence that every young person experiences -- whether via violent cartoons, video games or Arnold Schwarzenegger movies. She then juxtaposes all of this stuff in this gorgeous, moving mural of a movie.
This approach is telegraphed in her film's opening scene, set in a kitchen in the 1950s, where a little boy (Osheen Jones) is playing with his toy soldiers and goes crazy bombarding them with milk and mashed potatoes and whatever else is on the table. He goes into such a frenzy that he is transported -- literally carried by a circus performer from early Rome -- into Shakespeare's text, where he's cast as Young Lucius, son of Lucius (Angus Macfadyen) who, in turn, is the eldest son of Titus himself (Anthony Hopkins).
Titus has just returned from a war in the north with the Goths, where he was victorious but where he also lost 21 of his 25 sons. Only four have returned with him. He's also brought home with him -- as souvenirs -- Tamora (Jessica Lange), the queen of the Goths, and her three sons, one of whom Titus immediately slaughters before the young man's crying, pleading mother.
This is the first of many, many gruesome murders in the film, as well as the start of a family feud to end all family feuds. It's Tamora vs. Titus, and this is a plot of low-down double-dealing and dirty-playing that's better than anything on daytime TV or anything "Melrose Place" could have conjured up. The general is the man whom all Rome wants for its next emperor, a title also sought by two brothers -- the good Bassianus (James Frain) and the aforementioned, evil Saturninus.
Titus inexplicably backs Saturninus for emperor, and Saturninus claims the sweet Lavinia (Laura Fraser), Titus' only daughter, as his empress, even though Bassianus is in love with her. But like all good, juicy soap operas, there's a sudden change and Saturninus turns Lavinia over to Bassianus to be his wife, and then Saturninus takes as his empress ... Tamora.
Tamora, meanwhile, engages in an extramarital affair with Aaron (Harry J. Lennix), a Moor who does some scheming of his own, engineering the murder of Bassianus and the rape-mutilation of Lavinia. And this is just for starters. Just think of Aaron as Iago to Tamora's Lady Macbeth.
There's probably a good reason why Harold Bloon, the famed Shakespeare aficionado, has called this work "Stephen King turned loose among the Romans and the Goths." I prefer to think of it as the great uncle of all those savvy "Scream" movies.
Taymor ups the ante by daringly mixing together a hodgepodge of styles, blending Grand Guignol with gladiator movies, with a bit of Stanely Kubrick's "A Clockwork Orange," Bob Fosse's "Cabaret' and more than a little Fellini all tossed in. It's stitched together by Elliot Goldenthal's grand score, which has been given "West Side Story"-style orchestrations. It's almost like a musical, and if anyone was made to direct the film of Stephen Sondheim's "Sweeney Todd," it's Taymor (maybe with Hopkins and Lange in the leads?).
By the time she reaches that demented final scene, Taymor has broken all the rules of playwriting and moviemaking as she piles on rape, torture, sacrifice, dismemberments, cannibalism, implied incest, carnage and, of course, murder. There are 22 main characters in "Titus Andronicus" -- and 14 of them end up dead.
The film speeds by -- all two hours and 45 minutes of it -- and each and every performer is generously showcased by Taymor. Aside from those already mentioned, there's Colm Feore -- whose calm amid all the mass hysteria makes him an instant friend -- as Titus' steadfast brother Marcus; and Jonathan Rhys Meyers and Matthew Rhys as Tamora's truly awful sons.
As for Hopkins, he's in fine form, managing to do both Shakespeare and Hannibal Lecter at the same time. He grows more eloquent and more insane as he goes on -- as does this wicked, wicked film surrounding him. It's something we rarely encounter at the movies: pure adult theatricality.
Titus was released in the US last year, but was beaten to a UK release by the later Gladiator. It's interesting to note the plot similarities. Titus, like Gladiator's Maximus, declines the chance to rule Rome, and instead finds himself viciously persecuted by a capricious new emperor. Their subsequent blood-soaked revenge is observed by a little boy, in both cases called Lucius and in both cases a pretty, rather feminine child with a pageboy hairstyle, in striking contrast to the brutal, war-like adult Roman males. At the end of both films, young Lucius is destined to inherit the throne, and so embodies the nation's hopes for peace.
Eager to allow Shakespeare's words to shine through as clearly as possible, Taymor shoots the dialogue scenes fairly straight, with a minimum of background action. As if in compensation, she punctuates them with moments of stunning spectacle, whether set-piece crowd scenes (armies on the move, a Fellini-esque orgy) or hallucinatory flashback sequences using multilayered video imagery. This alternation between talk and spectacle gives the film a slightly awkward, theatrical rhythm, so that despite the dynamism of individual sequences, the film never quite picks up the momentum to sustain it over 160 minutes. But this is as much to do with the unwieldy structure of the play itself, which - apart from its astonishing lurches in tone between atrocity, poetry and wilful absurdity - seems to offer us serial protagonists to root for: first Tamora, then Aaron the Moor, and only lastly, from Act III onwards, Titus himself.
Taymor's audacious mix of styles may not ultimately gel, but if you had to film Titus Andronicus, it's hard to imagine doing it in a more challenging, dynamic - and faithful - way. And what theatre could rival Taymor's cast: Anthony Hopkins as Titus, for once stretched by a role to the full range of his talent; Jessica Lange as Tamora, the revenge-driven empress presented here as a human tigress, swathed in tattoos and sheathed in gold lamé; and Harry Lennix, bringing a grace and dignity to the role of her lover and henchman, the villainous Aaron.
John Wrathall
This review appeared in the October 2000 issue of Sight and Sound.
But consider young Shakespeare near the beginning of his career, trying to upstage the star dramatists and attract attention to himself. Imagine him sitting down to write the equivalent of today's horror films. Just as Kevin Williamson's screenplays for "Scream" and "I Know What You Did Last Summer" use special effects and wild coincidence to mow down their casts, so does "Titus Andronicus" heap up the gore and then wink to show the playwright is in on the joke.
"Titus" as "Scream 1593"? Bloom cites the scene where Titus is promised the return of his sons if he will send Saturninus his hand--only to find the hand returned with only the heads of his sons. Grief-stricken, Titus assigns tasks. He, with his remaining hand, will carry one of the heads. He asks his brother to take the other. That leaves the severed hand. At this point in the play, his daughter Lavinia has no hands (or tongue) after being raped and mutilated by Queen Tamora's sons, and so he instructs her, "Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth." Bloom invites scholars to read that line aloud without smiling, and says Shakespeare knew the play "was a howler, and expected the more discerning to wallow in it self-consciously."
That is exactly what Julie Taymor has done, in a brilliant and absurd film of "Titus Andronicus" that goes over the top, doubles back and goes over the top again. The film is imperfect, but how can you make a perfect film of a play that flaunts its flaws so joyfully? Some critics have sniffed at its excesses and visual inventions--many of them the same dour enforcers who didn't like the biblical surprise in "Magnolia." I have had enough good taste and restraint for a lifetime, and love it when a director has the courage to go for broke. God forbid we should ever get a devout and tasteful production of "Titus Andronicus."
It cannot be a coincidence that the title role is played by Anthony Hopkins. Not when by Act 5 he is serving Tamora (Jessica Lange) meat pies made out of her sons and smacking his lips in precisely the same way that Hannibal Lecter drooled over fava beans. "Titus Andronicus" was no doubt Lecter's favorite Shakespeare play, opening as it does with Titus returning to Rome with the corpses of 21 of his sons and their four surviving brothers, and pausing in his victory speech only long enough to condemn the eldest son of Tamora, vanquished queen of the Goths, to be hacked limb from limb, and the pieces thrown on a fire.
Titus is not the hero of the film because it has no hero. He is as vicious as the others, and when he notes that "Rome is a wilderness of tigers," he should have included himself. Hopkins plays him, like Hannibal Lecter, as a man pitiable, intelligent and depraved, as he strides through a revenge story so gory that there seems a good chance no one will be left alive at the end.
Some of the contrivance is outrageous. Consider the scene where a hole in the forest floor gradually fills up with corpses, as Aaron the Moor (Harry Lennix), the play's grand schemer, unfolds a devious plot to defeat both Titus and Saturninus and seduce Tamora. This hole, of course, would be convenient on the stage, where it could be represented by a trapdoor. But in the woods, as Saturninus (Alan Cumming) apprehensively peers over the side, it takes on all the credibility of an Abbott and Costello set-up. Or consider the scene late in the play where Titus breaks the neck of his own long-suffering daughter, as if losing her tongue and arms were not bad luck enough, and then pities the fates that made him do it.
Taymor is the director of the Broadway musical "The Lion King," which is one of the most exhilarating experiences I have ever had in a theater. In her first film, she again shows a command of costumes and staging, ritual and procession, archetypes and comic relief. She makes it clear in her opening shot (a modern boy waging a food fight with his plastic action figures) that she sees the connection between "Titus Andronicus" and the modern culture of violence in children's entertainment. "Titus" would make a video game, with the tattooed Tamora as Lara Croft.
Taymor's period is basically a fanciful version of ancient Rome, but in the mix she includes modern cars and tanks, loudspeakers and Popemobiles, newspapers and radio speeches. Like Richard Loncraine and Ian McKellen's "Richard III" (1996), she sees the possibilities in fascist trappings as Saturninus seizes control of Rome and marries Tamora. There's a jazzy wedding orgy, crypto-Nazi costuming and a scene staged in front of a vast modern structure made of arches, a reminder of the joke that fascist architecture looked like Mussolini ordered it over the phone.
Taymor lavishes great energy on staging and photography. Like the makers of a cartoon, she and her cinematographer, Luciano Tovoli, sometimes move the camera in time with music or sound effects; as the picture swoops or pulls away, so does Elliot Goldenthal's score. There are scenes of rigid choreography, as in the entry into Rome, where Titus' army marches like the little green soldiers in "Toy Story." And other scenes where the movements are so voluptuous, we are reminded of "Fellini Satyricon."
Mark Van Doren was correct. There is no lesson to be learned from "Titus Andronicus." It is a tragedy without a hero, without values, without a point, and therefore as modern as a horror exploitation film or a video game. It is not a catharsis, but a killing gallery where the characters speak in poetry. Freed of pious meaning, the actors bury themselves in technique and the opportunity of stylized melodrama. Anyone who doesn't enjoy this film for what it is must explain: How could it be more? This is the film Shakespeare's play deserves, and perhaps even a little more.
Copyright © Chicago Sun-Times Inc.
Eye-popping production design by Dante Ferretti, nice costumes by Milena Canonero and cinematography by Luciano Tovoli help to keep things visually interesting, and Taymor does an excellent job of using sets and locations in Croatia and Rome as more than just backdrops to the action. Eliott Goldenthal's score mixes classical, jazz, and techno-punk stylings which increase the sense of hysteria and unease upon which the film trades. Though it is not the hyperkenetic postmodernism of Baz Lurhmann's Romeo + Juliet, the film has energy and pace despite its 162 minute running time. Each scene is well mounted and the film on the whole is weighted to press home its concerns with the nature and effects of violence as an intrinsic component of power. The lack of richness in the basic script has more to do with the maturity of Shakespeare's writing than anything cinematic, but there is, of course, enough there to achieve its ends. Whether or not the film will appeal to you may depend on your taste barometer, though this is one Shakespeare adpation that parents probably won't be eager to push their children into seeing in spite of its moral centre and period dialogue.
Review by Harvey O'Brien PhD. copyright 2000.
The play begins as celebrated Roman general Titus Andronicus (Anthony Hopkins) enters Rome following a costly victory over the Goths. He has returned home in order to bury 21 of his 26 sons who were killed in battle. To avenge their deaths he follows tradition and sacrifices the eldest son of his captured enemy, Tamora, Queen of the Goths (Jessica Lange), before her very eyes. Tamora exacts her revenge by seducing the impressionable new Emperor Saturninus (Alan Cumming) and turning her two surviving sons loose on an unsuspecting Rome.
Aaron the Moor (Harry Lennix) is the instigator whose meddling sets off a series of events that send Titus, and Rome as a whole, into a downward spiral of revenge, madness, and despair. "Titus" is not an easy film to watch. It is excruciatingly brutal and there is no true hero to root for as the bloodthirsty madness infects everyone. The violence is staged in a very artistic and symbolic way but that makes it no less disturbing to watch. In fact, in this day and age when so many movies feature over-the-top gore and almost cartoonish violence, encountering the harsh scenes in "Titus" is like a slap in the face. The characters here feel real pain and agony and there is no quick and painless exit for any of them. The viewer is forced to suffer through these tortures as well and, by the end of the film, will likely be exhausted and more than a little unsettled by what they have seen. This is not a condemnation of the movie by any means. In fact, I applaud the director for making the violence in "Titus" a weighty matter that isn't easy to forget at the end of the day.
It is important, however, that viewers know in advance what they're getting into when they sit down to watch this film. And what a film it is. As director Julie Taymor's motion picture debut, "Titus" contains many of the elements that have made her stage shows so memorable. If you've been lucky enough to see her Broadway adaptation of Disney's "The Lion King" then you know just how talented she is at taking a well-known story and transforming it into a wholly new experience -- without altering the spirit of the original. "Titus" is a visual masterpiece that takes the dialogue from the Bard's work and mixes in a healthy (or more accurately, unhealthy) dose of Fascist iconography and modern-day technology.
In the twisted world of "Titus," archers face off against armored vehicles while evil henchmen while away their hours listening to techno music and playing pinball and shooting pool. Many people may find this juxtaposition odd but it really lends strength to the film as a whole. In a strict interpretation of the play, it would be easy to dismiss the vile actions as being part and parcel of the decline and fall of ancient Rome. Pulling in modern day influences makes the film more contemporary and actually helps to illustrate what, at times, can be very difficult to comprehend prose. The performances also help to broaden our view of "Titus."
Anthony Hopkins is clearly reprising aspects that made his Hannibal Lecter role so memorable. As the general slips ever deeper into madness and lust for revenge we can clearly see the glint in the eye and perfectly delivered, chilling line of dialogue that is just as creepy as ever. Chapter 30, "Just Desserts," illustrates this similarity rather effectively. Jessica Lange's Tamora turns equally brutal as she seeks to exact vengeance over her son's death. Decked out all in gold and body painted she is at once the embodiment of lust and power. I especially enjoyed Alan Cummings' turn as the spoiled, insecure, and ultimately unredeemable Emperor Saturninus. He may be typecast as the sniveling weasel in most of his films but it's a role he plays to the hilt and with obvious glee. Harry Lennix as Aaron the Moor has what may be the toughest role of all, playing the classic villain who, through manipulation and deceit, is the orchestrater of this horrific orgy of terror.
"Titus" appears on DVD in its original aspect ratio of 2.35:1 and in an almost perfect anamorphic transfer. Colors are beautiful throughout and the palette used was clearly chosen for its visual impact. Black levels are also sharp, making the abundant nighttime scenes very clear and well-defined. On the downside, there are a few white specks that pop up here and there on the transfer. This probably wouldn't even have been noticed if not for the near perfection of the overall image. Cinematographer Luciano Tovoli was brought aboard just as production had started and his deft touch is evident in the look of the film. Having previously worked on Dario Argento's "Suspiria" and "Tenebre," his talent for composing unsettling shots was used to great effect by Taymor. All in all, "Titus" is beautiful to behold on DVD.
The audio is presented in a Dolby Digital 5.1 format or a separate Dolby Digital 2.0 track. The front soundstage is very solid with all three speakers being used to good effect. Surrounds are used frequently, but mostly for music and ambient effects. On only a few occasions does dialogue flow back to the rear speakers. Bass is good as well although the film isn't an LFE powerhouse by any means. Most importantly, dialogue is always clear and understandable and noticeable restraint was used to ensure that sound effects and music not overwhelm the spoken word. This is particularly important when you're trying to follow along with Shakespeare's Elizabethan prose. That's not to say that the score and effects don't have their place as both are very active throughout the film -- the sound mixers just know when to dial it down a bit for the sake of the story.
Now on to the extras -- as a two-disc special edition, you can expect "Titus" to be packed with plentiful bonus features. Just as importantly, the DVD was produced by David Britten Prior whose previous work on other Fox titles such as "Ravenous" and "Fight Club" should assure you that this special edition is in capable hands. You know that you're a DVD junkie when you start scanning discs to see who produced the extra features and often base your purchases on that factor alone. If you see the names Van Ling, Laurent Bouzereau, Sharpline Arts, or David Britten Prior on the box then you're in for a treat.
Disc One of "Titus" features the film itself along with two commentary tracks and an isolated score. The first commentary is provided by Director Julie Taymor and reveals a lot about the film itself and also discusses what it was like for a first-time director to take on such a massive project. She talks almost non-stop for the entire length of the film and is a joy to listen to. The second track features Anthony Hopkins and Harry Lennix commenting on their experiences in making "Titus." Unfortunately, their comments are few and far between and some of the silent stretches are so long that you'll be startled when they finally do start speaking as you're wrapped up in the movie again by that point. Recognizing this problem, the DVD offers an index to the second commentary track so you can jump straight to the scenes that are being discussed and skip the rest. Finally, there is an isolated score highlighting composer Elliott Goldenthal's work. He occasionally offers comments on the music but pretty much just lets the score speak for itself.
Disc Two is where the real meat of the extra features can be found. First up is a 30 minute moderated Q&A with Julie Taymor that was filmed at Columbia University. The questions posed by the film students in attendance provide the director with the opportunity to touch on a number of issues not covered in the commentary or documentary. Next there is a 49 minute documentary, "The Making of Titus." This is not your typical puff-piece featurette. Made up almost entirely of original footage shot during production, it really dives into the behind-the-scenes making of the film and provides a wealth of interesting information. "Penny Arcade Nightmares" focuses on a few of the special effects shots -- accompanied by commentary from coordinator Kyle Cooper. The "Costume Gallery" presents 26 still-frame shots of the various concept art for the lavish costumes. "American Cinematographer Articles" provides a couple of verbatim articles drawn from that magazine. The first, "Timeless Tale of Revenge", features the comments of cinematographer Luciano Tovoli and as such lends a new viewpoint on the making of the film. The second, "From Stage to Screen," is yet another interview with Julie Taymor. Finally, the film's theatrical trailers and TV spots are included.
While the extras are not nearly as extensive as those found on some other special edition DVDs, they are well thought out and organized and really help to explain a film that can be very difficult to understand. The included booklet also sheds light on the production of the film and provides a brief synopsis of the story of "Titus." As stated previously, "Titus" is a difficult movie to watch. In writing this review I have seen it in its entirety four times over the course of a few days. Each viewing seemed to bring out something new in the film and as such I recommend that you give it at least a second chance if you find your initial exposure a bit rough to handle. The first time through you're too much in shock by the violence and unsettled by the odd settings to really follow along. As your first impressions wear off you then begin to see under the surface of the film and truly come to appreciate the fine acting and visual artistry.
"Titus" is not brainless fun -- it will require some degree of effort to appreciate it fully. In the end, however, you will come away having watched a wonderfully unique, yet faithful, adaptation of William Shakespeare's most underappreciated and misunderstood play. Fox has really come through by offering a full-blown special edition for a movie that had only a very limited theatrical run. The passion of all involved in making the film and this DVD is evident throughout and, while the movie is certainly not for everyone, I personally give the DVD my highest recommendation.
Titus
USA/United Kingdom 1999 / Dir Julie Taymor
Review
Julie Taymor first directed Shakespeare's early tragedy Titus Andronicus off Broadway in 1994, and her film version - her feature debut - incorporates many visual motifs (and one cast member, Harry Lennix) from that production. But anyone expecting a stodgy dose of filmed theatre is immediately wrong-footed by the surreal opening sequence, in which a little boy enacts scenes of carnage with his toys on a kitchen table, and then - as if he has conjured up the spirit of violence - finds himself thrust into a real-life war. He emerges into the Coliseum in time to see Roman general Titus march in at the head of his victorious troops, terrifying in their mud-caked armour. It's a breathtaking and brilliantly choreographed opening, plunging us straight into Act I, Scene One of the play.
Taymor's style, however, couldn't be more different from Ridley Scott's. Instead of creating ancient Rome with CGI, she shoots as far as possible in actual locations, in Rome itself and in the awesome coliseum at Pula in Croatia. But her aim in doing so isn't heightened verisimilitude; these authentic Roman stones are trod by actors dressed in an eclectic blend of classical and 20th-century costumes, an unsettling conflation of imperial and fascist Rome, with more than a dash of Las Vegas glamour.
TITUS
*** 1/2 (R)
Titus: Anthony Hopkins
Tamora: Jessica Lange
Saturninus: Alan Cumming
Aaron: Harry Lennix
Chiron: Jonathan Rhys Meyers
Lucius: Angus Macfadyen
Fox Searchlight presents a film written and directed by Julie Taymor. Adapted from William Shakespeare's "Titus Andronicus." Running time: 165 minutes. Rated R (for strong, violent and sexual images).
BY ROGER EBERT
So bloodthirsty is Shakespeare's "Titus Andronicus" that critics such as Harold Bloom believe it must be a parody--perhaps Shakespeare's attempt to settle the hash of Christopher Marlowe, whose plays were soaked in violence. Other readers, like the sainted Mark Van Doren, dismiss it out of hand. Inhuman and unfeeling, he called it, and "no tragedy at all if pity and terror are essential to the tragic experience." Certainly all agree it is the least of Shakespeare's tragedies, as well as the first.
Copyright © The Sun-Times Company
Titus (1999)
D: Julie Taymor
S: Anthony Hopkins, Jessica Lange
Strikingly cinematic adaptation of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus which mounts several spectacular sequences blending props, sets, and costumes from modern and ancient eras to reinforce its thematic concerns. A strong cast led by Anthony Hopkins is also a major asset, as is a stylish score by Elliot Goldenthal. The story is not quite up to the standard expected of Shakespearian adaptation though, a mixture of rapid plotting, clever dialogue, and mean-spirited gruesomeness typical of its era but less familiar to today's 'respectable' audience for the Bard. It is to theatre director Julie Taymor's credit that she has chosen to tackle this play, of course (the film is based upon a 1994 theatrical staging), and it is an interesting film as opposed to a filmed play, which has to count for something. Yet despite many memorable scenes and some great performances, one is left with more of a sense of its visceral force than its dramatic power.
The story concerns the fate of Roman general Titus Andronicus (Hopkins), who returns from a triumphant campaign against the Goths with prisoners including their Queen (Jessica Lange). When the Caesar dies, his two sons (Alan Cumming and James Frain) vie for power. Offered the imperium, Titus refuses in favour of dutiful service to the new emperor, which proves his undoing when selfish, fickle, and foolish Cumming takes control and falls under the influence of Lange (who has only revenge on her mind). The plot moves very fast, and involves a wide palette of characters with variously misguided and villainous motives. Though the characterisation is adequate to the task of propelling things forward, one never quite gets a clear sense of the depths of the various people involved. Fates and fortunes seem to reverse themselves as quickly as they have been established, and sub-plots flit in and out of the primary narrative thrust with alarming suddenness. One sub-plot involving a captured Moor (Harry Lennix) who is also consort to the Gothic Queen gradually becomes more important as the story goes. It also indulges the Elizabethan taste for racism in what amounts to an interesting prelude to Othello. The play is pretty misogynist too, although misanthropy is probably closer to the mark than any particular form of sexual, racial, or cultural hatred, and it is all being done in the name of condemning such values, right? The whole thing climaxes with a feast and massacre which seems to have been conceived more for its shock value than its resolution of the questions raised throughout though, and all the way through there are scenes of murder, torture, and general ghoulishness which will certainly not appeal to fans of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Stripped to its essentials (which doesn't require much effort), Titus is a tale of violence and power which still has meaning for a contemporary audience. Taymor makes her intention clear early on with a pre-credits sequence depicting a child indiscriminately destroying a range of military-themed toys arranged on a kitchen table. As it unfolds the film depicts a world in which the decadence of Rome on its way to ruin is matched with the icons of early twentieth century power, namely the 1930s-style uniforms and technological trappings which were also used in Richard Loncraine's Richard III. One scene neatly collapses the rituals of war and funeral marching in a sneaky homage to movie musical dance routines. The film contrasts Hopkins' honorable devotion to tradition with the feckless emperor's pursuit of personal gratification and the evil Queen's outright maliciousness. The exercise of power inevitably turns on acts of violence, and when Titus himself eventually takes on his enemies in spite of his beliefs, his malevolence, however contextualised, is equally repugnant. A key speech is made near the end by Jennix' unrepentant deviant where he claims that if in life he has done any one good thing, it is that that he regrets. This is a story of unparalleled vileness (in the Shakespeare canon at any rate) at which the audience is required to respond with disgust. Taymor does not stand back from the dark places in the story or imagery, and with the aid of digital technology, graphically depicts the horrendous fate of Titus' daughter Lavinia (Laura Fraser). It does have a lot of polemical force, but the film is never exploitative despite moments where the mania of the thing almost tips over into Peter Greenaway-type 'is this really necessary?' territory.
Hopkins is a strong presence at the centre of the tale, convincingly depicting the general's gradual realisation that the corruption of the State will overwhelm him and his family unless he fights back. Lange is a lusty foil as the Gothic Queen, and Cumming is superbly slimy and immature as the emperor Saturninus. All of the supporting roles are filled well. Jonathan Rhys-Meyers and Matthew Rhys make a suitably contemporary pair of wild Gothic princes, Lennix is menacing as their tutor in depravity.
Frain and Fraser acquit themselves well as two of the less blameless characters amid the carnage. Angus MacFayden is a solid Lucius (Titus' son), cutting a figure who is believably the stock of the general himself.
Titus
A DVD Review by Michael Pflug
Titus (1999)
20th Century Fox Length: 162 mins. Rated: R Format: Anamorphic Widescreen · 2.35:1 Languages:English Subtitles: English, Spanish Extras: Commentary Tracks Isolated Score with Commentary Documentary Q&A with Julie Taymor SFX Featurette Costume Gallery Articles Trailers and TV Spot
"Titus Andronicus" was William Shakespeare's first tragedy and is widely condemned by scholars as being his worst play. They debate among themselves whether or not it's a parody, a thinly veiled challenge to his chief rival Christopher Marlowe, or perhaps just the product of a playwright not quite up to his game. Methinks they doth protest too much. As a very early work of the great writer, "Titus Andronicus" is an attention-grabbing epic that may not be up to par with his later masterpieces but is nevertheless a gripping story of lust, revenge, and the descent of a great man into madness. I'm sure that the Elizabethan theater goer was just as shocked by the visceral impact of "Titus Andronicus" as the modern-day viewer is by Julie Taymor's cinematic adaptation, "Titus."
July 20, 2000 © 1997-2000 by "DVD Review". All rights reserved.
Speaking of the DVD version, James Frain does appear throughout the documentary "The Making of Titus", contained on it. He and other cast members are interviewed in a segment titled "Excercises and Rehearsals". The documentary was filmed in Rome in September of 1998. Though brief, we are including his comments here (at Nadine's suggestion ~~ Thanks!) :
That's the other thing, is that you sort of turn up and it's all very exciting for a bit, and then you try and... you're trying to make it work. It's just the business of, you know, getting into rehearsal and trying to make it as good as possible. And now we are at the stage where it all seems impossible. (laughs) So, we'll see.
James Frain
IMDB link for Titus