William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream Reviewed

ROVIN' AND RAVIN' WITH MIKE

A Dream of a Movie

As I’ve confessed, I used to be an English teacher, and as such, I wonder upon whom (yep, definitely an English teacher—who else uses whom?) I inflicted greater pain, Shakespeare or my students? Shakespeare seems to be on film everywhere these days, from the weird but weirdly popular Shakespeare in Love (with a glimpse of Shakespeare on an anachronistic psychotherapist’s couch) to a variety of visions and revisions of the classic plays with such un-classic titles as Ten Things I Hate About You. Perhaps such films can undo the damage that generations of English teachers have inflicted on Shakespeare and students alike with the simple truth that Shakespeare was, first and foremost, a popular entertainer. Even his highfalutin’, sometimes overblown language was simply the only special effects he could draw on in his pre-computer, pre-laser, pre-Star Wars time.

Along comes now a real charmer of a film, William Shakespeare’s A Midsummer-Night’s Dream, to quote its full and unusual title, especially since director Michael Hoffman gives himself credit for writing. While the words are pretty much, as far as I can tell, Shakespeare’s own, Hoffman has added a brief introduction setting the action in nineteenth century Tuscany. Why? Why not? Shakespeare set his play in mythological Greece, while featuring very British fairies and stereotypical Renaissance tradesmen. (By the way, A Midsummer-Night’s Dream first showed up on the screen in 1913 and has maintained a respectable screen presence since.)

Before we go any further, a confession: A Midsummer-Night’s Dream was the Shakespeare play I most tormented, uh, taught, during my years in the classroom. One reason I especially enjoyed this play in the classroom is that it has four different plots, each with a different set of characters and a different kind of writing. The plot that holds the play together is the upcoming marriage of Theseus, Duke of Athens (David Strathaim) to Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons (Sophie Marceau). These noble characters talk in appropriately noble unrhymed verse. The joyful preparations are interrupted by a convoluted mess of young love involving—in alphabetical order—Demetrius (Christian Bale), Helena (Calista Flockhart), Hermia (Anna Friel), and Lysander (Dominic West), who speak in young lovers’ rhymes.

Meanwhile, a group of guildsmen are preparing a play for the wedding, an absurdity starring one Bottom (Kevin Kline), who, with his cronies, speaks prose. And, Oberon, king of the fairies (Rupert Everett), and his wife Titania (Michelle Pfeiffer) have, despite their current squabble, come to honor the wedding couple with their appropriately magical verse and with Oberon’s administrative assistant Puck (Stanley Tucci).

The problem with this play is to keep up with all the plots, some of which are tangled up in hopeless confusion, keep all the characters distinct, and somehow, make the whole thing work. For the current film, the jury is still out. The wedding plot is handled well, but that is not much of a problem. In production, it is not much more than a background.

The confusion with the young lovers, who fall in and out of love at the drop of a love potion, is as confusing as ever. There are a couple of intriguing tricks, but they are not much more than tricks. One of the young men—don’t ask me which—early on loses his shirt and plays most of the film topless, making it possible to keep the two young men distinct. Since one of the young women is Calista Flockhart, television’s Ally McBeal, just think lawyer, possible anorexic, and, oh yes, actress with stage experience playing Shakespeare.

The other trick is having the young lovers race through the forest on their quaint bicycles. At first, I really did not like this, but after a while, it contributed to the frenzied bustle and energy of the young lovers’ plot. A special moment occurs when Hermia tries to escape what she perceives as the taunts of the two young men, who, at the moment, are both in love with her. The two young men hold up the rear of her bicycle, so that as she peddles desperately, she goes nowhere, which is about where this part of the play always ends up.

The fairy plot contributes most to the charm quotient, with some stagey, old-fashioned ways of handling things—Titania’s flowery but mechanical bower. I still have no more idea why Titania and Oberon are so intensely at each other’s throats, but Puck in this film is a refreshing delight. Unlike the boyish portrayal by Mickey Rooney in the great 1935 film, this Puck is older, fleshier, droller, sometimes looking like a lower-level office worker caught looking at dirty web-sites on the office computer. He is, after all, a working class fairy, and when we last see him, he is a street sweeper with a cap and a broom.

The real revelation for me is the plot of the "rude mechanicals," who are rehearsing for a play to entertain at the wedding. Usually, Bottom, who spends part of the play sporting an ass’s head, is played as an ass from the beginning, pretty much the way Shakespeare wrote the part. In this film, however, Kevin Kline raises and answers some interesting questions.

What motivates Bottom to be such an ass? Why do his friends trust him with the leading role? Why, besides the love potion, does the queen of the fairies fall in love with him? There is a little wordless interaction with his wife (not a character in the play), and an attempt at being dapper that ends when bottles of red wine are poured over his white suit. There is a sadness and frustration about this Bottom that is something new indeed. Perhaps Queen Titania could have loved him without the potion.

In one night Bottom goes down into the depths of his animal self and to the heights of bliss in the fairy queen’s bower. Surely he will be a different man, and perhaps he will be. But, not before we see the play within a film—one of the funniest pieces I have ever seen on screen—which ends with a strange twist. Some of the worst writing a great writer ever produced ends up inspiring a few honest tears after a sheer pandemonium of laughter.

No, my cynical friends, a wedding is not the beginning of a tragedy but rather the classic ending for a comedy. Opposites attract and unite, the community is restored to order, and the community rejoices. In this case, the community includes the primal nature spirits called fairies who elegantly bless the wedding night of not one but three couples. As wise old Puck says, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!"

In a truly magical moment, Puck appears at the end, in a surprising manifestation in this film and offers to make amends with the audience. When he turned and walked away at the end of this film, I felt I was losing some old friends, well, friends whom I had known a couple of hours. I sat still while others in the theater were rushing out. I think I was waiting to see the fairies flitter across the still dark auditorium.

Rejoice, friends. We don’t have a masterpiece of film-making here. But, we do have a pleasant escape with some beautiful scenery, some beautiful people (some of whom are displayed in tasteful, flower-strewn nudity), and—don’t look a gift soprano in the mouth—some of the greatest hits of nineteenth-century Italian opera. By all means, some popcorn, if you want it. This is Shakespeare to eat popcorn to.

Shakespeare can be this much fun? Just look out this fall for Hamlet with Ethan Hawke. Keep your feet dry (the better to pedal those bicycles), your heart full of noble thoughts, and, just for an hour or two, your head in a lovely dream like this.