Carlo
Carlei’s and Julian Fellowes’s Romeo and Juliet—I just can’t, guys. No. So
many times, no.
I
will be upfront right now and say that Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 Romeo + Juliet is
my favorite adaptation of Shakespeare’s classic text, and I have a master’s
degree in literature, so I’m basically a hipster asshole. I want a version of Romeo
and Juliet that is simultaneously true to the text but also modern and
creative, and so, yes, Luhrmann’s version works for me. Also, beautiful young
Leonardo DiCaprio! And Claire Danes in the early days of her perpetual cryface!
And Quindon Tarver covering Prince’s “When Doves Cry”! I could go on a lot
longer, guys. It. Is. Excellent.
This
version, however—not excellent. And especially not sexcellent, since the leads
have no chemistry whatsoever. Hailee Steinfeld and Douglas Booth look at each
other like they want to pass notes in gym class, not tumble into bed together.
And yes, I understand that Steinfeld was 15 during filming and Booth was 19, and that four-year age gap is a little creepy, but hey, it’s basically the only true-to-the-original-text thing
this movie has going for it! Oh, and it was actually filmed in Verona, where
the play was set. So location and actors’ ages = pluses. Everything else =
negatives.
It
feels unnecessary to go over the plot of Romeo and Juliet, because every
single person knows what it is—teens from families who hate each other get
married and then end up tragically torn apart, double suicide, “plague on both
your houses,” etc. And of course, Carlei and Fellowes don’t mess with that
basic structure. But Fellowes alters much of Shakespeare's language, simplifying and rewriting speeches and monologues and dialogue into one or two throwaway lines that simply move scenes forward. It's a choice that really strips
the story of its impact, reducing the poetic beauty of the text and severely lessening
the context. The most well-known lines are still here, the “Romeo, Romeo,
wherefore art thou, Romeo?” and “Juliet is the sun,” that kind of thing, but
other elements are severely downplayed—how the rivalry between the Capulets and the
Montagues developed over time, the friendship between Mercutio and Romeo, the role of Friar
Lawrence and his ensuing guilt over helping Juliet and Romeo. It all feels
flattened out, Cliff’s Notes-ified.
Where’s
the danger, the sex, the tension? The tragedy is still here, but without those
other elements, it means nothing. You won’t cry for these characters; you never
feel their love. Steinfeld and Booth stumble over the language (even Fellowes' streamlined stuff), look mismatched
together, and don’t convince us of their affection. Ed Westwick as the fiery
Tybalt, in a fantastically terrible wig, is even more unbelievable. The only
people who come out unscathed are Damian Lewis as Lord Capulet and Paul
Giamatti as Friar Lawrence, who both bring good intensity to their roles. Lewis
is especially frightening as Juliet’s controlling father, and his severe wig adds to his insanity. Never trust a guy with an old-timey bowl cut.
But
with their roles limited by Fellowes’ slash-and-burn strategy, Lewis and
Giamatti can’t turn the tide. This Romeo and Juliet is set on its disappointing
course, and it can’t be deterred. What a bummer.
Guttenbergs Rating: 1 out of 5
