Romeo and Juliet (1968)

Consider this a last hurrah for my Shakespeare viewings in the year of his 400th deathday. It didn't seem right to go without a more straightforward screen adaptation, as opposed to a cultural translation or a story about putting on a play. I would have seen R&J much sooner, but it took a while to finish the Netflix wait, and then I forgot it until this week.

You know the plot, right? Teens from feuding families fall in puppy love, which raises tensions even further. After a couple fatalities, they make, shall we say, desperate escapes, with the bittersweet effect of ending the feud. This all takes place in the original setting, late Renaissance Italy, as opposed to the New York of West Side Story or the bizarre California of the Baz Luhrman update.

A few things about this film stood out at the time. First, the main actors were genuine teens, at most marginally older than Shakespeare had in mind. Second, it was the first Shakespeare film that Britain did not deem fit for all ages, thanks to some nudity in a sex scene (mostly Romeo's butt, then a flash of Juliet's breasts) and, to a lesser extent, the grisliness of the resolution in a mausoleum.

Most of the names involved in this production, including the director's, meant nothing to me. Only Michael York, as the aggressive Tybalt, grew up to considerable repute. Laurence Olivier, while uncredited, provides narration in the beginning.

Fortunately, regardless of fame, the actors do deliver well. I suppose if I were more of a purist, I'd say they overdid it in parts, but that's kind of to be expected with Shakespearean tragedy: The Bard catered to an audience with no use for subtlety. It helps that the makers trust us to have decent patience, giving the emotions time build up. (This was back in the days of intermissions.) I'd say the faithful setting also helps, because anything else almost inevitably feels a little forced -- or way too forced in the Luhrman case.

If you care about costumes, the ones herein look pretty good. The Capulets usually wear warm colors while the Montagues generally prefer dark and dull, making them easy to differentiate. The exceptions are at a masquerade and at the dual funeral, when it makes sense to put aside their differences.

Aside from that, there's little enough for the eyes that I often looked at something else while listening. Nevertheless, I don't feel like I wasted my time. Like all great movies based directly on plays, it offers advantages that would be hard if not impossible to capture on a live stage. And as a fairly seasoned Shakespeare watcher, I basically had an obligation to tune in to this classic.