Love's Labor's Lost (2000)

I won’t lie. As I sat down to watch my first Netflixed selection in the Shawn and Shakespeare Film Review Series, it came as a complete surprise to me that Kenneth Branagh’s 2000 production of Love’s Labor’s Lost was actually a musical. Not having much experience of any kind with musicals, save that one trip to New York with my wife to get our Broadway on, I prepared to temper my review with a particularly large grain of salt. “It weirded me out, but what do I know?”

My worry was completely unfounded.

While I can’t compare it with a slew of other movie-musicals, I can say that Branagh’s offering made for a thoroughly enjoyable and satisfying adaptation of the play. The first of several major creative twists was setting the play in the World War II era. This set the stage for the broadway/big band musical selections that pepper the play, and to my mind works flawlessly. The music itself is fantastic, and I was really impressed with how well Branagh and his team were able to weave the more contemporary musical selections into the faithful presentation of Shakespeare’s dialogue.

The gender swap of the play’s original male schoolmaster Holofernes for the film’s female Holofernia was another enjoyable twist, and her suggested romance with her fellow in high-brow pretension Nathaniel seems to me very much in the spirit of Shakespeare’s original (if we’re coupling everybody off, then let’s just go ahead and couple everybody off). It was also good practice for Helen Mirren's upcoming performance as the similarly gender-swapped Prospera in The Tempest.

While I was impressed with the whole cast (note Alicia Silverstone adding to her repertoire of literary adaptations), Nathan Lane is a brilliant Costard, and for me really steals the show.

Branagh remains clever throughout the production, attending so carefully to both the original and his chosen setting. Skywriting the play’s actual last line “You that way; we this way” as the ladies flew off into the night was a great example of his thoughtfulness.

I won’t spoil it, but Branagh does construct an epilogue not found in the play, which seems qualified for Deathly Hallows-esque controversy. For my part, I enjoyed it immensely. It satisfies where the lost sequel cannot. However, if you choose to read Love’s Labor’s Lost more cynically than Branagh (and I) do, then feel free to go ahead and cry foul. Enjoy your own less happy ending.