'Romeo and Juliet' is back in town

'Romeo and Juliet' is back in town

By Laksmi Pamuntjak-Djohan

JAKARTA (JP): Make no mistake, the updated version of the
Bard's most famous love story is not for everyone. Still dizzied
by the success of his hip crowd-pleaser Strictly Ballroom,
writer-director Baz Luhrmann audaciously calls the film William
Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, when in effect it looks more like
Bastardization of the Bard. Transposing the 16th-century material
to modern-day Verona Beach, a Catholo-Hispanic "created world"
which is part Veracruz part Mexico City, swords are now replaced
by guns, horses by roaring convertibles, Elizabethan attire by
floral Hawaiian shirts and punk hairdos.

The sheer desperation with which it tries to sell Shakespeare
to Generation X is sure to depress Shakespeare traditionalists or
those who have seen Franco Zefirelli's exquisite 1968 version
with the luminous Leonard Whiting and Olivia Hussey in the title
roles. The first 30 minutes is almost unwatchable, as Luhrmann
takes us on a bumpy ride soaked with effervescent bad taste,
vulgar humor, rapid-fire MTV editing, garbled American accents,
riotous visuals, and excessive religious iconography reminiscent
of Madonna's world-view.

The Bard's banter is hardly recognizable, mumbled and hollered
by many an untrained mouth, and drowned out by music that hyper-
kinetically jumps from up-tempo rock to Latin to punk to
children's choir to Mozart to a love ballad by Des'ree. It is
pure sacrilege.

For those who aren't familiar with the story, Romeo (Leonardo
DiCaprio) and Juliet (Claire Danes), of the violently feuding
Montague and Capulet families, secretly fall in love and marry.
This leads to a duel between Juliet's cousin Tybalt (John
Leguizamo) and Romeo's best buddy, Mercutio (Harold Perrineau).
Two fatalities and a banished Romeo result. And when Juliet's
nurse (Miriam Margolyes) and Romeo's mentor, Father Laurence
(Pete Postlethwaite) try to patch things up, tragedy beckons.

But here we have an adaptation so bizarre that we have Romeo
smoking cigarettes and shooting pool with his cousin Benvolio
(Dash Mihok); where Mercutio is a black, RuPaul-type drag queen
donning a silver miniskirt, a platinum wig and heavy lipstick;
where Tybalt is a snarling, overacting Frito Bandito all duded up
like Zorro in black, sporting leather boots with three-inch
silver heels, and speaks all his lines like a munchkin; where
Juliet's approved suitor, Paris (Paul Rudd) is a smirking, JFK-
type yuppie who is also Time's Bachelor of the Year; where
Capulet (Paul Sorvino) is a pasta-accented, overstuffed mafia
boss; where Capulet's wife (Diane Venora) is a fluttering, over-
the-top Southern belle; where Juliet's nurse is a bubbly Latina
who insists on calling the two star-crossed lovers "Romao" and
"Huliet"; and where good Father Laurence has a crucifix tattooed
on his back and cheekily lets his local boys choir cut loose on
Prince's song When Doves Cry. West Side Story is staid by
comparison. You either want to get up and leave, or stick it out
because you know it's just one colossal joke.

Following the film's first image of a television screen,
featuring a news anchorwoman introducing the events ("In fair
Verona ..."), we are treated to a quick-cut montage, liberally
splashed with handy subtitles ("The Capulet's mansion" ... etc.)
to set up the scene. Then we have the first Hong Kong spaghetti
western-style confrontation between the two warring clans, set at
a gas station. From the time bullets start spraying with Tybalt
flying through the air in tacky slow motion, there is scarcely
time to breathe before we barrel into the costume ball where
Luhrmann launches a visual blitzkrieg that assaults the senses in
no way that other movies have ever done. All this before Romeo
and Juliet ever share a scene.

Yet at the point they meet, something oddly wondrous happens.
Even though Luhrmann tries his best to rein in a horse that is
completely out of control, Shakespeare inevitably takes over,
telling its own celebrated tale which, behind all the retro
trimmings, is vintage Shakespeare. Gradually, the visual overkill
tones itself down, and gone is the painfully forced slapstick, as
if through a force over which it has no control. Rising at the
core is the magnetic chemistry between Leonardo DiCaprio and
Claire Danes, which renders Shakespeare's emotional center
somewhat beautifully intact.

When the two first gaze transfixed at each other through the
transparent panes of a large aquarium, the whole story suddenly
falls into place, resulting in a surprisingly respectful second
half. The scene, so beautiful in its quiet observation, has a
lovely, heart-stopping lyricism whose magic is only attributable
to the genius of the Bard himself. When Juliet dances with Paris
under Romeo's gaze, unable to refrain from giggling, the sheer
exuberance of love at first sight almost makes you weep.
Elevating dewy innocence and fresh-faced sincerity to new
heights, not many films have so poignantly rendered the moment
when two souls unite.

The two young actors, quite simply the finest of their
generation, are electrifying. That they can rise so high above
the grotesque commotion surrounding them and transport us to a
different world is almost inconceivable. Being the only "normal"
characters in this film surely helps, but they bring so much more
into their characters. DiCaprio's Romeo is glorious of face and
limb, once carefree, then lovelorn, now raged, then ecstatic. He
is Romeo. Danes' Juliet flits from girlish, wise, cheeky, and
sensuous, and despite her tendency to flatten out her lines, she
is breathtaking in the celebrated "What's in a name?" soliloquy.
A rare combination of strength and fragility, she exudes the
tranquility which pretty much saves the film.

Irony

In fact, with them at the heart of the story, all the other
momentous scenes -- Romeo and Juliet's bed scene; Mercurio's and
Tybalt's death; Romeo's sessions with Father Laurence; Juliet's
heartbreak inflicted by her enraged parents; the irony of the
crucial message gone haywire; and the final parting scene -- ooze
conviction. Pete Postlethwaite also adds weight and dignity
beyond his post-modernist garb, being the only classically-
trained actor in this motley cast.

Problems still prevail, to be sure. For a start, the plot
simply isn't believable by contemporary standards. Romeo is
sentenced to "banishment"? In a trashed Winnebago in the middle
of nowhere? Why doesn't Juliet just run away from home? Why
can't the message be faxed or e-mailed rather than delivered
"post-haste"? Is it likely that Romeo and Juliet want to get
married after only kissing a few times? Hell, they might not even
be virgins to start with.

Be that as it may, the sheer outlandishness of this movie only
makes sense as a patchwork of modern eclecticism, destined
perhaps for cult classic status. If you can sit out the
calamitous first half and the distasteful epilogue, you may just
revel in the sweet irresistibility of the doomed lovers. It is
definitely this year's most unlikely, yet oddly affecting movie.