Movie Review: "Much Ado About Nothing" (Joss Whedon, 2013)

MUCH ADO AND MODERNITY: JOSS WHEDON
ADAPTS A SHAKESPEARE CLASSIC by Bennett Campbell Ferguson

 Above: Amy Acker and Alexis Denisof in the film

In William Shakespeare’s profoundly hilarious play “Much Ado About Nothing,” readers are treated to a number of spectacles—romance, treachery, true love, buffoonery, and above all, wittily grievous misunderstandings.  All this can be found in the newest film version of the play, which was directed by Joss Whedon.  In part, Mr. Whedon has updated the story by moving it to the present day (the formerly Elizabethan characters are now armed with sleek iPods and silver handguns) but that change is mostly cosmetic.  The only really surprising alternation is the inclusion of something new—flashbacks. 

The film begins with one, in which a young soldier named Benedick (Alexis Denisof) abandons his lover Beatrice (Amy Acker), setting up a lifetime of good-natured sparring that will lead them back into each other’s arms, this time for good.  Of course, no such scene occurred in the play.  Yet all the same, I wish there had been more of these moments in the movie.  Mr. Whedon’s adaptation is sometimes awkwardly talkative and the glimpses in the past briefly free it from the constraints of quiet chatter.  They are inspired moments and a few more of them would have let the movie really breathe and live a life of its own, beyond Shakespeare’s wondrous work.  But let me back up a moment.  While Mr. Whedon’s “Much Ado” is not perfect, it is also perfectly amiable.  In returning to such an eternally witty and moving story, he has created a film that works as both a chronicle of good-natured hi-jinks and poignant romance.  And if the result is not a definitive adaptation, it is certainly one that contributes something unique to the play’s legend.

For the uninitiated, “Much Ado About Nothing” is the story of a Prince and his comrades who, fresh from the war, spend a few very eventful days at the manor of the respected nobleman Leonato.  In Mr. Whedon’s film, the manor becomes a stark Los Angeles mansion and Leonato (who is played by the delightfully chameleonic Clark Gregg) dresses in well-trimmed business suits.  So do the returning soldiers he welcomes into his home—the Prince (Reed Diamond), Claudio (Fran Kranz), and Benedick.  Of course, the story involves more than post-war bromance.  The visit quickly heats up into a battle of the sexes, as Benedick bickers with Amy Acker’s Beatrice (while their friends conspire to make them fall in love) and Claudio falls in love with Leonato’s daughter Hero, before ultimately crushing her with his boyish wrath.

This tangle of characters and conflicts contains many familiar moments—the masked ball where the Prince woos Hero in Claudio’s name; Claudio and Hero’s ill-fated wedding; and above all, the eavesdropping scenes in which Beatrice and Benedick each become convinced that the other is madly in love with them.  To say the least, Mr. Whedon’s interpretation of these moments is more mild than Kenneth Branagh’s sumptuous 1993 film adaptation of the play.  Whereas Mr. Branagh’s version featured a trumpeting orchestral score by Patrick Doyle played throughout, Mr. Whedon’s music (which he composed himself) is effective but mostly used only to transition from scene to scene.  As a result, his version feels a little quieter, a little milder, and somewhat less passionate.

And yet, he breathes life once more into those iconic moments.  The masked ball splits between a crowded courtyard and a quietly smooth swimming pool, a choice that enriches the scene with both giddy romance and serene menace.  Then on the other end of the spectrum, Benedick’s eavesdropping scene begins with a delightful prologue—the man jogging up and down a stone staircase while delivering a monologue about his aversion to marriage.  It’s a tribute to the relaxed spontaneity of the film and to Mr. Denisof’s performance that this moment feels not like a strange clashing of Shakespeare’s Elizabethan England and Twenty-First Century America, but a perfectly normal moment.  Perhaps because the film’s white walls and sloping grounds feel rather otherworldly to begin with, the delivery of lines such as, “Ha!  The Prince and Monsieur Love!  I will hide me in the arbor” feels completely natural.  There’s even a moment in which the Prince, irked by Claudio’s flamboyant speech, shoots him a look that clearly says, “Good sir, you are quite overdoing it.”  It’s a clever scene, one that not only eases the story into the present era, but also separates Mr. Whedon’s version from Mr. Branagh’s.

            Yet aside from this moment, “Much Ado” is almost rigorously faithful to its source.  They are long scenes in which the romances of the heroes and heroines and debated and while Shakespeare’s dialogue is more than exquisite, the film feels rather overstuffed with chatter.  It’s not the slow pacing of the film that’s problematic—it’s that long sequences of dialogue are allowed to play uninterrupted.  The talk may be lively, but there’s so much of it that at times the film actually feels a little boring.  Despite being a Shakespeare lover, I found myself squirming from time to time in my seat at Cinema 21, eager to move onto the next scene.

            That said, better to have squirmed and stayed than squirmed and left.  Mr. Whedon’s movie might not be as sweetly exhilarating as Mr. Branagh’s, but it is still a terrific and touching piece of entertainment.  This version of “Much Ado” might not be perfect, but it is often satisfying original.  And even when it’s not, it’s still wonderful.  As I watched, I found myself eager to hear certain exchanges delivered, and they were all present.  “For which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?” Benedick asks Beatrice late in the film.  Her response, as always, is perfect: “For them all together.” :)