Andy Ryan
It was a good trick. I was about to teach Romeo and Juliet to a lively class of teenagers who weren’t natural fans of England’s greatest writer. A colleague passed me the DVD of Baz Luhrmann’s film Romeo + Juliet. “Don’t tell them anything, especially not that it’s William Shakespeare. Just stick on the first few minutes.” So, I did and they sat in silence, surprised, bemused and entertained.
Three decades after the film’s release, it’s an opening that still leaves me gasping for breath. These first scenes are worth close attention not just because they are as remarkable as any film’s beginning but because they have the speed, intensity, humor, and love of Shakespeare’s language that are at the heart of the adaptation.
Baz Luhrmann gears every aspect of his direction to speed. There is no time for a skeptical teenager to get bored but more than that, it’s a pace that leaves you as caught up in the confusion as the residents of fair Verona. Every moment in this mad dash is played to the greatest intensity. There is plenty in the film’s script to upset a purist. Swathes of the original are cut, lines tweaked, characters pop up in scenes that they’re not supposed to be in. It would be wrong though to see in the editing a lack of respect for the text. Luhrmann and fellow screenwriter Craig Pearce revel in the language and set out to get you to enjoy it too.
Romeo + Juliet begins with a tiny television screen floating in a sea of black. After a few seconds of static and some brief credits, we’re straight in as the newsreader (Edwina Moore) delivers the prologue and the camera zooms slowly in. It’s an early statement of intent. This adaptation of this late-sixteenth century play will remember the stage but will focus on making full use of the power of the screen. She’s not even allowed to finish her final line before the camera zooms in at pace, complete with high-speed whirr. There’s no time to waste. We’re speeding down the street and then composer Craig Armstrong’s “O Verona” cue explodes. It’s a song which, in keeping with the rest of this opening, has no build-up and plunges straight in at high intensity.
As the scene unfolds, we get a few seconds of the face of the towering statue of Jesus before the camera zooms out quickly. Now, the statue is flanked by two towers, Montague and Capulet. We barely get a second of this vista but it sets everything up. The two families’ tower blocks stand across the street from each other, ready to brawl. The perspective of the shot means that the buildings loom over the distant statue, leaving Jesus looking like an exasperated peacekeeper. Under a bright blue sky, the city is sun-kissed but crumbling at the edges.
A speeding police car appears and then we’re in the skies with a police helicopter before we return to the streets, as the police attempt to regain control. Any action movie aficionado is feeling at home. There is then a repeat of the first part of the prologue, this time read portentously by the narrator (the late Pete Postlewaite, who plays Father Laurence). As he speaks, some of the words are repeated on newspaper front pages. This direction wants to give you the very best chance of enjoying the text. Hear it, then see it. As the narrator finishes, we begin what feels like a trailer as we flash through the film’s most dramatic moments. Luhrmann can’t wait to show you what he’s prepared and makes clear that this is not Shakespeare as you expect.
The wipe transition sees the Romeo + Juliet title card become the backs of three Montague heads while “O Verona” gives way to easy drums. There is no drop in the intensity as Gregory (Zak Orth) turns around, looks straight at us and screams, “A dog of the house of Capulet moves me.” Despite the aggression, this is the first moment of comedy as Luhrmann reminds, and perhaps reassures, viewers that there is plenty of humor to be had in this tragedy.
We get three wipe transitions in less than ten seconds. There is a fine line here between a director keeping up the rapid pace and one getting carried away by his box of tricks. We briefly see a billboard with the words “Retail’d to posterity by Montague Construction”, a near quote from Richard III rather than Romeo and Juliet. In a film that is determined to be accessible to those new to Shakespeare, this is thrown in for those more familiar with his work. As ever in this opening and more of Romeo + Juliet, there is little time for a viewer to wrestle with how it hints at a story being passed down the ages. Then we get the “Phoenix Gas” sign. There are no phoenixes in Romeo and Juliet and few in Shakespeare’s other plays so this is a touch from Luhrmann and Pearce. We know fire is coming but this is a sign that eventually, something will rise from the ashes.
The Montagues’ Chevrolet pulls up at the gas station. Benvolio tries to calm down his friends but it’s clear that he’s going to struggle. The Capulets arrive. The previous dominance of sweeping landscape shots gives way to the telling little detail. Tybalt (John Leguizamo) gets out and before we see his face, we get a close-up of a steel-heeled shoe and a cigarette scrubbed out. It’s The Prince of Cats as a Western gunslinger, with his combination of flair and violence.
As some crisp-carrying nuns return to their van, the film turns to farce. Gregory and Sampson (Jamie Kennedy) of the Montagues taunt them, and the van pulls away to reveal the stern orange sunglasses of Abra (Vincent Laresca) the Capulet. This is old-fashioned stagecraft, like the hidden actor emerging from a closet. With Sampson’s over-the-top look of shock, Abra’s flash of teeth and silver grill, Gregory’s tumble back into his car and finally Abra’s ludicrous boos and laughs, this is pure slapstick. Two hated gangs, lives at stake but the cast have license to mess around. Though Shakespeare gives scope to play this moment in jest, it’s bold to play it quite so lightly. There is always a seriousness in the silliness, as Romeo + Juliet’s most tragic moments arise by accident rather than intent. There is no such thing as just messing around among two households divided by “an ancient grudge”.
Nothing shows this better when the biting-of-the-thumb brings us back to violence. The next exchange could be played with quiet menace but Baz Luhrmann has it again at high volume, characters each on the brink of losing control. Craig Pearce’s Shakespearean script hints at some nervousness among the Montagues about whether or not to escalate but his scene is ultimately a descent into chaos. It’s Luhrmann’s choice to make it so one-sided. We are being shown a difference between those who like to play at rivalry and those determined to act on it.
Yet, the Capulets aren’t just ruthless killers. We’ve had Abra’s boos and now Tybalt begins to dominate. He’s the most skilled fighter and the only one who manages to shoot anyone but he is also ridiculous. He spins a pistol in his hand but doesn’t quite manage to put it back in his holster in one smooth movement. He throws the pistol in the air and catches it. He rips off his jacket and flings it away. He kisses his gun. Luhrmann’s showman instincts are here. It’s not enough to defeat an opponent, you must do it in style and neither side is to be taken too seriously.
A woman hits Sampson with her handbag, and Benvolio deflects a shot. We have had the drama, we’ve had the comedy, and, in this gas station finale, they are side by side. We can’t even trust time. Tybalt jumps in slow motion then flings his jacket in accelerated motion. There’s no pretense that we the viewer are just watching events unfold. We’re in the hands of a storyteller who’s pacing the tale as they see fit.
You don’t keep dropping matches and cigarettes in a gas station unless you eventually want to blow it up, even if the lucky Benvolio does get soaked in petrol without being set alight. By the standards of this frenetic film, Baz Luhrmann lingers on the spread of the flames, the columns of fire and the billowing black smoke. The viewers need to see what destruction looks like and to feel the heat.
I’ll leave them there as the police helicopter heads off in pursuit. It may seem an odd thing to remember Romeo + Juliet without remembering the title characters, and of course Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes are astonishing in this film. It is though one of the triumphs of this film that the “star cross’d lovers” don’t have all the memorable moments and the supporting cast are given their full due.
How better to finish a piece on such an extravagant film than with an extravagant claim. Once he had got over his astonishment at the Chevrolets and helicopters, I think William Shakespeare would have enjoyed this and tipped his hat to a fellow entertainer. Perhaps most important of all, I think he’d have smiled.
