A lot of people don't think Branagh's Hamlet film is all that good, but I must admit I think it is splendid. Like virtually every production of Shakespeare, it has problems and it has had to make hard choices, not all of which work out. The thing about the "secret doors everywhere", for instance, simply doesn't work. That element never achieves the ominous feeling of metaphor or analogy that it attempts to, which results in the play being too gaudy and losing its trademark sense of a thousand mysteries looming. This is the biggest problem with this production. And while it's a biggie, I'm also inclined to say that it's the only problem. Almost everything else works out absolutely beautifully. All right, so Branagh is a mite too old for the title role. And the relationship with Ophelia seems a little forced. And he gets too hysterical at times. But that's it. No other complaints. Even with these faults, I think this version is a seminal one, and if it's not as powerful a drama as it ought to be, it's every bit the literary work that it equally ought to be. We get the complete text of the longest version of the play, innovatively and expensively brought to the screen, mostly enunciated in perfect and modern and highly understandable voices - even if they sometimes speak too quickly in order to get the massive text over with. But in a staging of Shakespeare, it simply is not possible to speak slowly enough for the audience to really appreciate the full depths of the language. For that, one must delve into the print versions of the plays.
All the actors of this version are simply mesmerizing and utterly and instantly classic (incl. Jack Lemmon). Julie Christie as Gertrude is surely one of the best ever, and even the American actors are astounding, esp. Charlton Heston as the Player King - who would have thought it?! (A story is going around that Heston once played Hamlet on stage, and when a critic in the front row couldn't stand his hammy acting and said out loud, "This is terrible!", Heston reportedly retorted right from the stage: "Well, I didn't write this crap!" Of course it may not be true, but it's a funny story - and if true, a bold and ironic choice for Branagh to include Heston here.) Robin Williams as "Young Ozric" is perhaps not young enough for the part, but he makes it a comical one, which is warranted.
Overall it is a very well-produced version, with most of the key scenes being, to my mind, supremely memorable. Of course, I watched this movie just as I was becoming interested in Shakespeare (and around the same time as Luhrmann's formidable Romeo+Juliet), and it made a great impression on me, which must account for some of my fondness for it.
All things considered, I must pronounce Branagh's Hamlet to be my favorite one, with Derek Jacobi's 1980 BBC version a close second. I probably like Branagh's Shakespeare work more than most, finding him an expert interpreter and popularizer, with an attractively casual attitude to the words and a deep and appropriately and unashamedly enthusiastic appreciation of the text. In the world of Shakespeare acting, the two brightest luminaries remain Olivier and Branagh, and while Olivier is the superior actor, Branagh brings Shakespeare down from the pedestal of snobbery and artifice, and transforms it into churlish, easy-going, populistic worldliness while compromising none of its dignity. Branagh, I believe, brings out a truer Shakespeare than the world has yet seen.
And so, 10 out of 10 for an absolutely tremendous Hamlet.

There is one great moment in *Surviving Christmas* that almost makes it worth the pain: James Gandolfini cracks a shovel over Ben Affleck's stupid head.
This movie serves as yet another unfortunate example of James Gandolfini proving what a great actor he is whilst simultaneously besmirching his career by acting in this film.
Young and wealthy ad exec, Drew Latham (Ben Affleck) has been inculcated into believing that one must never be alone on Christmas. (And there, from the outset, is the underlying problem with our suspension of disbelief in this idiotic movie: how many people of Drew's social standing, in 2004, truly care one way or another whether Christmas is spent alone or with half the family or with a fifty-dollar prostitute?) Storyline finds Drew buying off a family to spend Christmas with, on the condition that they pretend to be his own, insensately ignoring all the indications to the contrary that his money has not bought the emotions he was seeking.
For $250,000, a surly suburban truck driver, Tom Valco (James Gandolfini), and his disheveled wife, Christine (Catherine O'Hara), agree to be Drew's ad hoc family, against protests from their son, Brian (a very one-dimensional Josh Zuckerman) and daughter, Alicia (a very soft-focused Christina Applegate). Drew then spends the rest of the movie supposedly recapturing his youth or - something. The messages in this movie are as twisted and illogical as its dry-mouthed storyline. Fraught with overt psychoses, Drew plasters a fake smile on his face and blindly remains in denial against every denigration that he was supposedly buying the Valco family to avoid.
Which begs the question: If Drew is paying these people to recapture some semblance of joyous familial emotion, how psychotic must he be to pretend happiness amongst their barbs and mental anguish over his presence? It is not a case of the Valco family hiding their true feelings and pretending to be happy while around Drew - three of the four members make it patently clear they despise him. Is he so incognizant that he cannot see that his money is not buying him the "family" atmosphere he was inculcated into believing was a truth in the first place? As with all movies this opprobrious, one wonders how *four* screenwriters could possibly get so tangled in their own narcissistic dreams of appearing in a credits sequence that they will overlook any semblance of plausibility, or intelligence.
Director Mike Mitchell, who was responsible for *Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo* - stop right there. 'Nuff said.
Gandolfini and O'Hara somehow manage to shine, proving their mettle amongst this mess. Christina Applegate is willowy and cutesy and blond and fiery in all the right places, scathingly cutting Drew into little strips of carcass for most of the movie, then doing an about-face and falling in love with him because the script tells her to.
And I wouldn't go so far as to say that Affleck is a bad actor, but John Schneider better look over his shoulder. There's a whole new level of Desperately Seeking Talent in town.