Friends. Countryfellows. This is already the longest year ever. I intended to observe Black History Month with today’s newsletter, but the streaming gods refused to make any of my Black-history-related wishlist movies available to my eyeballs. So I’ll return to them another time (since every month should be Black History Month anyway), and you can tide yourselves over with one of these installments in the archives.

For now I bring you, with zero justification, 1993’s Much Ado About Nothing.

Much Ado is my favorite Shakespeare play. It’s also a heck of a challenge to adapt for contemporary audiences due to the deranged levels of misogyny baked into the plot. Is Kenneth Branagh the person to write, direct, and star in a version of this story that works for Me Personally? We’re talking about the Ken Branagh who fumbled Emma Thompson by cheating on her with Helena Bonham-Carter, only to later fumble Helena Bonham-Carter… the Ken Branagh who gave Hercule Poirot’s mustache a tragic hypermasculine backstory… THIS Ken Branagh. Draw your own conclusions.

Nevertheless, there’s much about this film that is, well, watchable. Let’s get into it.

We’re ostensibly in Messina, Italy, in… uhhh… historical times?? The play was written in 1598/9 with a roughly contemporary setting, in a place that’s essentially “Semifantasy Closeishbutfar.” The costumes in Branagh’s version are more nineteenth-century, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that matters. I would in fact be hard-pressed to identify any stylistic choices in this movie that mean much of anything. These include the following directorial flourishes:

Plot-wise: A war has just ended with very few deaths, and no deaths of Important People, so it’s time for the nobility to party. Don Pedro, Prince of Messina (Denzel Washington in his PRIME), rocks up to the villa of Leonato, bringing along his pal Claudio, a young dope; his other pal, Benedick (Branagh), an obnoxious ham; and Don John (Keanu Reeves!!), Pedro’s brother, who just went to war against him and lost—awkwarddddd.

Leonato has just been lounging around with his daughter, Hero (Kate Beckinsale, in her first movie role), his niece Beatrice (Emma Thompson), and his gazillion servants, so he’s excited to host. In fact, everyone’s so hyped that they get naked and bathe, allowing us to glimpse some ahistorical tan lines (real quick, Ken: when was modern underwear invented?) and presumably addressing producers’ early concerns that the script was too dialogue-heavy. Which it is. Too heavy with dialogue for Branagh specifically. But we’ll get to that.

Claudio and Hero are swooning over each other, though it’s unclear if they’ve ever actually had a conversation. By contrast, Beatrice and Benedick are locked in a “merry war” of clashing wits, which should be way more fun than it is here. For the first chunk of the movie, at least, Branagh and Thompson don’t seem to be enjoying their verbal skirmishes, which makes it hard for me to ship the B-team.

And I WANT to ship them. They’re intellectual equals with compatibly savage senses of humor, similar trust issues, and a shared tendency to take a joke too far. That’s Fictional Soulmate Bingo as far as I’m concerned. They’re my favorite Shakespeare couple by a long shot, and somehow these two very skilled actors who were MARRIED AT THE TIME don’t sell the dynamic for me.

But this is a mere nitpick compared to what the subplot serves up. Claudio is dweebing out over Hero, so Pedro’s like Hey, fun idea: At tonight’s masked ball, I’ll pretend to be you and propose to Hero on your behalf. If it works, I’ll let you know!

Sir… what? It’d be one thing if Claudio expressed overwhelming anxiety about interacting with Hero, but he… doesn’t? Pedro just swoops in with a completely unsolicited Cyrano de Bergerac scheme. Presumably we’re meant to infer that Pedro, like most obscenely rich/powerful people, is perpetually bored and doesn’t know how to Be Normal—and what’s Claudio supposed to do? Tell him, No thanks, I’d prefer to propose to my crush myself? Not our smolbean babyboy Claudio, oh nononoooo, he’s just a widdle baaaaabyyyy.

Meanwhile! John/Keanu is sulking because he lost his war. Even though Pedro has forgiven him and invited him to his friend’s party, Keanu still wants revenge. He’s like I know! I’ll sabotage Claudio’s engagement to Hero. Because Claudio is Pedro’s bud. And anything I do to hurt Claudio will hurt Pedro. Suuuure, man. A penchant for convoluted shenanigans must run in the family.

Keanu does a drive-by villainous whisper in Claudio’s ear, tipping him off that Pedro plans to court Hero for himself. My favorite part of this movie is the way Keanu whooshes past people, goes Psst! Here’s a lie! and immediately glides out of frame again. If I hadn’t lived through the last several years of mainstream media coverage, I’d find it implausible that he’s so thoroughly gained these folks’ trust within forty-eight hours of losing a literal land war to them, but, well, here we are.

At the party, everybody’s wearing masks and conveniently unable to recognize one another’s voices. (Benedick does an over-the-top French accent to conceal his identity from Beatrice while they insult each other in third person, which got me wondering how an actual Italian doing a fake French accent would sound.) Pedro moves in on Hero, and Claudio freaks out because he’s bought Keanu’s story. Tbf, that story makes more sense than the truth, which is that Pedro really is just doing the equivalent of passing a note in class that says My friend likes you, will you go out with him?

Hero accepts, or Leonato accepts on her behalf but she’s happy about it, and once Claudio learns that he’s the lucky winner of an arranged marriage, he calms down and forgets his plans to blood-feud with Pedro. But the audience doesn’t forget. We know already that Claudio is the true villain of this story.

Pedro, still in the mood for hijinks, decides everyone should convince Benedick that Beatrice is in love with him and vice versa. Has this guy thought about, idk, feeding and housing his subjects? Has he contemplated just getting really into buying expensive watches? Because this matchmaking hobby is a menace.

But it also works! A few strategic comments have both our leads rethinking their whole lives. Benedick, who's long sworn off marriage, decides that if Beatrice likes him he’s game. And Beatrice, who's absolutely shredded Benedick for everything from his ego to his whirlwind bromances, drops those objections the moment she overhears that he's into her.

Sidenote: Here’s where it becomes inescapably obvious that Branagh preserved nearly every word of Benedick’s dialogue so he could recite it, Office-style, to the camera. Around his fourth soliloquy you realize he’s added all the other cinematic bells and whistles to distract you from the fact that he doesn’t really know how to adapt the theatrical meat of this story for the screen. But at least the lines are funny.

Keanu’s still stewing over all the non-monotone fun everybody else is having, so he revives Operation Ruin My Brother’s Friend’s Life. This time he convinces Claudio and Pedro that Hero is sleeping around. How? By using early deepfake technology—aka Margaret (Imelda Staunton in a thankless, dialogue-less role),¹ a servant who kinda-sorta looks like Hero in that both are white brunettes. One of Keanu’s minions hooks up with Margaret while Claudio and Pedro watch from a distance, thinking they're seeing Hero. No follow-up questions, no fact-checking, just two fish in a barrel.

But tomorrow’s the wedding day! So what does our poor lil babyman Claudio do?

This scene is ROUGH to watch. Claudio flings Hero to the ground while viciously slandering her. Leonato’s like Well, son, if you got to third base with her that’s understandable but changes his tune when he’s informed that no, she’s allegedly been getting hot and heavy with some rando. Hero denies it; Beatrice calls BS; Margaret has an oh sh*t reaction² but still no actual lines. After Claudio, Pedro, and Keanu storm off, Leonato proceeds to grab Hero by the hair, fling her again, and wish that she’d never been born. That's when Benedick goes Whoa, whoa, let’s all take a deep breath and consult the friar.

Sidenote: To his credit, Benedick is the only guy, other than the friar, who doesn’t jump to condemn Hero. Despite having joked repeatedly about women being untrustworthy, and despite being lukewarm on Hero herself (“Were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her”), when the chips are down he believes her over his friends. It’s the one factor that, even in this adaptation, convinces me he’s worthy of Beatrice.

If you’ve consumed any Shakespeare, you know he’s never written a chill, levelheaded friar. His friars are nosy weirdos itching to be involved some overly-complicated intrigue. Now’s this friar’s time to shine: He proposes telling everyone that Hero has

I know you guessed it. It’s the only logical choice. It’s what any reasonable person would’ve suggested.

The idea, apparently, is that Hero might be “innocent,” and if Claudio thinks she’s dead, he may consider the possibility that he’s messed up. Granted, it is extremely hard to get this kind of man to introspect, but I would’ve voted for faking a perilous illness vs a straight-up trip to the morgue. That’s me, though. I’m just not on the friar’s level.

While Hero is spirited (no pun intended) away, Benedick checks on Beatrice, eventually uttering the most romantic line Shakespeare ever wrote: “I do love nothing in the world so much as you. Is not that strange?”

After they confess their mutual feelings, Benedick rashly enthuses, “Bid me do anything for thee”—probably expecting her to ask for, like, a villa, or an extensive trip to Costco—to which she responds, “Kill Claudio.”

He’s like Um yikes. She counters, HE DESERVES IT. “Oh, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace!” Which would merely be what Aaron Sorkin calls a proportional response.

Sidenote: Beatrice is always right, even when she's wrong, and she's not wrong here. Claudio should have to watch while each of his organs is consumed and insulted by both Beatrice and Gordon Ramsay.

Benedick ultimately agrees to challenge Claudio to a duel. Heck yeah, nothing says true love like vigilante justice. Stab that MFer.

I’m now obliged to mention the tertiary subplot. Meet the Messina PD, a posse of buffoonish beat cops led by Constable Dogberry. I’m not sure how to tell you this, but Dogberry is played by Michael Keaton. Yeah, I don’t understand it either. His interpretation of the character is basically “What if Schmeagol starred in a police procedural,” and it… does not work, but I respect his commitment to the bit.

By pure chance, these clowns discover Keanu’s plot and Hero’s “innocence.” By even purer chance, they manage to marshal a handful of collective brain cells long enough to deliver the news to Leonato.

By now, the following events have occurred:

Once presented with proof of Hero’s “innocence,” Claudio is filled with remorse; break out your tiniest violin for him. Leonato suggests he atone for DRIVING A WOMAN TO HER DEATH by doing the Renaissance version of posting an apology on Instagram. He also goes Hey, I have a niece (not Beatrice!) you could marry instead; you game? And Claudio’s like Sure, might as well.

If Claudio is the story’s true villain, Leonato’s a close second. This man instantly turns on his daughter when she’s attacked, and he not only forgives the guy who harassed and humiliated her but STILL THINKS THAT GUY IS HUSBAND MATERIAL. I understand that Claudio is close to Pedro and Pedro is rich/powerful, but Messina must be FULL of eligible bachelors. We were told right off the bat that none of them died in the war! Consider widening your search radius, Leonato!

Alas, we proceed to Wedding 2.0, where Claudio presents himself to a veiled bride. This turns out to be Hero, alive and—just as important!!!—still a virgin. Hero punches Claudio in the face, punches Leonato in the throat, steals a horse, and rides off into the sunset. At least that’s what would happen in my adaptation. Per the script, she voices no objection to marrying this abject loser who’s treated her like dirt. Benedick even takes the duel off the calendar.

The tone immediately turns playful again as Beatrice and Benedick realize they’ve been led into a relationship under false pretenses. Both fall back on pride, denying they’re actually into each other. Luckily Claudio has swiped a poem written by Benedick, and Hero has procured one by Beatrice, which they produce as proof of each stubborn lead’s feelings.

Haha, it’s so delightful when your closest confidantes violate your trust and privacy! That’s never taken any incredibly dark turns over the course this play! And good thing we all believe these scribblings are authentic, because it’d be impossible to fake someone’s handwriting like a bunch of other things have been faked lately! This’ll be such a fun story someday: “How did you two get together?” “Well, it all started right before Uncle Claudio publicly hurled false and incredibly damaging accusations at Aunt Hero on their first wedding day…”

In the end, at least one case of true love prevails, and everybody gets to dance. The dancing would feel more natural in a stage production, but Branagh doesn’t care. He’s choreographed the living daylights out of this closing sequence, which works fairly well if you mentally replace the soundtrack with “We’ll Never Have Problems Again” from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend.³

Plot, pacing, and structure: 4. Most of the credit for this rating goes to Shakespeare. Nah, you know what, all the credit goes to Shakespeare. Tbf, so do some of my critiques—Billy Boy Genius was not above a head-scratching motive, an improbable coincidence, or a jarring tonal shift.

Characters: 3. Once again, it’s Shakespeare’s Globe; Branagh’s just chewing scenery in it. But Thompson is dynamite, while Washington portrays a baseline-unlikeable character as well-intentioned and a little lonely. And Keanu… uh… graced that set with his presence!

Historical accuracy: 4. When you’ve got dialogue and scenarios straight from the Bard’s mouth, the only way you can muck up this category is by doing almost everything Branagh does as a director.

Themes: 3. Sooooo…. we could talk about how even if Hero HAD slept with a rando on the eve of her marriage, the reactions of Claudio, Pedro, and Leonato would still be heinous. Or how these dudes experience no real consequences for their trash behavior. Or how Benedick keeps joking about women’s faithlessness up to and including his very last line because nobody’s learned as much as we’d like. Alternatively! We could talk about how nobody’s immune to self-deception; how honest communication solves a surprising percentage of problems; how being open to trust and joy even after you’ve been let down, and even when you know you’re taking a risk, is pretty much the only way to live. “For man is a giddy thing, and this is my conclusion.”