Hamlet has a big advantage to begin with. Arguably the best of Shakespeare's tragedies, it's been made into movies better than thirty times, the best known versions starring Laurence Olivier and, more recently, Mel Gibson as the tortured Dane.

Though (or perhaps as a result of the fact that) the play's plot is so well-known that it has passed into archetype, directors of Shakespeare often change the setting and time of his plays, mostly in an attempt to gain a wider audience (as blatantly demonstrated in last year's Romeo & Juliet). In his stunning, four-hour Hamlet, director Kenneth Branagh also changes the time in which the play takes place, moving it from the medieval era to the nineteenth century. This was a purely artistic choice, and it shows. This time period, with its strikingly rich and vibrant colors, makes the character Hamlet--dark in both his appearance and temperment--stand out greatly.

Branagh's direction is fresh and inventive. He is in his element here, commanding striking visuals (especially in the 70mm version of the movie). At a suprisingly large number of times, Branagh's direction brings horror movies to mind, specifically (a point also noticed by Entertainment Weekly critic Owen Gleiberman) Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. While the palace lacks the somehow broad claustrophobia that Kubrick's Overlook possessed, Branagh uses his camera much in the same way Kubrick did--to show the palace as the birthplace of madness, calculated or otherwise.

The cast is almost uniformly excellent. Kate Winslet, as Hamlet's doomed love Ophelia, gives a solid performance assisted by a script that shows the full depth of her pain. Billy Crystal, as a gravedigger, gives a light and inspired comedic performance. Unfortunately, three other actors--Jack Lemmon, Gerard Depardieu, and Robin Williams--almost seem to be thrown into the film for the hell of it. With the exception of Lemmon, who spits out his lines with unerring acurracy, those actors distract the viewer more than anything else.

The opposite of Depardieu and Williams is Charlton Heston. As the Player King, Heston is at his emotive best, giving a transfixing performance. Also excellent (and with far more screen time than Heston) is Derek Jacobi, as Claudius, Hamlet's uncle. In this full version of Hamlet, the character is shown to be three-dimensional; not a shallow villain but rather a very real man who has done something terrible and wants only to reap the act's benefits while pretending it never happened.

As remarkable as the ensemble is, they are all eclipsed by one actor and one character: Kenneth Branagh as Hamlet. For four hours, Branagh flawlessly walks the razor's edge that separates Hamlet's intensity from madness. His drama is impeccable, his humor creative, his altheticism (who knew Hamlet could slide-tackle?) impressive. We watch Hamlet pretend to be going mad, but Branagh's perfectly off-balance performance never loses the tinge of genuine insanity. In Branagh's expert hands, the character of Hamlet is more intense, more believeable, more whole than it has ever been.

I was pondering what truly made a movie a masterpiece. In the end, I couldn't come up with my own answer. Instead, I chose to agree with something that was said by someone wiser than me: "A masterpiece stands the test of time." William Shakespeare's play Hamlet is a masterpiece, and not until now has it been done justice on the screen. For four hours, every scene, every word, every motion, was necessary.

The only thing negative about this Hamlet is that I will never again want to watch another version. (Jan 97/Nov 13, 1999)