What it’s about: An adaptation of Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus (c.1594), this begins with Roman general Titus Andronicus (Hopkins) returning to Rome with Tamora, Queen of the Goths (Lange) and her sons as his prisoners. He sacrifices the eldest to the gods for his own losses, leaving the spoiled and violent Demetrius (Rhys) and Chiron (Meyers) alive. He is then offered the chance by the senate to replace the recently deceased emperor, but declines and gives it to the previous emperor’s elder son Saturninus (Cumming), who has been competing with his younger brother Bassianus (Frain) for the title. Saturninus is a dick, though, and decides to take his brother’s lover, Lavinia (Fraser)–also Titus’s daughter– for his own bride out of spite. Bassianus spirits Lavinia away with the help of her brothers, including Lucius (Macfayden). The rigid Titus is dishonored by the actions of his children, and Saturninus decides to marry Tamora instead, who has definitely not forgotten the whole eldest son thing. All of these tensions spiral out of control, egged on by Tamora’s lover and attendant, the moor Aaron (Lenix), who seethes with hate for all of them and seeks to sow chaos.

Reflections: Shakespeare’s craziest play, being interpreted by a director whose whole thing is going wildly OTT, and running within spitting distance of three hours, this movie is a lot. The play itself leans into depravity; rape, murder, torture, mutilation, and cannibalism all factor into a story that deals with sibling relationships, the roots and inheritance of violence, the passing of the torch into a “less civilized” age, and the disruptive, retributive power exercised by those marginalized by race and sex. Onto this, Taymor weaves a relentless melange of styles and time periods–the scene will move from a dark and eerie Roman ruin to an industrial lounge with a pool table and arcade cabinets; Saturninus rides a Nazi-esque parade through the streets, while Demetrius and Chiron devolve into glammed-out future-punks. The costume and set designs are elaborate and insane–the metallic wolf’s head that rises over the throne room, or the… indescribable getups Tamora and her boys wear to drive Titus mad.

It’s all extremely theatrical, both in the aggressive stylization of it and in its stagebound roots. But Taymor and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli work the camera too, with dramatic swings, odd angles, rapid moments and bizarre fantastical sequences. The cast is equally dialed-up and all serving: Hopkins is giving the classic Shakespearian gravitas in the midst of the absurdity around him, every word coming out of Lange’s mouth could eat through sheet metal, Rhys and Meyers are feral and borderline incestuous, Lenix switches from jovially dark to seething yet thoughtful in a heartbeat, and Cumming is effete, pathetic, and dangerous. Almost everyone is horny and obsessed and violent and unpleasant–Feore’s Marcus being kind of a calm, grounding point–and despite its length, the movie whips through its escalating, labyrinthine plot with the force of a rollercoaster.

Ultimately, I think mileage with this movie is gonna depend on how much of a theater kid you have in you. I’m not familiar enough with this play in a scholarly way to comment on the adaptation, but it’s a movie full of texture and drama and expressive ideas, and the spectacle of it is thrilling. But it is also a lot of Shakespearean dialogue, often coming at you fast while the rest of the movie is beating you over the head with things to look at and digest–it takes a lot of effort to take in. And it is a dark story that leaves one unsettled, feeling a sense of loss and disgust at the pettiness of man. This is not a movie to put on for a chill time, this is something to strap in for. But if you’re up for that, it’s quite the ride with a lot of wild, interesting stuff to chew on.