He’s the Hero of the People, and He Hates It

By MANOHLA DARGIS

As soon as a thrilling Ralph Fiennes appears on “Coriolanus,” it’s clear why he chose this lesser-known Shakespeare tragedy for his directing debut. Dressed in camouflage fatigues, Mr. Fiennes — as the mythic Roman military hero first known as Caius Martius and later Coriolanus — enters a raucous scene and commands it with just a glare. What power! The city’s hungry, rioting citizens, some carrying protest signs and one holding a camera phone, have descended, demanding food. Martius charges at them and then lets loose the contempt that will aid in his downfall: “What’s the matter, you dissentious rogues, that, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, make yourselves scabs?”

The voice is soft but insistent, the rage thunderous and the backdrop — war, famine, civil unrest — as familiar as the news. Like John Osborne’s 1970s version of the play, titled “A Place Calling Itself Rome” (which Mr. Fiennes gestures at early on), this is Shakespeare’s 17th-century tragedy as contemporary military story, if one that invokes Iraq and other modern theaters of war. And it works, partly because while the language remains Shakespeare’s, the rule of the mob, the political hypocrisies and the grinding of war’s engine transcend any age. Then, too, there’s the sheer pleasure of hearing these words spoken by an actor like Mr. Fiennes, whose phrasing is so brilliant that you might be tempted to close your eyes if his physical performance weren’t equally mesmerizing.

This adaptation, by John Logan, condenses and dispenses with sections of the original tragedy, one of Shakespeare’s Roman plays, coming in at a tight 122 minutes. At the story’s center are two violent twinned relationships, the first between Martius and the Roman citizens he despises (they “like nor peace nor war”), the second between Martius and his Volscian enemy, Tullus Aufidius (Gerard Butler), whom Martius openly admires: “I sin in envying his nobility.” Martius protects the citizens who are unlike him and fights the man who is most like him, the dangers of his attitude toward each suggested by the calls for his murder that bookend the play. This is part of his tragedy, as are the pride and disdain that lead him from the hero’s role to the monster’s.

Not long after the citizens storm the streets, Martius heads out to fight the Volscians. The possible scent of her son’s newly spilled blood sends Martius’s patriotic mother, Volumnia (Vanessa Redgrave), into raptures. Blood, she enthuses to Martius’s stunned wife, Virgilia (Jessica Chastain), “more becomes a man than gilt his trophy.”

It certainly becomes Mr. Fiennes’s fierce interpretation of Martius, his eyes shining in a face streaked in blood. Having created one brilliant villain with Voldemort in the Harry Potter series, Mr. Fiennes, his head shaved, summons up another by visually evoking the iconography of Marlon Brando’s in “Apocalypse Now.” Later, the character puts on a white shirt and suspenders, suggesting that the great Roman conqueror is nothing more than a common skinhead.

Martius’s destiny turns — brutally, suddenly. After routing the Volscians, though failing to kill Aufidius, Martius returns to Rome, where he is given the title of Coriolanus for his victory at a city he had taken. The honor comes with a price: he’s forced to play the people’s politician, a role for which he’s disastrously equipped. Done in by pride and by two scheming tribunes, Brutus (James Nesbitt) and Sicinius (Paul Jesson), Coriolanus falls from power, despite the advice of his mother and his friend Menenius (Brian Cox). Another she-wolf of Rome, Volumnia has kept count of Coriolanus’s wounds (she’d happily lick them), nurturing his fame. But she’s done her job too well. Her son has become a war machine that, enraged at Rome, now turns against it, joining with the Volscians.

Mr. Fiennes has made smart choices here, notably by surrounding himself with a strong secondary cast (the smaller roles are less successfully played), and by hiring the cinematographer Barry Ackroyd. Mr. Ackroyd, who shot “The Hurt Locker,” gives “Coriolanus” a visual density that complements the bright opulence of Martius’s mansion yet can pick faces out of the fog of war and the darkest shadows. (The sound mixer, Ray Beckett, also worked on “The Hurt Locker,” in which Mr. Fiennes had a small role.) Together they bring this world alive, closing the centuries-long distance between the writing of the play and this interpretation. The language lives, as do the people, who are present enough that it’s almost a surprise that no one brandishes that timely protest sign, “Occupy Rome.”

“Coriolanus” is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). Bloody war violence.

CORIOLANUS


Directed by Ralph Fiennes; written by John Logan, based on the play by William Shakespeare; director of photography, Barry Ackroyd; edited by Nicolas Gaster; music by Ilan Eshkeri; production design by Ricky Eyres; costumes by Bojana Nikitovic; produced by Mr. Fiennes, Mr. Logan, Gabrielle Tana, Julia Taylor-Stanley and Colin Vaines; released by the Weinstein Company. Running time: 2 hours 2 minutes.

WITH: Ralph Fiennes (Caius Martius Coriolanus), Gerard Butler (Tullus Aufidius), Brian Cox (Menenius), Vanessa Redgrave (Volumnia), Jessica Chastain (Virgilia), John Kani (General Cominius), James Nesbitt (Tribune Brutus), Paul Jesson (Tribune Sicinius), Lubna Azabal (Tamora) and Ashraf Barhom (Cassius).

http://movies.nytimes.com/2011/12/02...us-review.html






Though not the most lovable, Ralph Fiennes is certainly a great actor, with a seemingly impassive lizard-like gaze and the suggestion of some inner cruelty. These stern qualities are offset by something soft behind the eyes - some doubt or fellow feeling that he seemingly doesn't want to show, but does. This is what Fiennes' characters hide behind the wall of intelligence, arrogance and functionality.

In his first film as a director, Fiennes proves that he knows Fiennes the actor inside out, with a self-knowledge that's rare, even admirable. He takes on the title role in "Coriolanus," one that is, appropriately enough, not the most lovable of Shakespeare's tragic heroes, but clearly some type of great man. Coriolanus is an almost insanely capable general, someone you would certainly want on your side, but one who is also vain and condescending and considers even social niceties to be a compromise of his inner core.

Fiennes transposes "Coriolanus" to a dystopian fantasy modern world, in which Rome is a fascist state, beset by wars and the threat of wars and with hungry citizens marching in the street for food. For about 15 minutes, this updating, replete with characters speaking iambic pentameter on a cable news network, might seem like a gimmick. It's not. It also might seem like some type of labored commentary on the modern world. It's not that, either.

Fiennes is after something else. Put simply, he puts "Coriolanus" into modern times so that we can see the story for what it is. Lifted from the context of an earlier age, the violence becomes violence, not historical tableau. And the family culture of Coriolanus, instead of seeming noble yet primitive, seems borderline crazy: He is the product of a magnetic and persuasive mother (Vanessa Redgrave) who values military success above all else - a rare sort of mom who is happy to hear that her son has been wounded, because it will add to his honor and political power.

Coriolanus is a monster of proficiency in armed combat, but he's unsuited to political life. The character's vanity and hair-trigger temper are built into the role. Fiennes brings out the emotions and motives underneath, how going through the motions in the public sphere is painful to him. Knowing the truth of the battlefield, he sees everything else as a lie - and he can't bring himself to become a liar.

Fiennes thrives under his own direction, but such is his sense of balance that everyone else thrives, too: Redgrave is scarily charming and rational, as Coriolanus' rock-ribbed mother. Brian Cox is the film's locus of probity and decency, as Rome's lone honest politician. Jessica Chastain brings a naturalness to Shakespeare's verse, as Coriolanus' young wife, and Gerard Butler makes the curious but effective choice of playing Coriolanus' chief military rival, Aufidius, as relaxed and engaging.

As a personality, Aufidius has everything that Coriolanus doesn't have - an inner ease and the love of his people. But as a general, so long as Coriolanus is alive, he will always be second best.