Touches You

Surprisingly incoherent and boring

Good story, Not enough for a whole film

Great example of an old-fashioned, pure-at-heart escapist event movie that doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not and has boat loads of fun being its own ludicrous self.

Am I the only person in the Universe who hated this grim clichefest of a movie? Full of gangrenous, decaying ham, tiresomely twee, this horror ends up celebrating the ghastliest form of luvviedom that it should be sending up. The real mystery is how come so many people liked it. Is it the case that there are a lots of Americans out there who are taken in by this poor-man's Ealing-comedy as something terribly, authentically, 'English'? Could it be that having Kenneth Branagh in it is enough? No idea why this should be - the man is a booming, ghastly luvvie who can't act and can't direct. It was billed I seem to remember as a 'gentle comedy', two of the most terrifying words in the English language. Terrible terrible terrible. No more needs to be said.

To see Hamlet, you can see Branagh's celebrated production starring himself, John Gielgud, Derek Jacobi, Julie Christie, etc etc. And it is, in and of itself, a treat.Far better though to choose this unheralded gem, and see how Shakespeare really has an impact on people.The enthusiasm is palpable. "It changed my LIFE", Joe protests to his sister Molly in defending his decision to stage Hamlet, and indeed, you can't help but see his point. When the play cuts "too close to the bone" for Terry, for example, reminding him of his dysfunctional family situation. Or when the audience gasps in horror or delight during the actual production of the play.Branagh and the actors here really, truly believe that Hamlet is alive and relevant, even today; and watching this quite wonderful film, it is hard to disagree. Watch it to see Hamlet not for itself (Branagh's production, or Olivier, or numerous other spectacles will give you that), but for how it matters to us even today, and to understand why low-paid or unpaid actors are nevertheless willing to give 132% to present it all to us.

A perfect little movie, this tale of provincial actors struggling to deliver a production of Hamlet is one that will cheer your Bleak Midwinter if you have any heart whatsoever. Definitely under-rated and one of Branagh's best, it is simply and effectively photographed in black and white, and features a witty, amusing, and at times, hilarious script performed by a stand-out ensemble cast. Although its tale of backstage trials and tribulations will not appeal to all tastes, there is a lot of subtlety and truthfulness to the gentle, genuine sentiment on offer here. Among very few false notes, only Jennifer Saunder's dire caricature as a Hollywood producer really disappoints. The rest of the cast are just terrific. Almost as good a Christmas movie as It's a Wonderful Life, I recommend it.

I saw this is France in midsummer. It was a profound embarrassment, especially as the French audience saw it (like many other reviewers here) as a "charming little film" that essentialises their perception of Englishness. This is correct only if you accept that England is entirely populated by middle class amateur dramatists. I warn you now, this film features the most punchable cast in all British cinema of the 90s: Michael Maloney, who's jaw-droppingly excruciating performance in 'Truly Madly Deeply' will not be forgotten on Judgement Day; Richard Briers, who desperately wants his son to love him despite his homosexuality, resulting in an astonishingly lame reunion scene at the end. Briers plays the straightest gay man ever, but still manages to fall back into shocking tics of campness. The less said about Julia Sawalha, Celia Imrie and Jennifer Saunders' "hilarious" cameo the better. Let's face it, this cast is just Branagh's chums having a private love-in. And Branagh, as temporarily blind critics and audiences will one day realise, is the man who has managed to churn out a whole series of Shakespeare adaptations which strip the original texts of all their allegorical, subtextual or political functions in his quest to make them "accessible". Is anyone else patronised by the fact that the boy thinks that the most widely-read author in history needs to be made "accessible"? And how appropriate that, with this film, he should find empathy with a group of talentless amateurs, secretly yearning to crack Hollywood, who reduce Shakespearean tragedy to a stilted pile of family entertainment. RICHARD BRIERS: Ken, where are you? KENNETH BRANAGH: I'm in the kitchen. RICHARD BRIERS: Can I be in it too?