Anonymous (2011)

I’ve long admired Roland Emmerich much more than I probably should, simply because I’ve felt he has a way of presenting large-scale action that is far more palatable than many other similar directors. Where many make action feel as frenetic and dizzying as possible, Emmerich usually settles for longer shots that let the epic disaster of an Independence Day or 2012 sink in rather than making it difficult to follow. That’s one reason why Anonymous is such a curious fit for Emmerich; it’s a character-driven story about the royalty of Elizabethan England with very little actual action or scale to speak of. Even in his better films, character was never Emmerich’s strong suit. I sign up for his films because I want to see things explode real good, not because I want to watch a bunch of royals and elites bicker at each other. Worse yet, the central conceit of Anonymous is that William Shakespeare did not write his plays and poems; a ridiculous and borderline offensive mentality that immediately renders the entire project problematic. Anonymous is a handsome film, but it’s also unforgivably trite and wrongheaded. This is as close as Emmerich will get to a prestige film, and I’m glad this is out of his system so he can go back to the land of full-on schlock, in which he is far more comfortable.

Who is the author of Shakespeare’s works, according to Anonymous? None other than Edward de Vere (Rhys Ifans), the 17^th Earl of Oxford. You see, it makes sense because he is educated, as it is preposterous that someone “of the streets” could write anything of artistic merit. Shakespeare’s plays are obviously the work of a genius, and genius must come from wealth and education, right? The poor can never amount to anything! (Eye roll.) Edward de Vere—fearing what his family will think of his art—decides to hand the plays off to full-time playwright Ben Jonson (Sebastian Armesto), but ultimately credit for the works is taken by the drunken actor William Shakespeare (Rafe Spall). Also, there is the queen played by Vanessa Redgrave and William Cecil, who is portrayed by David Thewlis. I’m not going to bother explaining everything that happens, because Anonymous sloppily jumps from era to era without giving the audience much of a chance to orient themselves. There are tons of characters introduced, but none of them are memorable in the least, and thus it’s near impossible to remember who’s who. Anonymous has many problems; all compounded by the fact it’s all so confusing.

Whenever the question of Shakespearian authorship comes up, Anonymous is just about intolerable. The list of historical inaccuracies seen here is endless, and the very notion of anti-Stratfordianism is enough to fill me with instant rage. The film is slightly—though not wholly—more interesting when dealing with the plight of de Vere and his royal family. This is still a dumb movie feigning intelligence, but at least the conflicts carry some actual weight and the story isn’t completely full of it like the rest of the film. Of course, it loses all credibility whenever de Vere pulls a play out of his back pocket and gives it to Jonson to perform. (“Ah! Julius Caesar! Look what I had just lying around!”) It’s a potentially—potentially—fascinating costume drama completely derailed by an infuriating anti-Stratfordian subplot, but it’s still too lifeless to be wholly forgiven.

Emmerich has done himself no favors in the promotion of the film; he’s talked much about how he’s never particularly liked Shakespeare, and in his research for Anonymous he’s become convinced that he was, indeed, a fraud. (Boo, Shakespeare! But the script for 2012, that’s gold!) He’s carried himself with an arrogance similar to JFK-era Oliver Stone, which indicates he’s convinced that his film is the absolute truth that moviegoers have been waiting for. The key difference? JFK is a great, thrilling movie, regardless of the facts. Anonymous is mostly a slog that is far less convincing when it comes to the issue of its central conspiracy. This is a film that takes a firm stance about “art,” but that’s pretty laughable when your director is a guy who is famous for brain-dead blockbusters. Anonymous isn’t the intelligent provocation that it aspires to be. Instead, it spends its time alternately irritating and boring the audience.

Grade: C-