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8.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 8.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Hamlet, Act I: Scenes IV and V remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a thing for old Hollywood curiosities or you just really like watching John Barrymore work through a script, sure. If you aren't into theater-on-film or 1930s lighting, you'll probably find this dry as toast.
It’s barely a movie, really. It’s a screen test. It feels like someone turned on a camera in a dusty attic to see if the colors would hold up. The whole thing has this weird, ghostly quality—fitting, given the subject matter.
John Barrymore is doing that thing he does. You know, the heavy breathing, the intense staring. He’s really trying to sell the terror of seeing his father’s spirit. Sometimes he overdoes it, but you can’t look away. It reminds me a bit of the frantic energy you see in What Price Hollywood? where the acting feels like it’s vibrating off the frame.
The Technicolor here is… well, it’s early. It’s not the bright, candy-colored stuff you think of later. It’s muddy. It’s brownish. The shadows feel like they’re actually going to swallow the actors whole. It makes the Ghost scene feel almost claustrophobic.
There’s this moment where Barrymore is just standing there, listening to the Ghost, and he looks genuinely tired. Not 'actor tired,' but like he’s actually been through a long night on the ramparts. It’s a tiny detail, but it makes the whole thing feel less like a stuffy play and more like a real person losing their mind.
It’s not perfect. The pacing is weird. It stops and starts like a car with a bad transmission. But honestly? I’d rather watch this than some polished, boring modern adaptation that spends too much on CGI fog.
It’s not a film you analyze. You just kind of sit there and let it happen. Then it ends, and you feel like you’ve been somewhere else for ten minutes. That’s enough for me. 👻