Anonymous movie

There are great moments in Anonymous, from its arresting opening scene (with Derek Jacobi rushing into a Broadway theater and striding directly onstage) to recreations of the first performances ever given of Henry V and Hamlet before a spellbound throng of groundlings. I, too, was captivated during those thrilling scenes, which is why it’s so frustrating that Anonymous nearly drowns itself in a sea of confusion.

Because no one wants to tell a story in chronological order any more, this saga hopscotches back and forth through three separate time periods (not counting the modern-day framing device with Jacobi). I know this because we see David Thewlis as Queen Elizabeth’s advisor William Cecil in three different makeups: as a middle-aged man, then older, then elderly. It’s easy to keep track of the Queen because she’s played in the two later stages of life by the magnificent—
Director Roland Emmerich, who’s best known for such apocalyptic epics as Independence Day and 2012, has done an excellent job of recreating 17th century England and making us feel as if we’re there, whether we’re watching men carefully walk on planks to avoid the muddy streets or witnessing the first utterances of the immortal characters from Romeo and Juliet on an open-air stage. (Vast overhead shots of London, especially those showing the Globe Theater, are so realistic that I find them vexing—like watching a magician perform an “impossible” trick and concentrating on how he did it rather than enjoying the illusion.)
As imagined in "Anonymous," William Shakespeare was an illiterate actor, barely able to write his name, much less a sonnet, and an opportunist with an outsized ego, all of which actor Rafe Spall ("Shaun of the Dead," "Hot Fuzz") handles nicely. The real playwright and poet was Edward De Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, who for complicated reasons needs a front man for his work. De Vere is played with great aplomb by Ifans, unrecognizable from his naked "Notting Hill" days, in fact unrecognizable from anything he's ever done. Let us just point out that he does Elizabethan aristocracy very well indeed.

A noted writing contemporary of Shakespeare's, Ben Jonson (Sebastian Armesto, excellent in his creative frustration), is the man De Vere ultimately entrusts with his plays and with carrying out what really is — if it is — one of the greatest ruses ever. For all the royal betrayals, one of the rather delicious subtexts is that fights between writers for literary supremacy are just as deadly as struggles for the crown.
But vivid atmosphere and fine performances can’t salvage this long, ultimately ponderous production. If only the script had been simplified—perhaps I should say clarified—and shortened this could have been a smashing film. Instead, it’s a major disappointment.
Rhys Ifans plays Edward De Vere, the Earl of Oxford, who arranges for his plays to be produced on stage, where they are credited to a somewhat screwloose actor named Will Shakespeare, played with brio by Rafe Spall. This is not the Earl’s doing, as his choice for “front man” is struggling playwright Ben Jonson (Sebastian Armesto), but that’s one of the film’s many twists.