Handmade films are a special lot.
Every time I watch this film, I feel like I’ve lost a best friend. I waver like a photon, unable to decide if I’m a wave (Withnail) or a particle (I). In the end, the rain decides for me.
Watch this film, for the Shakespeare alone!
I have of late, (but wherefore I know not) lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition; that this goodly frame the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’er hanging firmament, this majestical roof, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeareth no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man, How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, In form and moving how express and admirable, In action how like an Angel, In apprehension how like a god, The beauty of the world, The paragon of animals. And yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me; no, nor Woman neither; though by your smiling you seem to say so.
Hamlet, Act 2 Scene 2
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