I'll come right out and say it  not everything Shakespeare ever wrote is a gem that needs to be enshrined forever. What's more, most movies of Shakespeare plays are even worse; they're either faux-stagey, as if the actors wish you to keep in mind that this is Shakespeare, for God's sake, or they go the other way and become overly artsy. I only own a few on them on disc (Ken Branagh's Much Ado and Henry V, where the tongue-twisting dialogue flows so effortlessly it appears to be ad-libbed), as most of the versions I have encountered are artless train wrecks; even Orson Welles' Othello is to my mind wince-worthy.<br /><br />I tried this version out solely because Diana Rigg was in it. Granted, so was the rest of the Royal Shakespeare Company circa 1968, an impressive list (Ian Holm, David Warner, Helen Mirren, Judi Densch, etc.); and this is a difficult play to do well because its plot is so hoary, and the play-within-the-play so tedious, that these actors can hardly be held accountable for the bard's sins.<br /><br />Not that they don't make enough of their own, however. Central to the film's weakness is that it can't figure out its own identity. There is a stab at period costume here and there, but then Rigg shows up in suede go-go boots (not to mention Queen Hippolyta in a leather dress and thigh boots). The story is set in Athens, but the landscape (at least they didn't use a soundstage) is Tudor England, as are whatever costumes attempt to be period (the period of Shakespeare, not Athens). The film takes place almost wholly outside, which is a relief, but unlike, say, Branagh's Much Ado, which takes advantage of some gorgeous Tuscan landscape, most of the time here we are treated to some non-descript copses of trees. Add to that budgetary problems  Puck, Oberon, and gang appear as green-tinted hippies, with their faces not even matching the hue of their bodies  and you have a production that is easier to laugh at than with.<br /><br />Most of the actors give it their all, but most of them appear miscast. Rigg is far too old and worldly for the dopey Helena, and Derek Godfrey's Theseus seems more like a baron in some Russian novel (though admittedly I kept getting distracted by his helmet-head bouffant). You'll see a lot more of Judi Densch than you ever wanted to, as her costume amounts to green paint and teeny pasties. I did like Warner's Lysander, who appeared the most natural of the four young lovers, and Ian Holm's Puck, but it's impossible not to enjoy a Holm performance.<br /><br />I tend to think Shakespeare movies tell you more about the period when they are made rather than when they are set (much like the plays themselves), and this one is no different. Part old school, part hippie romp, the film unintentionally reflects the chaos of the late sixties, of a cultural shift, or wanting to take something classic and make it new but unfortunately having no idea how. The end result is a lurching effect, its low budget and low-tech seeming impossibly crude to viewers used to spectacles such as Lord of the Rings (even Xena's make-up jobs would make these look silly). It's interesting as a novelty piece to look at where Shakespeare presentations were, and where they were aiming to be, four decades ago; certainly we have a different emphasis now, as actors forty years from now will no doubt reinterpret the bard in their own fashion (android Iago?). For all but a die-hard fan of any of the regulars or of Shakespeare's work, though, this film is a pass. It did, however, help shed light on why a talented actress who was part of the Royal Shakespeare company for many years is chiefly remembered for judo kicks and leather catsuits.