Sir Ian McKellen's Richard III (I say that to distinguish it from Lord Olivier's classic treatment, which it resembles not at all), bears his stamp on the film's every bloody frame.

Olivier's Richard III is considered by many not only to be the definitive Richard, but also one of the definitive examples of Shakespeare on film. Olivier's version may certainly not fear being knocked out of its privileged position on the first count, but it should on the second. For this new Richard, as directed by Richard Loncraine, is a terrifically entertaining movie, that, unlike Olivier's version, truly looks and feels like a movie. And a gorgeous one at that. Its production design is as sumptuous as it is exquisite, owing in no small part to the film's central conceit: its speculated 1930's fascist England setting. And it moves. Its less than two-hour running time has ensured generous cuts in the text, and I must confess to being skeptical going in, but, praise be Richard, it really works. This Richard III is utterly cinematic, no small feat for Shakespeare on film.

Then there's Sir Ian himself, whose masterful performance is positively gleeful. Who'd've thunk Shakespeare -- one of the history plays, no less -- could be so much fun? In fact, I saw McKellen's Richard on stage in Richard Eyre's Royal National Theatre production from which this film is taken, and I didn't like it nearly as much. Now, McKellen has brought much more humor to the role, and in tandem with director Loncraine (with whom McKellen co- wrote the screenplay), he has translated that aspect into purely cinematic terms as a fundamental part of the film's design. This Richard constantly looks straight into the camera and comments directly to the audience with a dry, razor-sharp sarcasm. Long takes of regular dialogue, often accompanied by an elegantly tracking camera, are constantly interrupted in this manner. It's all remarkably similar to House of Cards, the British TV mini-series of a few years back, in which another great Ian of the British stage, Ian Richardson, also punctuated his Machiavellian rise to power by constant, gleeful asides into the camera. In both cases, the effect is seductive, spine-tingling, and often quite hilarious. In this film, just check out Sir Ian's delivery of the simple line "I am not made of stones," as he fakes being talked into accepting the Crown.

Oh--! I didn't mention the plot? If you don't know it by now, get thee to your Cliff Notes, and quickly.