I'm absolutely dumbstruck by some of the reviews I've read here. The only explanation I can come up with is that most reviewers are unfamiliar with the historic Giacomo Casanova, and have never seen any of the vastly superior treatments of his story (such as "La Nuit de Varennes"). One of the reviewers even describes it as being about a man from the "17th century". Off by a hundred years, I'm afraid, which is roughly as far off as this movie is from either a well-done biographical film or a historically-accurate one. No, it's Hollywood (or rather, the British approximation of it) through and through.
This version is, in reality, a "Casanova" for the "Sex and the City" and "Men Behaving Badly" crowd; all winks and nudges and brash cheekiness. David Tenant is amusing, but absolutely lacking in charisma or depth, much less skill. In fact, he bears an uncanny resemblance to the bumbling characters that Eric Idle used to play. Peter O'Toole does an over-the-top caricature of himself; a role he seems to have been relegated to for the past 25 years. Sad, really. The rest of the cast seems to have been assembled from whoever was hanging around the studio that day, as they obviously weren't chosen for their verisimilitude or subtlety.
But the story is far the worst thing about this flick. The dialog is farcical, the plot is boilerplate, there are countless historical mistakes. For example, Casanova fires a pistol into the air to threaten a group of men, and says he'll shoot them next. Problem is, all pistols were single-shot for another hundred years; it would've actually taken him another 2 minutes to reload another shot; any man of the time would've known that! They also dance the waltz; something that didn't appear in Venice for another 50 years. I was surprised to not see Casanova riding a motorcycle while chatting on his mobile phone.
"Casanova" isn't above trying to titillate by teasing us with an "is she/isn't she" shtick about a mulatto castrato that Casanova "falls in love with". But of course, after playing around with the faux-mosexual aspect, surprise! -it's a girl after all, so the audience can all heave a sigh of relief at Casanova's good fortune. But the real Casanova was well-known to be bisexual (look it up on Wikipedia), although actually having the nerve to show that here seems to be beyond the film-maker's integrity, the audience's stomach, or (most likely) both.
The dialog swings between maudlin (when Casanova offers to rescue his prison cell-mate, he responds "but I can't leave; this is my home!") and stand-up comedy, as when Casanova makes his confession and rattles off a laundry list of the women he's slept with ("two sisters, at the same time. Many times. But at least I didn't sleep with their mother. Although I've done that. Many times. So sorry.") And I mustn't forget to mention that the sappy string synthesizers in the incidental music would be right at home in a third-rate soap opera. It's sad to see "Casanova" dumbed down this far. It's sadder still to see it overpraised by people who don't know the historic and literary Giacomo Casanova from Nathan Barley.
This version is, in reality, a "Casanova" for the "Sex and the City" and "Men Behaving Badly" crowd; all winks and nudges and brash cheekiness. David Tenant is amusing, but absolutely lacking in charisma or depth, much less skill. In fact, he bears an uncanny resemblance to the bumbling characters that Eric Idle used to play. Peter O'Toole does an over-the-top caricature of himself; a role he seems to have been relegated to for the past 25 years. Sad, really. The rest of the cast seems to have been assembled from whoever was hanging around the studio that day, as they obviously weren't chosen for their verisimilitude or subtlety.
But the story is far the worst thing about this flick. The dialog is farcical, the plot is boilerplate, there are countless historical mistakes. For example, Casanova fires a pistol into the air to threaten a group of men, and says he'll shoot them next. Problem is, all pistols were single-shot for another hundred years; it would've actually taken him another 2 minutes to reload another shot; any man of the time would've known that! They also dance the waltz; something that didn't appear in Venice for another 50 years. I was surprised to not see Casanova riding a motorcycle while chatting on his mobile phone.
"Casanova" isn't above trying to titillate by teasing us with an "is she/isn't she" shtick about a mulatto castrato that Casanova "falls in love with". But of course, after playing around with the faux-mosexual aspect, surprise! -it's a girl after all, so the audience can all heave a sigh of relief at Casanova's good fortune. But the real Casanova was well-known to be bisexual (look it up on Wikipedia), although actually having the nerve to show that here seems to be beyond the film-maker's integrity, the audience's stomach, or (most likely) both.
The dialog swings between maudlin (when Casanova offers to rescue his prison cell-mate, he responds "but I can't leave; this is my home!") and stand-up comedy, as when Casanova makes his confession and rattles off a laundry list of the women he's slept with ("two sisters, at the same time. Many times. But at least I didn't sleep with their mother. Although I've done that. Many times. So sorry.") And I mustn't forget to mention that the sappy string synthesizers in the incidental music would be right at home in a third-rate soap opera. It's sad to see "Casanova" dumbed down this far. It's sadder still to see it overpraised by people who don't know the historic and literary Giacomo Casanova from Nathan Barley.