How are you supposed to react when a character in a book says they want to rob Led Zeppelin? It’s easy to get used to characters robbing banks, or multinational corporations, but one does not simply rob Led Zeppelin.

As the characters are all introduced, it becomes clear that they’ve all been named after various guitarists: Pete Townshend, Keith Richards, Pat Metheny, so on. It’s clever, considering the entire book circles around rock and roll.

It’s obvious the book is about a bunch of kids with famous guitarists’ names robbing Led Zeppelin; a band that the author, Jason Buhrmester, constantly reminds us robbed many musical ideas from older artists. The irony is difficult to miss.

            That could probably be said in less than 200 pages. “Black Dogs” draws itself out for hours. It gets difficult to follow. It’s hard to tell if the characters are talking about music or talking about their latest heist. Eventually, the plot gets even murkier. Soon, a dude that opens up safes gets involved, and he has a band of his own as well. The characters argue about the safe and their heist, and then the conversation suddenly turns to arguing about music.

            It’s understandable that the book is about the relationship between common thieves and music, but it’s hard to believe that a bunch of kids could pull off half of the heists they pulled. It boils down to the suspension of disbelief, which is something that “Black Dogs” never accomplishes.

Coriolanus

             If a film is not relevant, it will fail.  How do you keep the audience interested in Shakespeare, particularly when it comes to one of his more obscure works, Coriolanus, written about four hundred years ago? One of the most notable adaptations of Shakespeare to the screen in the past twenty years would be Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet (1996), which saw widespread success. Romeo + Juliet starred Leonardo de Caprio and Clare Danes as the title characters and had the overall feel of a music video. Baz Luhrmann succeeded at making eye candy for the audience, which is vital when selling a film to a society that prefers dubbed versions of films than having to read subtitles. Shakespeare’s English can be as difficult to understand as a foreign language, making it that much more important to maintain some degree of relevance to modern day issues.

            Once again, the question is raised: how do you make a work that’s four hundred years old, relevant? First time director, Ralph Fiennes, figured it out. Coriolanus is a story of democracy, pride, and betrayal. The film opens with footage of riots and protests in opposition to Caius Martius, played by Fiennes.  The people blame Martius for withholding grain stock from them.  The feeling of despair from the average citizen is amazingly similar to TIME’s Man of the Year, the protester.

            Caius Martius finds himself incapable of relating to the citizens of Rome. His distaste of democracy is evident when he compares it to “allowing the crows to peck at the eagles.” There is no doubt Martius is a terrible politician. It’s only through flattery that he manages to gain his post as consul, and that leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Many of the things Martius says of the common people are alarmingly similar to a certain American politician’s allegations that “corporation’s are people” and his dismissal of certain protest movements as “inciting a class war.” It’s moments like these that make Coriolanus seem real.

            Additionally, the film was shot on 2-perf 35mm film, giving it a very grainy look, which lends itself well to the documentary-style cinematography. The camera moves a lot in the film, which draws the audience in further, pulling them into the action. Fiennes made use of 360° sets, so the camera was able to point in any direction. These large sets make Coriolanus feel much more real and less like a stage play. The costuming plays an additionally important role in the design of the film. Though it takes place in Rome, Fiennes decided to don camouflage instead of Roman armor. A few Apple products can be spotted throughout the film, as well as spectators recording important speeches on their phones.

            Fiennes gives us a very bloody Coriolanus—one that does not hold back to the viewing audience. Fiennes’ directorial debut will go down as one of the best modern adaptation of Shakespeare to date, giving a film that, while maintaining its modern twist, isn’t afraid to go all Shakespeare on you.  How many other films have a crazed blood-covered General emerge from the ruins of a building and start reciting Shakespeare?