Is it me?
Being a fan of Shakespeare and loving the printed work as much as the cinematic representation, I buy the bard's work sight unseen. I expect a level of professionalism and decency not evident in other contemporary films. You can imagine friends, my utter horror and strangely erotic find of Olivier's man boob in the film, clearly (and lovely) seen at 1:47:33-35. The obscene titty juggles for two seconds while I, agape in awe and ecstasy, curse perversion and disrobe in my heated passion. Is this the “special” edition? Is that Diana Rigg’s lovely orb? Am I gay?
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