Kenneth Branagh acted in and directed more Shakespeare plays than any other filmmaker before him; yet he also defied what was expected from a Shakespearean actor-director. First, he used the codes of Hollywood cinema to make the plays entertaining and available to a younger, more popular audience. Second, he not only adapted Shakespeare but also ventured into directing Hollywood blockbusters, as well as more intimate projects on stage and screen, injecting Shakespearean echoes into a new range of productions. Through his taste for popular, mainstream movies, his bold self-made trajectory that carried him repeatedly in and out of the ‘Establishment’, Branagh has contributed to redefining relations between Shakespeare and Hollywood, between the art house and the multiplex, and between theatre and cinema. Through his ceaselessly renewed ‘vaulting ambition’ of bringing Shakespeare to the people, Branagh has constructed over the years the ideologically complex persona of a working-class Shakespearean entrepreneur.

This chapter explores Zeffirelli’s three Shakespearean films, The Taming of the Shrew (1967), Romeo and Juliet (1968) and Hamlet (1990), well known for the visual banquets they constitute, the memorable soundscapes they feature and their stimulating casting choices. The purpose of this chapter is to suggest that, as designer and director, Zeffirelli has managed to combine movement and fixity, so that these films can be regarded as living monuments. Far from being mere visual decoration, the designs that are at the heart of Zeffirelli’s films are infused with life and reinvigorate the vision of the plays. Analysing ‘household stuff’ coming to life in The Taming of the Shrew, the battle of energies in Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet’s labyrinth of fury, the chapter shows how the architecture and design of the films make them monuments. There is a lot of art in this matter. There is a lot of life in these monuments.

This chapter situates Franz Rosenzweig’s unique and influential contributions to Jewish theology in his Christian historicist and philosophical context of modern European civilization. Doing so allows us to best understand his theological contributions with the interdependent two-fold Jewish exilic tradition of interpreting the Torah as an engaged, dialectical response from the dual perspectives of the living Scriptural authority of their respective communities of faith and the non-Jewish and increasingly secular contexts in which they found themselves. The chapter unfolds as an interpretation that is based on Rosenzweig’s introduction of a novel methodological speech-act philosophy that he calls New Thinking which takes shape in the midrashic form of a messianic aesthetics. Simon claims that this approach enables Rosenzweig to set out a normative guide of teaching-as-practice throughout the entirety of The Star of Redemption, in order to bring the structures of the inter-related processes of Creation, Revelation, and Redemption into functional and dynamic ethical relations.

In this essay I survey the development of the Kabbalistic Godhead; exploring sources from the Hebrew Bible, through rabbinic literature and medieval Jewish philosophy, and culminating in thirteen century kabbalah and the Zohar. Following this discussion, I discuss primary theological elements incorporated within this conception, such as the understanding of the ten sefirot, which comprise the Godhead, the mystical understanding of the Tetragrammaton as correlating to the divine essence, God’s identification with the Torah and commandments, and the feminine element of the Godhead. This examination of the configuration of the Godhead and its various elements naturally leads to a discussion of the “complex unity” of God. In this examination I discuss the relation of different divine persona within the Godhead, the evil or demonic element of the Godhead, and lastly the differing conceptions of the Godhead as a kataphatic or apophatic entity. Finally, I examine the phenomenon of mystical union between the human being and the Godhead.

This chapter explores representations of fantasy and romance in Anglo-American screen productions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Tempest. It is particularly concerned with how filmmakers of these plays make the fantastical and the romantic believable yet sufficiently otherworldly. Films of A Midsummer Night’s Dream discussed include those by directors Max Reinhardt and William Dieterle (1935), Peter Hall (1968), Adrian Noble (1996), and Michael Hoffman (1999). Each uses numerous elements from the cinematic toolbox to create plausible versions of Shakespeare’s faerie world. Films of The Tempest considered include those by Derek Jarman (1979) and Julie Taymor (2010). Airy spirit that he is, Ariel in The Tempest is kin to the fairies of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Thus directors of The Tempest are faced with similar challenges of crafting verisimilitude as their counterparts face working on A Midsummer Night’s Dream; each meets those challenges with their idiosyncratic aplomb that does justice to Shakespeare.

This essay advocates that “theology” as “God-talk” is endemic to Jewish discourse throughout the ages. Jewish theology is a dialectic between prescriptive halakhah or law on one side, and descriptive aggadah or narration on the other side. While the term “theology” itself is usually taken to mean human talk about God, Jewish “theology” as the explication of God’s revealed word (dvar Adonai) means, as Abraham Joshua Heschel (the foremost 20th century Jewish theologian) put it, “God’s anthropology.” Thus Jewish theology is the explication of what Jews have accepted as revealed truth, namely, what God wants humans to know of God’s concern for them as evidenced in history, and what God wants humans to do in response to God’s concern for them.

This paper considers the question of whether it is possible to say anything positive about God. The usual reason for answering yes is that God must be a person to be a perfect being. I investigate this claim by defining personhood in terms of knowledge and will. After looking at the theologies of Maimonides, Kant, and Cohen, I conclude that while we can say positive things about God, we must sacrifice a certain amount of conceptual rigor to do so.

On the nature of linguistic skillsets in the later Middle Ages as critical to understanding the appearance of particular vernacular and Latin texts – often incorporated in manuscripts as additions or glosses – and categorized by scholars in ways that do not fully recognize the broad spectrum of linguistic possibility and permeability in this period.

The chapter considers several directions through the field of Shakespeare and world cinema while acknowledging that no one interpretive method can do justice to the variety of filmic engagements with the dramatist’s work across the globe. Accordingly, this chapter looks at films from Africa, Brazil, Germany, India, Japan, Malaysia, Russia, Slovakia, Spain and Thailand in terms of a range of approaches the auteur approach, regional perspectives, time-bound moments of production and reception, the woman practitioner, and the place of particular plays in the adaptive process. It attends to the adaptations of auteurs such as Vishal Bhardwaj, Grigori Kozintsev and Akira Kurosawa and, at the same time, introduces readers to diverse adaptations of Hamlet, Macbeth, The Merry Wives of Windsor, Othello and Romeo and Juliet, thereby making visible the methodological challenges and joys necessarily entailed in any encounter with world Shakespeare.

Every judge who judges with complete fairness even for a single hour, the Writ gives him credit as though he had become a partner to the Holy One, blessed be He, in the creation.(BT Shabbat 10a)

In acting and judging with fairness—in applying the law in an impartial and equitable way—a judge models himself on divine creation. In this chapter, I interpret this rabbinic dictum along Maimonidean lines, drawing in part on some of Maimonides’ own views on creation and Mosaic prophecy. In the second part of the Guide Maimonides draws close connections between the two topics, and I help myself to that in presenting my own discussion of the aforementioned rabbinic dictum. The chapter proceeds in three sections, over the course of which I am concerned with teasing out the juridical analogy in a variety of ways: morphologically/structurally, psychologically, and finally teleologically.

This chapter considers the ways in which filmmakers have established the ‘tragic universe’ in screen adaptations of Hamlet, King Lear and Macbeth, through attention to the environment. Filmmakers repeatedly foreground the interplay between human body, physical surroundings and filmic space in ways that foreground the tragic environment as subjectively experienced and produced, and in turn see that environment producing and influencing its human subjects. The chapter moves between three kinds of tragic environment. The open spaces of films by Akira Kurosawa, Roman Polanski, Justin Kurzel, and Grigori Kozintsev frame human conflict within the natural world, a world that often suffers ecological catastrophe alongside its inhabitants, but which also endures. Another strand of films, including work by Michael Almereyda, Penny Woolcock, Don Boyd and Vishal Bhardwaj, establishes urban environments that privilege an interpretive focus on community, claustrophobia, consumption, and class. Finally, other filmmakers from Laurence Olivier to Kit Monkman, as well as directors of stage-to-screen adaptations, utilise cinematic technique to foreground inner psychological space, with environments constructed subjectively around their protagonists.

I argue that a traditional Jewish conception of God should be that of a perfectly good being. This follows from the demand for our maximal love of God. A perfectly good being must have a perfectly good character and need have power and knowledge only to the degree needed to express its perfectly good character. It need not be omnipotent or omniscient. It would be eternal and creator and sustainer of the world. It is an open question whether God must be a metaphysically necessary being.