Entertaining as hell to watch, the visuals, dialogue, and performance by Paul Scofield are particularly delicious. You should especially watch it if you're simply in the mood to watch Robert Shaw, as Henry VIII, lose his shit.
Six Academy awards and four Golden Globes. This is solid stuff. Thomas More, the firm Honest Man, against Henry VIII and his weathercocks. I like a lot the way Fred Zinnemann describes this antagonism by opposing during the whole film More's well-grounded mansion and Henry VIII's frail barks. Note how much the director insists on Henry VIII and his sycophants' difficulty to reach the riverside. Highly recommended.
Well acted, mainly, but the filmmaking is pedestrian, at best. And expecting me to feel pity for Thomas More being hideously executed when he'd himself had so many others executed for such hideous crimes as owning English language versions of the Bible doesn't exactly work.
Splendid, consistent, conscientious, real, and perfectly stoic, just like its hero. Scofield, with that inimitable voice, is perfect in one of the most exquisitely controlled performances ever filmed. Hurt was a real find, perfectly despicable as he grasps blindly for a conscience, and Hiller lends the right note of gruff acidity to balance her almost maddeningly even-keeled husband. Beautifully shot outdoor scenes.
More's story is incredible and immensely inspirational, but I've never been able to call myself a fan of this film. The dialogue is flowery and the tone is ceaselessly formal, to the point where it lessens the emotional impact that the story should have. I've never cared for Scofield faux-Shakespearian approach to his performance, and I found Shaw's acting to be erratic and hammy.