"Richard III," on these terms, achieves a powerful brew, and from the famed first monologue ("Now is the winter of our discontent...") Olivier fuses his performer's instinct with his director's intelligence. At the fifteenth-century coronation of Richard's brother, Edward IV, sumptuous color reigns -- the royal blues and crimsons of court standards, rich, velvety capes in navy and plum. Yet Richard is as dark as night, his chin-length, jet-black hair framing a ghostly face and cold eyes. He plots to seize the crown by any means necessary. "I am determined to prove the villain," he sneers.
As Amy Taubin notes in her liner notes for the film, the explanatory titles acknowledge that the real Richard III -- recently unearthed under a Leicester parking lot -- was a more complicated figure than the play portrays. But Olivier's more interested in exploring the roots of evil, and so, as the king's party departs, we're left with him in the dim palace hall. In a bravura gambit, he inches closer -- hobbling, "deform'd, unfinish'd" -- and looks us squarely in the eye. The camera becomes confidant, and we're suddenly complicit in what's coming. With cinema Olivier discovers how to sell the myth, which is just what Shakespeare was after.