Looking back at the 1996 cinematic retelling that defined a generation.

Over the years, Romeo and Juliet has had several different movie adaptations. What makes Baz Luhrmann’s vision unique is how it took elements of Shakespeare’s original story and placed them in a 1990s setting, transforming the feud between the Montagues and Capulets into a violent gang war. By blending Shakespeare’s classic tragedy of forbidden love with contemporary violence, Luhrmann offers a distinctive approach that explores the fatal consequences of feuds and rivalries.

Breathing Life Into Shakespeare’s Characters

Leonardo DiCaprio does a great job capturing Romeo’s youthfulness and vulnerability, especially amid the hostile conflict between his family and Juliet’s. Although his character behaves like a 1990s adolescent, he manages to stay true to Shakespeare’s original characterization.

As for Claire Danes, her portrayal of Juliet as a love-stricken yet heartbroken young woman is on point. Danes being older than Juliet in the original play adds an interesting dimension because the film presents their romance as two adolescents falling in love despite the hostility surrounding them, rather than showing importance to their age gap. Juliet is approximately 13 years old in Shakespeare’s original play, although Romeo’s exact age is not established.

Paul Sorvino and Brian Dennehy do a good job portraying the patriarchs of the Montague and Capulet households, respectively. Interestingly, when I rewatched the film (I first saw it during my freshman year of high school), I noticed that although the two actors share the screen, they never speak to each other, which makes their mutual animosity feel real.

John Leguizamo portrays Tybalt as an angry, hot-headed person. His intimidating gangster appearance and facial expressions make him particularly memorable during a shootout with the Montagues.

Vondie Curtis-Hall portrays Police Chief Escalaus with a sense of authority. Just like his original counterpart, he’s had enough of the constant violence in the streets and tells Montague and Capulet to knock it off or face the consequences.

Finally, Pete Postlethwaite portrays Friar Laurence as a sympathetic figure who wants to help Romeo and Juliet. His willingness to support their relationship demonstrates his hope that their love might finally end the blood feud between their families.

Love, Violence, and Fate: Moments That Defined The Film

The opening shootout between Tybalt’s gang and Benvolio’s gang at the gas station, rather than a traditional sword fight, gives off a 90s gangster vibe. What’s even more fascinating is that the guns are engraved with names associated with Shakespeare’s original weapons, such as Sword, Dagger, and Rapier. It demonstrates the ingenuity of Baz Luhrmann adding a contemporary twist to Shakespeare’s original play.

Romeo and Juliet falling in love at first sight at the party, especially after seeing each other through a fish tank, shows that their families’ rivalry does not define their feelings for one another. However, Romeo must escape from the Capulet mansion because, if he’s caught, he could face the consequences. This symbolizes the risks people take when they fall in love with someone their family or faction hates. The fish tank also creates a memorable visual moment, separating them from the party around them.

When Father Laurence gives Juliet a potion to fake her death, he’s feeling sorry for her because Juliet is forced to abide by her parents’ wishes. This shows the great lengths people are willing to go in pursuit of happiness and personal autonomy. It also shows what can happen when people are pressured into living according to someone else’s expectations.

Finally, when Romeo kills Tybalt, he’s acting out of rage and vengeance for his friend Mercutio. Rather than thinking about the consequences, Romeo allows his emotions to take control. This moment marks a turning point in the story and how the tragedy becomes increasingly difficult to avoid.

How Luhrmann’s Vision Stays Faithful To The Source Material and Where it Differs

When looking back at Shakespeare’s original text, one major difference stands out involving Paris. In the original play, Paris visits Juliet’s tomb to pay his respects, only to encounter Romeo. He confronts Romeo over Tybalt’s death, and the two engage in a fight. In the movie, however, Romeo goes to the church while evading the authorities. It’s possible that such a showdown between Paris and Romeo was cut to keep the focus on the tragic outcome, and it was likely unnecessary since Paris has a minor role in the movie.

Another difference noticed while rewatching Romeo + Juliet is that, at the end of the movie, the patriarchs of the Montague and Capulet families do not reconcile, and Father Laurence does not fully explain his role in the events. These changes may have been made to give more weight to the consequences of the families’ hatred towards one another.

However, most of Shakespeare’s original dialogue is preserved. For example, when Juliet asks the Nurse about Romeo’s identity, the Nurse responds, “He is the son of your only enemy.” Another memorable line comes from Mercutio as he lies dying: “A plague o’ both your houses!” These moments demonstrate how Luhrmann retains elements of the original play despite changing its setting.

Furthermore, just like in Shakespeare’s play, Lord Capulet allows Romeo to remain at the party and even calls out Tybalt for attempting to pick a fight with him. Lord Capulet doesn’t want any disorder at his gathering since he and Montague were warned by the Prince to not fight anymore.

The Making Of A Retelling: Facts You Didn’t Know About Romeo and Juliet

Romeo + Juliet has many interesting facts that might surprise fans of this retelling. Production records show that the storm approaching as Romeo runs to his car to chase Tybalt, following Mercutio’s death, was entirely real. A hurricane was moving toward the area, and it eventually demolished the film’s sets. It’s remarkable that an actual weather event became part of the production’s story.

Behind-the-scenes casting records also state that Natalie Portman was originally considered for Juliet and even took part in a screen test. However, the age gap between Portman and DiCaprio at the time made it inappropriate for them to play love interests back then.

Another interesting fact is that DiCaprio helped secure the film’s financing and was Baz Luhrmann’s top choice for Romeo. Luhrmann reportedly first noticed him in a photograph and wondered whether he could act. DiCaprio later helped the project move forward by traveling to Australia and creating a video to secure the film’s financing.

Finally, Luhrmann wanted to challenge the arrogant idea that Shakespeare could only be enjoyed by a particular group of people. He wanted to make the story accessible to a younger audience without losing the original play’s language and themes. That ambition helps explain why the film blends Shakespeare’s dialogue with modern music, fashion, and imagery.

These behind-the-scenes details offer a glimpse into the decisions and unexpected circumstances that helped bring this unique adaptation to life.

For Never Was a Story of More Woe

Romeo + Juliet demonstrates an adaptation can remain faithful to its source material while adding new ideas to the table. For some, watching this movie is a rite of passage during freshman year of high school, whether as part of a classroom discussion or a unit on Shakespeare. Ultimately, Luhrmann’s take has stood the test of time, introducing new generations to one of the greatest tragedies in fiction

Revisiting Romeo + Juliet: The Endurance of Baz Luhrmann’s Take on Shakespeare’s Classic was originally published in Babel on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I love discovering an artist whose work I want to go back and look at almost as soon as I’ve left the gallery. It happened twice this week, in quite different circumstances. One encounter was a spur-of-the-moment visit to the Courtauld on Wednesday afternoon after a meeting. The other was Tuesday evening at the Maximillian William gallery in Fitzrovia, listening to Matthew Perlman talk about the life and work of his late grandmother, Suzanne. By the end of the week, I was still thinking about the colours both artists use, and how differently they use them.

I felt particularly lucky to get into Salman Toor: Someone Like You without having booked a ticket ahead of time. My experience with the Courtauld is that by the time I’ve made up my mind to see an exhibition, everybody else in London seems to have already bought a ticket. This time I had a bit of room in my diary and thought I’d chance it. It’s a small exhibition, just nineteen paintings, which gave me time to go back to the ones I liked and see what I’d missed the first time round. It’s also Toor’s first solo exhibition in Europe.

Toor was born in Lahore in 1983 and lives and works in New York. He draws on his own memories and experiences to paint imagined scenes, many of them centred on queer South Asian men. There’s a lovely range of feeling in these pictures. Someone can be among friends and still seem miles away. In Bar Boy, a young man is surrounded by people in a crowded club, his face lit by his phone. I found myself wondering whether he’d retreated into it because he felt alone or because, for a moment, he wanted to be.

And then there’s that green. It was the first thing I noticed and the thing I kept coming back to. I like that I couldn’t settle on how it made me feel. It can make a room look like somewhere you’d happily spend the rest of the evening, then give the same room a slightly eerie cast. There’s a related pleasure in the way Toor borrows from older paintings. In The Bar on 13th Street, a bartender with braids, ribbons and painted nails takes up a position that recalls Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère. Toor’s references reach from European tavern scenes to South Asian painting, and the people in his pictures get to be glamorous, sexy, distracted and lonely in their own right. What felt fresh to me was seeing whose nights out and private preoccupations could command the same attention as the figures in the paintings I’d grown up seeing in museums.

There’s the added pleasure of being able to see that Manet in the Courtauld’s own collection. I spent some time with the Impressionists afterwards and was reminded how impressive that collection is. It felt a little like being back at the Musée d’Orsay, on a much smaller scale and with considerably fewer people between me and the paintings. I’d gone in because I had a bit of time after a meeting and found myself wishing I’d left the whole afternoon free.

My introduction to Suzanne Perlman came by way of her grandson. I met Matthew earlier this year after reading a fascinating profile of him in The Times. He directs his grandmother’s estate and had helped bring her work to a wider audience through a successful exhibition at Singer Laren, just outside Amsterdam, this past summer. On Tuesday he was in conversation with the writer and critic Jennifer Higgie and the exhibition’s curator, Sanne de Rooij, to mark the publication of a new monograph. I’d already been drawn to Suzanne’s paintings, and hearing Matthew speak about her made me want to spend more time with them.

Perlman was born into a Jewish family in Budapest in 1922. Her parents ran an art and antiques gallery, where she helped sort postcards of paintings as a child. In 1940, she and her husband Henri escaped wartime Europe and eventually reached Curaçao, where she would spend nearly fifty years. In Willemstad she painted street vendors, domino players and dancers, as well as the island’s landscape. She explored abstraction in New York and moved to London in 1990, where the city itself became a subject. I love the Abstract Expressionist energy in her work, particularly the sense that a sweep of colour can carry as much feeling as a face. Even in her paintings of recognisable places, I find my eye following the colour before I’ve quite taken in what I’m looking at.

A few days later I can still picture the boy looking down at his phone in Toor’s green bar. The first time I looked at him, I noticed the light on his face. The longer I looked, the more I wondered about the people around him, and whether he’d come with them or was waiting for someone else. With Perlman, I had a different experience. Knowing something about her life gave me a way into the paintings, but once I was looking, I kept getting sidetracked by the colour, for with both of these artists, it’s the colour that stays with you.

That’s one of the things I love about discovering an artist. At first you remember the circumstances. I had some time after a meeting and got lucky at the Courtauld. I read a piece in The Times, met Matthew and ended up hearing him talk about his grandmother. Then, a few days later, you find the paintings turning up in your thoughts at odd moments, without the rest of the day attached to them. I’d happily go back to the Courtauld just to spend a little longer with that boy at the bar. And the next time I see a Perlman, I’m curious to find out where my eye goes first.

Jon Malysiak is a Northamptonshire- and London- based literary agent, author, editor, culture commentator, and publishing consultant. He is also the Head of Publishing at StoryTerrace. His second novel Trash — the sequel to Posh and the second instalment in the Templeton Family Chronicles — is out now and available for purchase in paperback, hardcover, and ebook on Amazon and wherever books are sold online. He also writes a weekly article on Substack: https://notesonculture2026.substack.com/publish/posts/detail/209485840?referrer=%2Fpublish%2Fhome. More at jonmalysiak.com, https://thetempletonchronicles.com/ and https://jfmlited.com/

It’s the Colours That Stay With You was originally published in Babel on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.