Like a lot of people I occasionally found Ken B irriating in the 90s - not a lot but a little. He certainly didn't deserve the shellacking the Pommy press gave him - I mean they really poured it on. They should be ashamed. Ken sort of came out of nowhere on an international scale with Henry V; I first heard of him when I saw him on the cover of Time. Henry V, Dead Again and Much Ado About Nothing got his career off to a flying star; there was also a lot of affection for Peter's Friends though there was that awful long tracking shot near the end which made me realise that he mightn't be my favourite director. That was confirmed by the enormously disappointing Frankenstein - what we hoped at last would be a faithful adaptation of the novel sunk into irritatingness with all that swooping camerawork and buffed up Ken. But no one deserves what he went through - divorce, ridicule, even dud films for Altman and Woody Allen.
He kept his head down and is still turning out good work. Hopefully he will continue to be able to make Shakespeare films. And he shouldn't give up on the acting. This is a well-written and researched biography, very enjoyable - I read it almost straight through.
White makes a strong argument, well supported with facts, of Branagh's shabby treatment at the hands of the English press. My own addition to why the press hated him so: he had the field of genius to himself. Olivier had Richardson and Gielgud running around, Ken B had the young genius field to himself.
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