Let's be honest: almost no one should watch this movie.

Prospero's Books is the kind of film that exists to be discussed in film theory classes, not actually enjoyed. Yes, it's visually innovative—Greenaway was experimenting with digital effects before most filmmakers knew what a green screen was. Yes, John Gielgud is magnificent. Yes, there's intellectual merit in its meditation on creativity and power.

But it's also two hours of deliberately slow, opaque imagery interrupted constantly by full-frontal nudity that serves no narrative purpose. The 82% audience score is a self-selection artifact—only people predisposed to love experimental art cinema finish this thing and rate it.

For families? Absolutely not. For teenagers interested in Shakespeare? Still no. For adults who love challenging cinema? Maybe, but you've been warned. This is the definition of a movie more interesting to read about than to actually watch.