When I first saw this film, in about 1948, I only really enjoyed the battle scenes, and then mainly the first flight of arrows streaking into the French cavalry. Since then I have revisited it countless times, most recently just now, and my admiration for it steadily grows. I sympathise with those reviewers who couldn't understand the circumstances of the film's production, were disappointed, or thought the actors foppish. It is true the English stage of the day was somewhat overloaded with old queans, some of whom appear here. But these things are basically irrelevant. Olivier's delivery, his perception of the significance of every word that Shakespeare wrote, is impeccable. Appreciation of it sinks in deeper every time his performance is re-savoured, and the bits I was bored with 50 years ago --- eg the opening, the death of Falstaff, the discussion of "nationhood", and the courtship scenes --- grow more and more enjoyable and interesting. By comparison, Branagh is almost totally insensitive to the rhythms and latent meanings of the text. Both versions are heavily edited: Branagh wallows more in the brutality, but Olivier is infinitely more subtle and perceptive. Branagh tries to be different, but several of Olivier's speeches and scenic exchanges are just so fine and powerful that all Branagh can do is produce pale copies of them. Not everyone will agree. Time will tell. I know the arrows were just scratched into the celluloid.