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Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations

Coriolanus

by Joseph Rosenblum, Gina Macdonald, Andrew Macdonald

Type of plot: Tragedy

Time of plot: Third century BCE

Locale: Rome, Corioles, and Antium

First performed: ca. 1607–8; first published, 1623

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

Caius Martius Coriolanus, a noble Roman

Titus Lartius and

Cominius, generals against the Volscians

Menenius Agrippa, a friend of Coriolanus

Tullus Aufidius, a general of the Volscians

Sicinius Velutus and

Junius Brutus, tribunes of the people

Volumnia, the mother of Coriolanus

Virgilia, the wife of Coriolanus

THE STORY

Caius Martius, a brilliant soldier, was attempting to subdue a mob in Rome when he was summoned to lead his troops against the Volscians from Corioles. The Volscians were headed by Tullus Aufidius, also a great soldier and perennial foe of Martius. The hatred the two leaders had for each other fired their military ambitions. Martius’s daring as a warrior, known by all since he was sixteen, led him to pursue the enemy inside the very gates of Corioles. Locked inside the city, he and his troops fought so valiantly that they overcame the Volscians. Twice wounded, the victorious general was garlanded and hailed as Caius Martius Coriolanus.

On his return to Rome, Coriolanus was further proclaimed by patricians, consuls, and senators, and he was recommended for the office of consul, an appointment wholeheartedly approved by the nobles. Because the citizens too had to vote on his appointment, Coriolanus, accompanied by Menenius Agrippa, went to Sicinius and Brutus, the plebeian tribunes, to seek their approval.

The people had long held only contempt for Coriolanus because of his arrogance and inhumane attitude toward all commoners. Although coached and prompted by Menenius to make his appeal as a wound-scarred soldier of many wars, Coriolanus could not bring himself to solicit the citizens’ support but instead demanded it. He was successful in this with individuals he approached at random on the streets, but Brutus and Sicinius, who represented the common people, were not willing to endorse the elevation of Coriolanus to office. They voiced the opinions of many citizens when they accused Coriolanus of insolence and of abuses such as denying the people food from the public storehouses. Urging those citizens who had voted for him to rescind their votes, Brutus and Sicinius pointed out that his military prowess was not to be denied but that this very attribute would result in further suppression and misery for the people. Coriolanus’s ambitions, they predicted, would lead to his complete domination of the government and to the destruction of their democracy.

Menenius, Cominius, and the senators repeatedly pleaded with Coriolanus to approach the tribunes civilly, and Volumnia admonished him that if he wanted to realize his political ambitions he must follow their advice. Appealing to his responsibility as a Roman, Volumnia pointed out that service to one’s country was not shown on the battlefield alone and that Coriolanus must use certain strategies and tactics for victory in peace as well as in war.

Coriolanus misconstrued his mother’s suggestions. She had taught him arrogance, nurtured his desires in military matters, and boasted of his strength and of her part in developing his dominating personality. Coriolanus now inferred that his mother in her older years was asking for submissiveness and compliance. Although he promised Volumnia that he would deal kindly with the people, it was impossible for him to relent, even when his wife, Virgilia, who had never condoned his soldiership, lent her pleas to those of the group and appealed to his vanity as a capable political leader and to his responsibility as a father and husband.

Coriolanus’s persistence in deriding and mocking the citizens led to an uprising against him. Drawing his sword, he would have stood alone against the mob, but Menenius and Cominius, fearing that the demonstration might result in an overthrow of the government, prevailed upon him to withdraw to his house before the crowd assembled. Coriolanus misinterpreted the requests of his friends and family that he yield to the common people, and he displayed such arrogance that he was banished from Rome. Tullus Aufidius, learning of these events, prepared his armies to take advantage of the civil unrest in Rome.

Coriolanus, in disguise to protect himself against those who wanted to avenge the deaths of the many he had killed, went to Antium to offer his services to Aufidius against Rome. When Coriolanus removed his disguise, Aufidius, who knew the Roman’s ability as a military leader, willingly accepted his offer to aid in the Volscian campaign. Aufidius divided his army in order that he and Coriolanus each could lead a unit, thereby broadening the scope of his efforts against the Romans. In this plan, Aufidius saw the possibility of avenging Coriolanus’s earlier victories over him; once they had taken Rome, Aufidius thought, the hatred of the Romans for Coriolanus would make possible his dominance over the arrogant patrician.

The Romans heard with dismay of Coriolanus’s affiliation with Aufidius; their only hope, some thought, was to appeal to Coriolanus to spare the city. Although Menenius and Cominius blamed the tribunes for Coriolanus’s banishment, they went as messengers to the great general in his camp outside the gates of Rome. They were unsuccessful, and Cominius returned to inform the citizens that in spite of old friendships, Coriolanus would not be swayed in his intentions to annihilate the city. Cominius reported that Coriolanus refused to take the time to find the few grains who were his friends among the chaff he intended to burn.

Menenius, sent to appeal again to Coriolanus, met with the same failure. Coriolanus maintained that his ears were stronger against the pleas than the city gates were against his might. Calling the attention of Aufidius to his firm stand against the Romans, he asked him to report his conduct to the Volscian lords. Aufidius promised to do so and praised the general for his stalwartness. While Coriolanus vowed not to hear the pleas of any other Romans, he was interrupted by women’s voices calling his name. The petitioners were Volumnia, Virgilia, and young Martius, his son. Telling them that he would not be moved, he again urged Aufidius to observe his unyielding spirit. Then Volumnia spoke, saying that their requests for leniency and mercy were in vain, since he had already proclaimed against kindliness, and that they would therefore not appeal to him. He had also made it impossible for them to appeal to the gods: They could not pray for victory for Rome because such supplication would be against him, and they could not pray for his success in the campaign because that would be to betray their country. Volumnia proclaimed that she did not seek advantage for either the Romans or the Volscians but asked only for reconciliation. She predicted that Coriolanus would be a hero to both sides if he could arrange an honorable peace between them.

Finally moved by his mother’s reasoning, Coriolanus announced to Aufidius that he would frame a peace agreeable to the two forces. Aufidius declared that he too had been moved by Volumnia’s solemn pleas and wise words. Volumnia, Virgilia, and young Martius returned to Rome, there to be welcomed for the success of their intercession with Coriolanus. Aufidius withdrew to Antium to await the return of Coriolanus and their meeting with the Roman ambassadors, but as he reviewed the situation, he realized that peace would nullify his plan for revenge against Coriolanus. Moreover, knowing of the favorable regard the Volscians had for Coriolanus, he felt he had to remove the man who had been his conqueror in war and who might become his subduer in peace. At a meeting of the Volscian lords, Aufidius announced that Coriolanus had betrayed the Volscians by depriving them of victory. In the ensuing confusion, he stabbed Coriolanus to death. Regretting his deed, he then eulogized Coriolanus and said that he would live forever in men’s memories. One of the Volscian lords pronounced Coriolanus the most noble corpse that was ever followed to the grave.

—Joseph Rosenblum

CRITICAL EVALUATION

Coriolanus, one of Shakespeare’s three “Roman plays,” first appeared in 1607 or 1608. It marked a vision quite distinct from and unlike the earlier great tragedies Hamlet (1600–1601), King Lear (1605–6), and Macbeth (1606), which retain their appeal as much for their differences as for their likenesses to later ages. Coriolanus, on the other hand, remains modern in a number of significant ways. For one thing, there are no noble kings in the quasi-democratic society being portrayed, no amusing comic interludes with clowns and jesters that epitomize the jolly side of English sensibility, no fundamentally decent great men marred only by one tragic flaw, no declamatory soliloquies, no uplifting philosophical or poetic musings, no reassurances of a better future after the tragic hero’s downfall. Instead, the landscape not only reflects the pessimism of Jacobean London but also distressingly resembles that of the twentieth century. The play presents a proudly democratic and secular society marred by the corrosive effects of established wealth in tandem with rigid social class divisions, a populace easily distracted by concerns of the moment and appeals to narrow self-interest (which allow rabble-rousers and charlatans to use their false rhetoric to great effect), a guns-or-butter debate that pits military preparedness against social welfare, and a fundamental question about the role of the exceptional individual in a supposedly egalitarian society. These remained the concerns of later ages as well, and they give Coriolanus a political and social resonance with twentieth-century audiences that is not the case in those great Shakespearean tragedies that focus more exclusively on questions of individual morality.

Three related themes have particular resonance. In a society that at least tips its hat toward egalitarian ideals, the character of Coriolanus is a Shakespearean version of a figure that the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche would later call the Übermensch, or superman. Known as the “overreacher” to the Elizabethans, this was a figure the Renaissance regarded with fear and fascination both in literature—as in Christopher Marlowe’s characters Doctor Faustus and Tamburlaine and in John Milton’s Satan—and in real life, as in such figures as Sir Francis Drake and Sir Walter Raleigh. These Renaissance overreachers took advantage of the new freedoms of their liberated age to accomplish wonders but in doing so shook the foundations of their society, which, though initially valuing what they represented, usually ended by destroying them. A Macbeth, Lear, or Richard III might temporarily threaten the state as a result of personal ambition, foolishness, or corruption, but these figures were not, like Coriolanus, a barely contained force whom those around him tolerated for his usefulness but never ceased to regard nervously. (Othello comes closest to this description, but he is a basically good man led astray by personal weakness.) The dilemma William Shakespeare develops in Coriolanus anticipates the historical situations of individuals with a will to dominate, generals who accomplish what society wanted and who then turn on their own people with ferocity. Such strong personalities are needed in crisis but dangerous any other time, and from Napoleon to Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin to Mao Zedong, society has been terrorized by such figures. Whether we agree with those critics who regard Coriolanus as a play about politics or see it, as Algernon Charles Swinburne did, as a “drama of individuality” focused on an outsized hero, the problem is timeless.

As perhaps nowhere else in his works, Shakespeare in Coriolanus ties the character of his hero to his upbringing. This is in contrast to the way he explores the forces that shape Prince Hal in the Henry IV (1597–98) and Henry V (1598–99) series, where it is shown how little power they had over the prince. Here, Shakespeare looks at Coriolanus’s nature as peculiarly male rather than as simply natural for a great warrior, and in the scenes with his mother, Volumnia, and his wife, Virgilia, he suggests the power of upbringing. Volumnia, a stalwart Roman matron, is fiercely masculine in her martial virtues and has proudly raised Coriolanus in this model of manhood. Virgilia, more conventionally feminine, deplores her husband’s violent ways and their influence on their son. Few other Shakespearean heroes have their natures so linked to environment, and nowhere else, save in the frothy problems of the comedies, is the gender difference confronted so directly. As with the superman type, the male ego in its purest untamed form has practical uses for guarding the city, but Shakespeare asks what is to be done with it during peacetime. The easy answer, and the one the Romans first choose, is exile, but this backfires when Coriolanus thereupon embraces the worst enemy of those who had rejected him. Critic John Holloway called Coriolanus a typical “scapegoat figure,” a disturbing influence in the society to be symbolically driven out to restore peace. Yet such figures cannot easily be pushed into the desert permanently, as were biblical scapegoats. Those like Coriolanus must be accepted as part of society itself, to be endured or dealt with.

Another concern in the play that had surfaced during Shakespeare’s Renaissance and continues to be relevant is that of mob psychology. It would be several generations before the English Civil War and almost two hundred years before the terrors of the French Revolution, but fear of mob rule was endemic in Britain since the earliest days of Elizabeth I’s rule, during Shakespeare’s childhood. This fear runs through Coriolanus, balancing the equally abhorrent specter of rule by an undisciplined general teetering on the edge of manic fury. The play offers no solution to this Hobson’s choice between governance by the whim of the “many-headed multitude” and that by aristocratic contempt for the concerns of the commonality, but it establishes the problem. The world of Coriolanus exemplifies the dilemma between distrust of the failed values of a self-serving aristocracy and distrust in the alternative, the passions of a “democratic” mob, and it explores that problem in connection with ambition, social stratification, and gender roles. Shakespeare’s entire tragic canon illuminates human nature as no other dramatist has accomplished, but in Coriolanus he also provides insight into the problems of an age that was just beginning.

—Gina and Andrew Macdonald

FILM ADAPTATIONS

1983 BBC Television Shakespeare Production

This production, directed by Elijah Moshinsky, starred Joss Ackland as Menenius; Alan Howard as Caius Marcius [Coriolanus]; Patrick Godfrey as Cominius; Mike Gwilym as Aufidius; and Irene Worth as Volumnia.

Henry Fenwick, in his discussion of “The Production” (19–28) in the BBC booklet published in conjunction with this version’s first broadcast, said that the play’s complexity probably appealed to director Elijah Moshinsky, who saw it as a work about a “disinherited hero” and “Godless man.” Fenwick noted Moshinsky’s emphasis on “content” and “debate” rather than “pictorialism” (18). He observed that both the costumes and the sets blend Elizabethan and early Roman styles, with a rejection of predictable Roman paraphernalia but with a strong emphasis on primary colors such as white and red and with an emphasis on enclosed spaces within Jacobean interiors (19). Fenwick commented that stress was placed less on costumes than on language, that armor is sparingly used, that decoration was deemphasized, and that clarity of plot was stressed (19–20), with special focus on Coriolanus’s development (20–21), especially in his scenes with the consuls and with Volumnia and many cuts involving commoners (21). Reporting that the production wanted to emphasize Coriolanus’s private rather than political passions (21), Fenwick said the producers pursued Alan Howard to play Coriolanus because he had recently performed the role effectively on stage. Moshinsky considered the role “tricky” for television because it is so “operatic” but said that television can reveal the character’s complexities and growing “disenchantment” (22). Moshinsky called Coriolanus both “impulsive and shy” and a character who can risk seeming too vociferous (22). He considered both Coriolanus and the play itself cold, saying Coriolanus is targeted by other people’s passions, especially those of the Machiavellian Aufidius and his own strong-willed mother (24). Michael Gwilym, playing Aufidius, saw his character as narcissistic and eventually as a crafty politician, while Irene Worth, playing Volumnia, saw her as an ambitious aristocratic mother and regarded the play itself as foreign to modern values but intriguing for that reason (26–27). Fenwick reported that Howard, as Coriolanus, saw this character as somewhat self-destructive, absolutist, and uncomfortably inflexible (27–28).

Maurice Charney, writing in a review from 1984 titled “Alan Howard in Moshinsky’s Coriolanus,” saw this production as “strikingly painterly and static,” with “a lot of talk and surprisingly little action.” He did praise “some wonderful individual performances” and thought that even if “the overall conception doesn’t make good critical sense of Shakespeare’s play” this adaptation did offer “vibrant and appealing details.” He found Alan Howard “a very energetic and self-assured Coriolanus” but considered him “obviously much too old” for the part, although he thought it “a brilliant stroke to match … Howard’s Coriolanus with Mike Gwilym’s Aufidius,” saying the “two actors are so radically different that they represent opposing lifestyles” (1), finding Gwilym “threatening, melodramatic, and treacherous, whereas Howard has no need to dabble in the sinister” (5).

Katherine Duncan-Jones, in a 1984 review titled “Posturing to the Populace,” called Moshinsky’s production “sombre” and often “visually static,” saying that “its strength lies in peaceful, pictorially composed interiors” and adding that the “power game in its early stages comes alive through stillness and suspense, but fails ever to rise to real excitement. Frenetic theatricality is no substitute.” She considered Alan Howard “seriously miscast as Coriolanus,” commenting that his “extraordinarily affected diction could never be mistaken for military roughness, and his tedious, solipsistic posturings” are hard to take seriously, although she did admire a “magnetic rendering by Irene Worth” of Volumnia. But she ended by remarking “Coriolanus’ rare moments of magnanimity—an important element, I would have thought, in any interpretation—are either un-noticeable or merely grotesque” (487).

Commenting on the BBC production in a general article from 1984 titled “Shakespeare in England,” Roger Warren wrote that the “very strong cast … was fully capable of bringing off Elijah Moshinsky’s interesting interpretation.” Praising Moshinsky for having “fully exploited the possibilities of television by subdividing scenes into smaller units set in different locations,” Warren reported that the “play was abbreviated quite drastically, and many of the omissions coincided with … cross-cutting,” a technique “most strikingly used to point the contrast between the worlds of the two people who most obsess Coriolanus, his mother and Aufidius.” Warren concluded that this “was an intimate, personal, almost private approach to Coriolanus’s tragedy, playing down the large-scale political issues and focusing attention upon Coriolanus’s personal relationships with his family, friends, and enemies. The emphasis upon the love-hate obsession between Coriolanus and Aufidius clearly needed two actors of equal stature, and certainly found them in Alan Howard and Mike Gwilym” (336–37).

J. C. Bulman and H. R. Coursen, in their 1988 anthology Shakespeare on Television, quoted from a pair of early reviews, with one commentator praising the “transcendent performances” of Howard and Worth but regretting the textual cuts and the deemphasis on politics and another writer admiring Howard’s appropriately “harsh and strident voice” and Gwilym’s “sensitive and volatile performance” (304).

Susan Willis, in her 1991 book titled The BBC Shakespeare Plays: Making the Televised Canon (156–60), noted this production’s occasional use of confined spaces (156), its emphasis on changes of temperature (157), its stress on “poses or postures held for the camera” (157), and its changes in speaking styles (157–58). Discussing different kinds of sacrifice by Coriolanus (158–59), Willis also commented on how Coriolanus’s death is staged (159) and the production’s final emphasis on the victory of Aufidius (160).

Commenting on the BBC production in a 1994 essay titled “A World Elsewhere: The Roman Plays on Film and Television,” Samuel Crowl found Moshinsky’s production “technically arresting and persuasively performed” and “the very best of the Roman plays produced from the BBC series” (160). Saying Moshinsky’s version “concentrates on the psychological, with his textual cuts excising politics to focus on the personal,” he praised the strong performance of Alan Howard as Coriolanus, his “carefully constructed persona … built on quicksand” and called Irene Worth a “definitive” Volumnia (160).

Describing, in an abstract, his own 2008 essay titled “The 1983 BBC Coriolanus Revisited,” Jean-Marie Maguin wrote that the “recent transfer (2005) on DVD of the BBC series of the Complete Plays of William Shakespeare provides a good opportunity to revisit some of the series’ most vibrant achievements, like Elijah Moshinsky’s Coriolanus, and check how they have stood the test of upward of two decades.”

In his 2013 book Small-Screen Shakespeare (334–35), Peter Cochran discussed the Renaissance-painterly setting; noted the unusual length of the text; called this Coriolanus a richer character than in other productions; faulted the crowd scenes and some camera work and the lack of political context; but praised the acting while regretting that all the characters speak in the same polished dialect (335).

Discussing the BBC production in his 2014 book on Coriolanus in the Shakespeare in Performance series (115–28), Robert Ormsby related the production to the rise and rule of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher (117) and noted that “[m]any of the scenes left largely intact are those between or among small groups of speakers, so that the content of the remaining debate circulates among relatively few characters, rendering the action private, though not without ‘political’ import.” He said “Moshinsky achieves this effect in part by dividing the scenes into smaller episodes” (118). Scenes featuring the common people tend to be political, but the plebians themselves rarely display “vital political force” (119), although the “violent spectacle in the battle scenes” does “depict the active and decisive [political] involvement of the lower orders” (121–22). Ormsby thought Moshinsky had juxtaposed “scenes of Coriolanus’ family life”—including his “deep, loving bond” with Virgilia—with scenes of his conflict with the plebians and scenes of his relationship with Aufidius (124). Quoting positive assessments of Moshinky’s successful use of television, including his breaking of longer scenes into smaller episodes, Ormsby noted that most reviewers assessed, either positively or negatively, the major actors (especially Howard and Gwilym) (127).

Fiennes as Coriolanus in his directorial debut of the eponymous film.

CSSF_p0039_0001.jpg

Image by Lonely Dragon, via Alamy. [Used under license.]

2011 Ralph Fiennes Production

Directed by and starring Ralph Fiennes (as Coriolanus), this film also featured Gerard Butler as Tullus Aufidius; Vanessa Redgrave as Volumnia; Brian Cox as Menenius; and Jessica Chastain as Virgilia.

Commenting on this production in a review from 2012, Samuel Crowl called this a “daring and underappreciated film” based on an intelligent screenplay by John Logan that seemed relevant to various war-torn countries in the news when the film was made and said it used “many of the same techniques (handheld camera, tight shots, simultaneous shooting from multiple perspectives)” featured in “Kathryn Bigelow’s Academy Award-winning The Hurt Locker.”

In an article from 2015, this one titled “Heroes, Villains, and Balkans,” L. Monique Pittman wrote that “complicating the movie’s critique of masculine identity is Fiennes’s choice to film in Serbia and Montenegro as well as to utilize found news footage from the 1990s Yugoslav Wars.” She thought that “Fiennes’s recontextualization of the Roman-Volsce conflict unleashes a raft of stereotypes of the Balkan male as brutally violent and uncontrollable that problematically yoke an entire European region to the patterns of self-destruction manifested by Coriolanus and Aufidius” (216).

In her 2017 book Devouring Time: Nostalgia in Contemporary Shakespearean Screen Adaptations, Philippa Sheppard (254ff) observed that Fiennes, like Kenneth Branagh in his Henry V, “present[s] the enemy in an egalitarian, respectful manner” (265), adding that the ways the film was promoted reflected contemporary attitudes toward war (273–74). Sheppard, writing that in this film the plebians are treated as personifications of the “other” (274), suggested that “contrary to the images provided by the trailer, the mother-son scenes” are central to this film, so that ultimately, “as Fiennes acknowledges in the DVD commentary, Coriolanus recognizes in his mother’s erasure of his honour to the Volscians his own ultimate demise, wrought by the very woman who bore him. Volumnia,” Sheppard continued, “reared him as the ultimate weapon, and in this important scene she disarms him utterly by reminding him of ‘courtesy’ owed her but yet unpaid” (278). Sheppard, saying Volumnia had infantilized her son, concluded that the “moral ambiguity of the hero, which the trailer glides over, was apparent to all the [film’s] reviewers” (280).

Bibliography

Bulman, J. C., and H. R. Coursen, editors. Shakespeare on Television: An Anthology of Essays and Reviews. UP of New England, 1988.

Charney, Maurice. “Alan Howard in Moshinsky’s Coriolanus.” Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, vol. 9, no. 1, Dec. 1984, pp. 1–5.

Cochran, Peter. Small-Screen Shakespeare. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013.

Crowl, Samuel. Review of Coriolanus, directed by Ralph Fiennes, written by John Logan, produced by Gabrielle Tana, Julia Taylor-Stanley, and Colin Vaines. Shakespeare Bulletin, vol. 30, no. 2, Summer 2012, pp. 145–47.

_____. “A World Elsewhere: The Roman Plays on Film and Television.” Shakespeare and the Moving Image, edited by Anthony Davies and Stanley Wells, Cambridge UP, 1994, pp. 146–62.

Duncan-Jones, Katherine. “Posturing to the Populace.” Times Literary Supplement, 4 May 1984, p. 487.

Fenwick, Henry. “The Production.” Coriolanus: The BBC TV Shakespeare, edited by Peter Alexander, British Broadcasting Corporation, 1984, pp. 19–28.

Maguin, Jean-Marie. “The 1983 BBC Coriolanus Revisited.” Shakespeare on Screen: Television Shakespeare: Essays in Honour of Michele Willems, edited by Sarah Hatchuel and Nathalie Vienne-Guerrin, Presses Universitaires de Rouen et du Havre, 2008, pp. 251–55.

Ormsby, Robert. Coriolanus. Manchester UP, 2014. Shakespeare in Performance series.

Pittman, L. Monique. “Heroes, Villains, and Balkans.” Shakespeare Bulletin, vol. 33, no. 2, Summer 2015, pp. 215–44.

Sheppard, Philippa. Devouring Time: Nostalgia in Contemporary Shakespearean Screen Adaptations. McGill-Queen’s UP, 2017.

Warren, Roger. “Shakespeare in England.” Shakespeare Quarterly, vol. 35, no. 3, Autumn 1984, pp. 334–40.

Willis, Susan. The BBC Shakespeare Plays: Making the Televised Canon. U of North Carolina P, 1991.

Citation Types

Type

Format

MLA 9th

Rosenblum, Joseph, and Gina Macdonald, and Andrew Macdonald. "Coriolanus." Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations, edited by Robert C. Evans, Salem Press, 2025. Salem Online, online.salempress.com/articleDetails.do?articleName=CSSF_0010.

APA 7th

Rosenblum, J., & Macdonald, G., & Macdonald, A. (2025). Coriolanus. In R. C. Evans (Ed.), Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations. Salem Press. online.salempress.com.

CMOS 17th

Rosenblum, Joseph and Macdonald, Gina and Macdonald, Andrew. "Coriolanus." Edited by Robert C. Evans. Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations. Hackensack: Salem Press, 2025. Accessed December 08, 2025. online.salempress.com.

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