I never really got Romeo and Juliet when I read the classic play in school. I just didn’t see how it could be the greatest love story of all time — I mean, these kids have known each other for under a week before they decide to get married and die for each other? Being by nature neither theatrical nor romantic, the plight of those “star cross’d lovers” roused little sympathy in my heart. Or at least that’s what I thought until I saw Baz Luhrmann’s dreamy, beautiful, oh-so-1990s film version, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet. This was an eye-opener in eighth grade, and not just because it kindled my love for Leo. For the first time, I understood what all the fuss was about; for the first time I got Romeo and Juliet. The plot, I’d imagine, is well-known to most — the Capulets and Montagues are as familiar foes to us as Republicans and Democrats — but Luhrmann cleverly updates the play. The director recasts the two families (“both alike in dignity”) as warring crime empires, which makes the idea of an ancient blood feud not only comprehensible, but also feasible to modern viewers. Set in modern day California, the only thing Elizabethan about the film is the dialogue, which follows Shakespeare’s script almost to the letter. Luhrmann, however, did away with the faux-British accent traditionally adopted for the Bard’s work, and opted instead for the intonations of SoCal teens. The casualness with which the cast treats some of the most hallowed, oft-repeated words in the English language is shocking to say the least: Harold Perrineau gives Mercutio’s line “Make it a word and blow!” the cheeky edge it deserves and is one of the most rewarding moments of the movie. Not even the freshest line readings, however, would matter if it weren’t for Luhrmann’s outstanding camera work. The quick cuts, a signature of pre-Laguna MTV culture, and the dizzying cinematography left audiences shocked in the best possible way. The collage-like editing pairs burning newspaper headlines with montages of gang warfare set to an operatic score. Luhrmann’s shock-and-awe filmmaking style set trends that still inform directors looking to gain a share of the coveted youth demographic. But what really set my pre-teen heart aflutter certainly wasn’t Baz and his way with a Steadicam. Rather, it was a certain Leonardo DiCaprio who caught my eye. While many a devoted DiCaprio fans will swear they first loved him in The Basketball Diaries, we all know that their passion was truly kindled with that first brooding beach shot of a poetry-writing, hair-in-the-face, handsomely tortured Romeo. Claire “My So-Called Life” Danes continues her bid for the angsty voice of our generation as a radiant, angelic Juliet. DiCaprio may be brash and foxy, but Danes’ subtle innocence imbues the film with more tragedy than even the most skeptical viewer could expect. I always dismissed Shakespeare out of hand as something I just couldn’t relate to; I could recognize his importance but couldn’t identify with his characters. Baz Luhrmann’s astonishing film single-handedly did what a thousand English classes never managed to do: Come the final frame of Romeo + Juliet, I was sobbing.