If you're going to update Shakespeare for the 90s, go all the way. This seems to be the moral behind Troma's reworking of the bard, which throws most of the dialogue and large gobs of the plot (notably the ending) out the window, in favour of their characteristic brand of excess. Witness Motorhead's Lemmy as narrator; a squirm-inducing nipple piercing (pre-BBFC, at least!); severed limbs; Juliet in a lesbian sex romp, and MUCH more, as well as a blitzkrieg of cultural references, not least to other Troma films. The end result is a bit of a mess - but that's no surprise - and is certainly never dull, with a host of memorable characters and moments, though the handsome Tromeo and macrobiotic Juliet pale a bit in comparison.
It's Troma's best for quite some time, harkening back to classics like the first Toxic Avenger and showing a willingness to tread on toes which is delightful and fun. That whirring sound is Olivier spinning in his grave, but if Willie S. were alive today, I think he'd be kinda pleased: "What light through yonder plexiglass breaks..."