Anything with Alan Cumming in it can’t be bad. (I say this without watching “Spice World.”) Julie Taymor’s “Titus” is a fascinating film — there are sequences so fantastic I feel as if she is the greatest director in the history of cinema — and there are other moments that are so embarrasingly bad that I question whether or not she is, in fact, deaf and blind. The bad sequences are the digitally enhanced, hallucinatory intra-act link montages that look like advertisements for a third rate Cirque de Soliel knockoff. Luckily, these happen quickly (and only four times.) The rest of this two hour and forty minute orgy of blood and repressed incest kicks ass. Some scholars dismiss Shakespeare’s “Titus Andronicus” as his least work — indeed, there are two obscenely wide plot holes (if you want to discuss specifics, email me) — but if you can get past the breakneck reversals of fortune and the fact that none of the main characters are sympathetic, well, then you’ve got yourself a movie. I found myself almost embarrasingly engaged. Recommended.