Daniel
Craig, Ruth Negga, as Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, in Sam Gold’s Macbeth
Photo: Joan Marcus
Macbeth
A Review by Deirdre Donovan
In a stop-and-go season, when so many productions were put on pause for
COVID-forced absences, the new staging of Macbeth, helmed by
Sam Gold (Fun Home), at the Longacre Theatre holds the
brave distinction of closing out the 2021-2022 Broadway season.
First, the good news. Gold’s mounting of the Scottish play has
two mega-voltage stars, Daniel Craig and Ruth Negga, leading the cast
as the diabolical Macbeths. What’s more, Craig and Negga have
that elusive thing called “good chemistry” from the
get-go. Indeed, when Negga’s Lady Macbeth leaps into her
stage husband’s arms and seductively entwines herself around his torso
in Act 1, the temperature in the theatre truly ratchets
up. And it also gives fresh definition to the late
Shakespearean scholar Harold Bloom’s characterization of the Macbeths
as the “happiest marriage in Shakespeare.”
Another boon to this revival is how it investigates the stage
superstitions surrounding Macbeth. In a curtain speech,
presented by the terrific Michael Patrick Thornton, (he performs Lennox
and an assassin in the play proper), we are given a mini-history
on Macbeth and how the historical King James I (he first
was James VI of Scotland before succeeding Queen Elizabeth in 1603)
almost certainly influenced the witch motif in the Scottish Play. The scholarly
king was obsessed with witchcraft and wrote a book
entitled Daemonologie (1597).
Thornton continued his yarn by sharing that the prolific Shakespeare
wrote Macbeth, King Lear, and Antony and Cleopatra, in
quarantine, circa 1605, when the public theaters were closed during the
plague. Thornton then paused, looked the audience in
their collective eye, and pointedly asked what they had done of note
since the pandemic arrived in our midst two years ago. The
silence that followed was palpable.
Thornton wrapped up his curtain speech by mischievously asking viewers to
forget the cultural taboo about Macbeth and to say the
play’s name silently under their masks to the person sitting next to
them. No question this staging of Macbeth is
intentionally meant to rattle the stage superstitions haunting this drama.
Witches are writ large in Gold’s production. Indeed, even
before the play proper begins, we see the witches in modern-dress
(costumes by Suttirat Lalarb) cooking up who-knows-what in a kitchen on
a mostly bare stage (minimalist set design by Christine
Jones). And, in contrast to the more conventional witches in
other revivals of Macbeth, these Weird Sisters look like they are
having one helluva time creating their brew.
Don’t forget to read dramaturgs Michael Sexton and Ayanna Thompson’s
program note. They persuasively argue that
the production’s sparse scenery and actors performing multiple parts
mirrors the theatrical practices of the early
17th century. Or as they aptly put it: “This
production, like the theater of Shakespeare’s time, is one of minimal
scenery and maximum fluidity and speed. There are no
major scene changes, and the actors play multiple roles. This
simplicity and flexibility, in which the play’s language carries most
of the narrative and expressive weight, enables a high level of
imaginative participation.”
Whether you buy into their argument or not, Sexton and Thompson do provide
some fascinating historical information on the stage practices of
Shakespeare’s time and how Gold’s production, more or less, dovetails
with it.
Now for the not-so-good news. Gold’s innovative touches in
his production, as brilliant as they may be, don’t make his
modern-dress Macbeth all that accessible to many
theatergoers. Take his minimalist staging and fluidity of
role-playing, which has many actors in his 14-member cast doing double or
triple duty in the show. Even those who are familiar with the
story of Macbeth might find themselves playing Sherlock Holmes
as Maria Dizzia’s Witch morphs into Lady Macduff and then
a Doctor. Indeed, it is difficult at times to know
what character we are looking at in this briskly-paced production.
Of course, there was no problem in identifying the titular character
Macbeth, as performed by the James Bond actor Craig, or Lady Macbeth,
as impersonated by the exotic-looking Ruth Negga. Asia
Kate Dillon, with her purple coif, is quite easily identified as the
royal Malcolm and future king. And, in spite of his triple duty as
King Duncan, the Porter, and Siward, Paul Lazar somehow manages to
delineate his roles with crystal-clear outlines.
Macbeth is the best known of Shakespeare’s
plays. And it would be tedious to recount its plot details
here. But, suffice it to say, that Macbeth is a story of
an overly-ambitious Scottish general who gained the world and lost
his soul.
Daniel
Craig, as the titular character, in Macbeth
Photo: Joan Marcus
Kudos to both Craig and Negga for tackling the plum Shakespearean roles of
Macbeth and the Queen with brio. Although
Craig doesn’t quite capture the vulnerability of the conscience-stricken
Macbeth in the first several acts, he has no problem impersonating
the Thane as “Bellona’s Bridegroom” or Lady Macbeth’s torrid
lover. Craig, with his muscular physique and steely demeanor surely
looks the part of Macbeth. And his performance is at
its best when his character is fighting against impossible odds (think
of the moving grove that comes to Dunsinane in Act 5).
Ruth Negga, playing opposite him, however, is the real star
turn. Her emotional immediacy and natural phrasing of the
verse makes one readily understand what she’s spoken--and left
unspoken. She has acting range too, capable of first projecting
herself as the impervious Lady Macbeth, and later on, as the
light-obsessed Queen who sleep walks at night, trying to wash her hands
clean of Duncan’s murder.
Ruth Negga,
as Lady Macbeth, in Macbeth
Photo: Joan Marcus
Don’t expect to hear the familiar witches chant: “Double, double toil
and trouble; Fire burn and cauldron bubble” in this
production. In fact, a lot has been jettisoned from Gold’s
retooled version of Macbeth. It’s almost as if Gold is
attempting to pare the tragedy down to its bone, in hopes of discovering
its essence.
This Macbeth becomes the fourth major Shakespeare production staged
by Gold. His Othello with Craig and David
Oyelowo
at the New York Theatre Workshop was a hit with the critics and
public alike. His irreverent but likable Hamlet at
the Public Theatre with Oscar Isaac at the Public
Theatre was also a crowd-pleaser. Less popular was
his King Lear on Broadway, over-spritzed with Philip Glass’
music, though almost redeemed by the great actress Glenda Jackson playing
Lear.
Returning to the current production, what does the invented “soup scene”
mean at play’s end, in which the company gathers on stage for a hearty
communal meal of soup? Indeed, the scene is likely to
satisfy some, and puzzle others. Although
it’s impossible to know precisely what Gold is up to here, one
can certainly speculate on the scene’s meaning, whether taken at its
face value (soup is famous for nursing folks back to health) or as
symbolism that a stronger community is on the horizon.
But how did Gold come up with a soup motif for his invented
epilogue? Is the company acting as a chorus and perhaps
pondering Macbeth’s haunting words from Act 5, “I have supped full of
horrors.”? Or are they simply presenting themselves
as survivors of the tyrant Macbeth? Or does the scene
bleed into real life and make us think of the tyrannous COVID-19
virus that has killed so many of our loved ones in the past two years
and severely disrupted our lives?
In any event, Gold is not the first artist to retool a Shakespeare play
with a coda. After all, didn’t theatrical companies
in Shakespeare’s time dance a “transitional” jig at play’s end, a signal
to the actors and audience alike that it was time to leave the
fictive world and return to the real world of responsibility?
Okay, Gold leaves the audience with more questions than answers with
his Macbeth. But, fortunately, the vastness of
Shakespeare allows for many interpretations of the
tragedy. Gold, in his new provocative production, might
not please all theatergoers. But he surely gives one a fresh point
of departure to reconsider the truths at the core of this bloody
tragedy of ambition.
Through July 10th.
At the Longacre Theatre
220 W. 48th St., Midtown West
For tickets, phone 212-541-8457.
Running time: 2 hours; 20 minutes with one intermission.
