I am always interested in the ways a Shakespeare adaptation can be morphed on the screen. This one, by RSC, does it well. It mirrors Stalin's rise and lust for power; there is a gigantic headshot emblazoned on a tapestry in the same vein, infamous moustache and all, of Patrick Stewart once he takes the throne in the dining hall. As they talk of sword fights, they brandish machine guns and weapons of far more lethality. This does not detract from the original play; the climatic fight between Macbeth and Macduff is done via knives, right after he thoroughly douses himself in alcohol and prepares for death.
There are other touches that reinforce this contextual setting. Soviet documentary footage chimes in from dusty television sets and radios. Mechanical elevators creak sombrely and are later used for the metaphorical descent to hell for some of our dearly departed characters. The three witches become pale- faced nurses. Their introduction is fantastic; the horror aesthetic works well because of the seedy lighting, sound design which assaults our ears with scratches, screams and harrowing distortion and the sudden manner in which they are unveiled. Their prophecies become harrowing shrieks as they tend to lifeless patients which sudden crackle with life. The sets are few and sparsely decorated to great effect; there is nothing more illusory than a cold, expansive dining hall which the gramophone struggles to fill with dance music, nothing more grimy than the lone basin where Lady Macbeth sees gushing wounds, red gashes of blood and ruined clothes which she tries futilely to wash away. A leaky faucet sprays blood rather than pure water. The rusting claustrophobic walls close in on our characters in moments of great grief and anger and lust, and we see them for the monsters they truly are.
Both Patrick Stewart and Kate Fleetwood's mastery of the material is clear. Their stage experience and familiarity with the roles allows Goold to use long takes for the soliloquies which heightens the tension and emotion their characters are going through. Fleetwood is terrifying in that first monologue, and then we abruptly cut and she is meekly scrubbing the dirty kitchen walls as Macbeth returns. They embrace with a violent sensuality (which later becomes uneven as the power dynamics of their relationship shift). She is of course initially more motivated to commit regicide than she is, but pulls off the domestic and matronly persona well, even as her mind is scheming beneath. She interrupts that conflicted soliloquy in the kitchen by Macbeth, thrusting her agency and drive into the scene as Stewart agonises over what is a clear sin. Later, Macbeth again confronts the consequences of such a deed, and the camera slowly zooms in and plunges Stewart into pitch black as he finishes with "to hell". His brutal descent into lust and power is accentuated by Stewart; he mimes the shooting of Banquo from afar in the idyllic courtyard, and later stares Macduff's innocent family in the eyes as he brandishes a knife. This kickstarts a Godfather-esque sequence where murders are committed over a haunting hymn and Macbeth's position on the throne is solidified for a little while.
When the affluent and benevolent Duncan gathers his loyal subjects in his office, he pauses for a moment before announcing his son Malcolm as the next in line. The camera is however situated behind them, over their shoulder, and when Duncan makes that pivotal decision, Stewart is pushed into sharp focus; we see every ounce of disgust and confusion in his face after the witches promised a different outcome. I am reminded of a similar scene in RSC's Hamlet where Stewart as Claudius looks to address Hamlet first, but rebuffs him for the lesser Laertes. These little cinematic touches are great at unveiling subtext and character reactions that would be harder to spot on the stage. This adaptation is quite well done.
There are other touches that reinforce this contextual setting. Soviet documentary footage chimes in from dusty television sets and radios. Mechanical elevators creak sombrely and are later used for the metaphorical descent to hell for some of our dearly departed characters. The three witches become pale- faced nurses. Their introduction is fantastic; the horror aesthetic works well because of the seedy lighting, sound design which assaults our ears with scratches, screams and harrowing distortion and the sudden manner in which they are unveiled. Their prophecies become harrowing shrieks as they tend to lifeless patients which sudden crackle with life. The sets are few and sparsely decorated to great effect; there is nothing more illusory than a cold, expansive dining hall which the gramophone struggles to fill with dance music, nothing more grimy than the lone basin where Lady Macbeth sees gushing wounds, red gashes of blood and ruined clothes which she tries futilely to wash away. A leaky faucet sprays blood rather than pure water. The rusting claustrophobic walls close in on our characters in moments of great grief and anger and lust, and we see them for the monsters they truly are.
Both Patrick Stewart and Kate Fleetwood's mastery of the material is clear. Their stage experience and familiarity with the roles allows Goold to use long takes for the soliloquies which heightens the tension and emotion their characters are going through. Fleetwood is terrifying in that first monologue, and then we abruptly cut and she is meekly scrubbing the dirty kitchen walls as Macbeth returns. They embrace with a violent sensuality (which later becomes uneven as the power dynamics of their relationship shift). She is of course initially more motivated to commit regicide than she is, but pulls off the domestic and matronly persona well, even as her mind is scheming beneath. She interrupts that conflicted soliloquy in the kitchen by Macbeth, thrusting her agency and drive into the scene as Stewart agonises over what is a clear sin. Later, Macbeth again confronts the consequences of such a deed, and the camera slowly zooms in and plunges Stewart into pitch black as he finishes with "to hell". His brutal descent into lust and power is accentuated by Stewart; he mimes the shooting of Banquo from afar in the idyllic courtyard, and later stares Macduff's innocent family in the eyes as he brandishes a knife. This kickstarts a Godfather-esque sequence where murders are committed over a haunting hymn and Macbeth's position on the throne is solidified for a little while.
When the affluent and benevolent Duncan gathers his loyal subjects in his office, he pauses for a moment before announcing his son Malcolm as the next in line. The camera is however situated behind them, over their shoulder, and when Duncan makes that pivotal decision, Stewart is pushed into sharp focus; we see every ounce of disgust and confusion in his face after the witches promised a different outcome. I am reminded of a similar scene in RSC's Hamlet where Stewart as Claudius looks to address Hamlet first, but rebuffs him for the lesser Laertes. These little cinematic touches are great at unveiling subtext and character reactions that would be harder to spot on the stage. This adaptation is quite well done.