Thursday, February 28, 2008

Macbeth

So I'm trying to respond to Rupert Goold's Macbeth starring Patrick Stewart. I write that very purposefully, because I think in part some disappointment comes from the fact that it was Rupert Goold's Macbeth starring Patrick Stewart. When I think we were expecting (and had been told as much by the press and by BAM) Patrick Stewart's Macbeth directed by Rupert Goold. This production could have starred anyone. What's puzzling to me is why Mr. Goold chose Patrick Stewart to play Macbeth, and why Mr. Stewart accepted.

A lot has been said about Mr. Goold's "concepts." I, for one, don't mind concepts, director's theatre, what have you. The antipathy against it in this country is baffling to me. But my entire desire to direct is to avoid the stage -- I don't have to do it, only the actors do. In that vein, concepts are fine -- as long as they excite and engage the actor, because that has to happen before the actors can do as much for the audience.

In this case, I felt that some of the conceptual flourishes didn't exactly work (ie: the now-it's-here, now-it-isn't cabaret; the quasi-Eastern/Eurasian anthem). But I think overall the concept was, if not entirely novel or fulfilling, tremendously exciting. And I think, at a certain point, the actors were excited by it as well. But at some point, the air got let out of the bag.

All through the first act, I felt engaged -- but by potential, not by the real. By the second act, it was clear that potential was not to be realized that evening. Almost all of the cast, from Mr. Stewart down (as is often the danger of being "led" by a star) seemed exhausted.

But to whom can we attribute the "bloodless, lifeless, listless" nature (per Mia) of the performance? A clever director? A puzzled cast? A bad director? A bad cast? Did something suffer in the transfer from Britain, just in the lag of time?

To me there were three major issues that crippled this Macbeth, none of which can be easily parsed out to actor, director, designer, playwright (ha!), whomever:

1) Length and pacing

Macbeth is Shakespeare's shortest, and probably fastest, play. No one ever needs a three hour Macbeth -- at least not a relatively traditional presentation of the script. Cut that motherfucker up.

I didn't mind some of the re-arranging. I didn't mind some of the little cuts here and there, except when they seemed made to "clarify" -- ie: the king Duncan says, "From hence to Inverness, and bind us further to you" before he accompanies Macbeth back to his home. In this production, Duncan says, "From hence to Glamis, and bind us further to you." Perhaps this underlines that Mackers is the thane of Glamis for the dim ones out there who didn't pick up on it.

But it doesn't work -- Macbeth has only been thane of Glamis for a few short hours, or days (since a comrade's death in battle) -- "By Sinel's [the previous thane of Glamis] death I know I am thane of Glamis/but how of Cawdor?" he asks the witches. He would not reside in Glamis either ever or at least not so soon after having such an honor conferred.

Don't underestimate your audience. But don't bore them either. Illuminate. Accomplish that and "clarification" won't be necessary.

The pacing of the second half was especially deadly -- and not in a good way. You could have commandeered the fucking Titanic through some of their pauses. Granted the last scene of the fourth act (Malcolm and Macduff) all the way through the end of the play is not easy to pace, especially those last battle scenes constantly cutting between the good guys and the bad guysssssssssss -- no, it should be guy. Only Mackers, we need to see his isolation. Even Seyton shouldn't be thrilled about this turn of events, but once Lady M is dead, needs to try and get the fuck out of there. But this Seyton, who also urinated (literally) all over the excruciating and excruciatingly unnecessary Porter scene, seemed straight from hell and more bent on victory than our tragic hero himself.

All told, the life was sucked out by strange (sometimes deliberately so) pacing and by complete allegiance to the mostly complete text. I don't know if it's the American in me, but I don't need (or want) all of it. Let's hit the highlights in the here and now, and parse out the text in class, thank you.

2) The concept as concept

I have no problems with concepts. To me, a concept is merely an attitude taken toward the play, extended however much one pleases. Talk of concepts/styles/whatever as "getting in the way of the play" infuriates me, as does talk of how a play works on its own, let it come from the script, etc. That's all well and good, but that's STILL a concept. Not to mention, for the overwhelming majority of plays, it leads to sucky theatre. Not sucky plays, but sucky fuck-ass theatre. The two are quite different.

In Macbeth, however, there seemed to be the idea of the concept...as concept. What was it particularly about Stalinist Russia and slasher films? I do hate hate hate moving things to different time periods and trying to draw complete and useless parallels; that to me is not particularly interesting, or "relevant." Whatever relevance occurs to an audience member happens because there are human beings onstage. I go much more for the expressionist, stripped down, essentials look -- in that kind of BAM Harvey Theater situation. In our current Mackers, it's about exploiting the space. I didn't feel their set exploited the space.

In this case, the Russian re-orientation was an interesting starting point that wasn't well-articulated. I thought it was going to sort of decorate an ultimately stripped-down point of view, but no universality shown through. To me the video was an obstacle, using photo and film footage to dictate absolutely the re-setting, instead of letting what was already onstage spin out into our imaginations.

I don't know if the actors didn't "get" the concept, if they didn't like it, if the director didn't communicate it well enough, but it seemed to me there was a real disconnect between the actors and their performances with the physicalized concept of the production. That disconnect was not interesting (as it can sometimes be). At any rate, the concept failed to engage the cast first, and if they're not engaged fully, we won't be. In this case, the concept was the "concept" -- it didn't mask the text, per se, but it led to this jarring discord between the actors, the text, the production, etc., that didn't coalesce into any sort of fulfilling event. It neither disappointed nor surprised my expectations: it underwhelmed.

3) Wrack

There was a lack of wrack in this production.

Blow, wind! Come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back!

There was no invitation to the sheer destructive force of specified theatre. There was no sense of "bring it on, motherfuckers!" There was no recognition of the insurmountability of the text, and the great disturbed heart at its center.

This Macbeth was accomplishable, scaleable, doable, and only marginally exciting. As Mia pointed out, Mr. Stewart was playing the ending from the beginning. There was no thrust, no jump off the cliff, no "we're all in this together, so 'come, wrack'!"

Mia: "The Emperor's New Clothes...I mean Macbeth, is moving to Broadway. So six weeks worth of Lyceum audiences can congratulate themselves for being so cultured." Exactly. The production lacked danger; did not strike; refused the audacity that the play itself offers to its cast and crew to ask its audience some inscrutable, nasty questions. It was one of the more scrutable, explainable, and polite Macbeths I've known.

And in the chance circumstances where one couldn't explain -- after the second time P-Stew crumpled a cigarette, the man behind me threw up his hands and said, rather loudly, "Well, I don't know what that's supposed to symbolize!" -- one really didn't care, because nothing offended or arrested you deeply enough to question it. And if there's any one play to question, it's the play that points a finger at the audience and says, watch what one man can do -- and for two hours (preferably), you are unable to stop him.

------

For an extraordinary giving and fulfilling alternative, please see Passing Strange at the Belasco Theater (believe it or not) on West 44 Street at 6 Avenue. And tell everyone you know to do so as well.

When I think of more, I'll try to re-phrase more clearly. All best --

2 comments:

Mark Jaynes said...

I can't really seem to bring myself to think about this production anymore. I'm certainly not as vitriolic as Mia is. I'm mostly just apathetic. It was so underwhelming. It wasn't fun it wasn't scary it wasn't challenging it wasn't entirely boring but it wasn't entirely anything. Eh. I say. Eh.

I felt kind of duped--trying my best to put so much thought and energy into something that I felt didn't have the same amount of thought and energy put into it. But certainly dollars. Mr. Piccard, even, wasn't great. He was just doing things he's really good at and the world knows he's really good at with very little effort. Eh.

The best part of the evening was definitely the subway ride home, making fun and picking the thing apart. We all totally felt unabashed to tear it to shit or say what was nice or mock any of the actors. I really had a blast. So that's something.

Mark Jaynes said...

I mean Captain Piccard. Excuse me.