Macbeth (An Undoing). Rose Theatre Kingston.

Writer and director Zinnie Harris has, she tells us in the show blurb for Macbeth (An Undoing), “a lifelong curiosity about female characters in classical stories”. It is a concern that here drives an alternative version of the Scottish play in which Lady Macbeth and not her husband takes centre stage. This is Shakespeare’s Macbeth yes, but one whose narrative has been refracted a hundred times in the darkly tinted mirror panels that make up Tom Piper’s spooky set. Opinions will vary as to whether the patchy, dense, and overlong work adds much to the Shakespeare universe.

Harris’ Lady Macbeth (the always watchable Nicole Cooper) is certainly a piece of work. It is as if those spirits to whom she prays “unsex me here And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty” have taken her summons seriously and, genie-like, done exactly that. She becomes that version of masculinity that sees bloody slaughter as its key motif, and then wonders why the men in the vicinity will not respect her for it. It is, of course, unarguable that women have as much of a right to be monstrous butchers as men, but one wonders whether murdering your sister-slash-cousin Lady Macduff (Emmanuella Cole) in cold blood necessarily qualifies as a feminist act. Lady Macduff is stuck in a loveless marriage, the unborn baby she carries may in fact be Banquo’s (James Robinson), and her jewels keep mysteriously breaking so her fate here feels doubly unfair.

An old theatrical axiom has it that the Macbeths have the best marriage in Shakespeare, so passionate is their shared venal ambition. Harris has the couple kiss and canoodle early on, even professing love for each other at one point, yet in this version theirs is a strangely passionless relationship. “Look at me” the Lady chides her husband as he avoids her gaze. “Do as you are told” she insists as he equivocates over a ghastly deed. This is more mother and son than husband and wife. Adam Best’s Macbeth behaves with the whining brooding self-pity of a thuggish football hooligan who has just seen his team lose badly. Outwardly he is looking for trouble, but underneath he just need some serious maternal affection.

Macbeth (An Undoing) follows Shakespeare’s narrative path more or less up to the point in act three where Banquo’s ghost appears, with the tale unfolding in a quirky mix of modern language and original text. The juxtaposition in dialogue sometimes incites more laughs than insights. “Oh fuck, I know who you are” Macbeth says when the witches first appear. “I’m the thane of fucking Cawdor” he yells with jubilation when Duncan (Marc Mackinnon) promotes him after defeating the Norwegians. “This place stinks of booze and vomit” says Macduff (Thierry Mabonga) as he fist-bumps stroppy teen Malcolm (Star Penders) and surveys the post-banquet debris (the witches reappear here as downtrodden cleaners moaning about the guests’ manners).

Banquo’s appearance spurs Macbeth’s descent into madness. He takes to sleepwalking nightly and thence refuses to leave his bed. By way of explaining her husband’s madness Lady Macbeth exclaims “there are scorpions in his mind”. With the fate of Scotland at stake someone must take charge and the Lady spots an opportunity. “That which has made them drunk has made me bold”, she says with steely determination before telling her staff that “all the business that was due the king bring to me instead”. The country certainly needs a steady hand. But the question is, will it accept a woman? As the nation’s thanes gather to plot rebellion our protagonist struggles to find a new narrative, one in which females have the same options as men.

Overseeing all these shenanigans is the weirdly ambiguous figure of Carlin (a gloriously malign turn by Liz Kettle). Witch, porter, servant, and Greek chorus all in one, the character breaks the fourth wall to comment on audience members’ drink choices and tell us “there’s a universe between me and you”. At one point Lady Macbeth calls out for stage assistants complaining she is in the wrong scene. Subsequently she demands numerous costume changes. These and other meta-theatrical touches add complexity to the piece without bringing much by way of illumination. The second half drags on twenty minutes too long and Harris struggles to find an ending that works.

On the plus side the production is certainly atmospheric, aided by tremendous chiaroscuro lighting from Lizzie Powell. There is top notch sound design from Pippa Murphy: rain, the gurgling croak of ravens, sinister atonal music, and a strange persistent knocking emanating from hidden corners of the castle.

Writer:  Zinnie Harris (in a new version after William Shakespeare)

Director: Zinnie Harris