{"id":5799,"date":"2022-07-01T01:31:44","date_gmt":"2022-07-01T01:31:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/farefwd.com\/?p=5799"},"modified":"2022-08-01T03:37:33","modified_gmt":"2022-08-01T03:37:33","slug":"theatres-ritual-power","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/farefwd.com\/index.php\/2022\/07\/01\/theatres-ritual-power\/","title":{"rendered":"Theatre\u2019s Ritual Power"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Theatre\u2019s Ritual Power<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t
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A director and Shakespeare-lover analyzes a recent production of Macbeth<\/em>.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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By Raquel Sequeira<\/em><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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For all that the play can be read as a psychoanalytical gold mine, there\u2019s a reason Macbeth<\/em> is to this day cloaked in superstition. The prologue of Sam Gold\u2019s recent production in Manhattan even began with a cheeky invitation to the audience to whisper together the cursed name, \u201cMacbeth.\u201d Theatre always has incantatory possibility simply by bringing embodied humans into shared space and time. Audience and actors alike put their faith in a theatrical magic that breathes into scripted words and blocked movements unruly life.<\/p>

This duality of theatre\u2014surprise within scriptedness, chaos within constraint\u2014is a mixture of performance and ritual. As a director, I use tools of performance such as movement and diction to communicate some truth to the audience. Yet I am also open to the mystical power of ritual: through the spoken words, the embodied characters, and even the presence of the audience. I feel a tingling awareness that anything could happen in the moment onstage. This is an art form of communicating and listening in real time and space: a conversation.<\/p>

One of the joys of theatre is that comprehension breeds comprehension. Almost always, the audience understands the lines if and only if the actor speaking them does. When I began working with actors in another illustrious production of Macbeth<\/em> (namely, the 4th<\/sup> and 5th<\/sup> graders of Rivendell School in Arlington, Virginia), they sounded like they were speaking a different language\u2014because they were. I remember pulling aside a youthful King Duncan to explain that if \u201cthe Norweyan banners flout the sky and fan our people cold,\u201d it means that Norway, Scotland\u2019s enemy, has won the battle and is flying their flags (1.2.157). I saw understanding and confidence dawn on his fresh face. The next time he practiced the scene, the words were translated without a single hand gesture. In contrast, as I listened to Daniel Craig and his castmates perform on Broadway, a certain je ne sais quoi<\/em> suggested that line-by-line care and curiosity for the text had been not been the priority in the rehearsal room.\u00a0<\/p>

Even more magical than translation is when a production transforms Shakespeare\u2019s language. For four and a half centuries, humans across the globe have been reincarnating the same words in different worlds, revealing more layers of meaning through the juxtaposition with new contexts. Macbeth<\/em> in particular is a play full of weird language that I hoped might find new life in this production. To my disappointment, Gold often seemed to be fighting rather than collaborating with the text. King Duncan, for example, was portrayed as a doddering Trumpian tyrant, creating a confusing clash with all the lines about the goodness\u2014nay, holiness\u2014of this king.<\/p>

A glimmering exception, however, was Amber Gray\u2019s Banquo. Gray seemed to anchor her performance in the scenes between Banquo and her son, Fleance, showing how this nurturing relationship might be the reason Banquo responds so differently to the witches\u2019 prophecy than the childless Macbeth. I get shivers thinking about the scene when murderers sent by Macbeth come upon the mother and son. The scene on the page reads like this:<\/p>

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a torch.\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0
<\/em>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0SECOND MURDERER A light, a light!
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0THIRD MURDERER \u2019Tis he.
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0FIRST MURDERER Stand to \u2019t.
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0BANQUO, to Fleance<\/em> It will be rain tonight.
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0FIRST MURDERER Let it come down!
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0The three Murderers attack. (3.3.23)<\/em><\/p>

Rather than having the murderers in hiding until Banquo\u2019s last line, Gray delivered \u201cIt will be rain tonight\u201d staring down the barrel of a gun pointed at her son; then she wrapped her body around him and took the bullet. These are the theatre moments I live for.<\/p>

This emotional vulnerability\u2014of both performers and audience\u2014is the key to theatre\u2019s ritual power. Yet Macbeth <\/em>reminds us that there is also something risky about imagining and communing in this way. What we \u201cperform\u201d in the sense of \u201cplay-act\u201d we could actually \u201cperform\u201d in the sense of \u201ccarry out.\u201d For all its meta-theatricality, Gold\u2019s production undermined its own power\u2014and the power of the art form itself\u2014by denying the reality of this risk.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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Macbeth <\/em>reminds us that there is something risky about imagining and communing through play-acting. What we \u201cperform\u201d in the sense of \u201cplay-act\u201d we could actually \u201cperform\u201d in the sense of \u201ccarry out.\u201d<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Gold\u2019s Macbeth<\/em> began with the \u201cwitches\u201d stirring an actual stew at the edge of the stage. Anyone familiar with the play might have felt a twinge of excitement. The traditional hags had been replaced with a homey-looking family, their cauldron with an innocuous pot on a hot plate. It was a promising start, reminiscent of all the horror movies set in classic suburban neighborhoods, knowing that evil is more terrifying when it\u2019s close to home. The witches nearly made good on this horror genre throughout the play by repeatedly dismembering the same actor, adding his blood and bits to their stew (was it the same one they\u2019d been cooking since the beginning?), all with gentle movement and tender physicality. But then the actor stood up. The ambiguous awfulness was quickly dissipated. It was as if the actors were worried we might forget that it\u2019s all make believe.<\/p>

The ending redoubles this patronizing. Right before Macbeth\u2019s head was ceremoniously removed\u2014and right after he had slipped in the puddles of blood spewing from his thigh\u2014dinner was served. The entire company came out on stage and sat against the wall to eat the soup that was set simmering at the beginning. Macduff\u2019s murdered child sang a song as she ladled out soup. Macbeth\u2014or Craig\u2014took his bowl with a smile of relief. Whether this was supposed to be part of the play or simply meta-theatre, the message was one of safety. Threats of tyranny, violence, and the supernatural, we were meant to understand, are not real threats.<\/p>

The problem is that they are. Macbeth<\/em> is a timelessly powerful play because, for all its weirdness, it really does hit too close to home. In the spirit of accessible Shakespeare, Gold\u2019s prologue included a description of how the play was \u201ccommissioned\u201d by James I, a Scottish king paranoid to distraction about demonic forces. Ignoring the historical inaccuracy (King James never \u201ccommissioned\u201d any of Shakespeare\u2019s plays), this context makes Macbeth <\/em>all the more remarkable for the way it portrays human wickedness as actually worse than supernatural. Macbeth goes from being one of the last loyal subjects to murdering a wholly upright king, then murdering his best friend, then murdering an entire family. The witches, meanwhile, never do much more than throw some pretty gruesome animal parts into a pot. Their bark is worse than their bite.<\/p>

But King James\u2019s witch hunting was only the tip of the cultural iceberg<\/a>. After narrowly escaping the Gunpowder Plot, the root of human evil became the theological question of the hour. How could you tell if the men plotting to blow up parliament were demon possessed or just . . . bad men? Macbeth<\/em> portrays the tension between these two possibilities\u2014perhaps their coexistence\u2014through the distinctive language of the title character, who often examines his own interior struggles as if he feels possessed by something other:<\/p>

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Shakes so my single state of man
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0That function is smothered in surmise,
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0And nothing is but what is not. (1.3.152)<\/em><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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I was left wanting more of this magic: more connection between the characters and their lines; more engagement with the problem of evil; more true danger.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Whether Macbeth really is possessed, mentally ill, or unmoored from the knowledge of good and evil, it\u2019s clear that Shakespeare wants to confute any easy explanations of human wickedness. The Macbeths are undeniably accountable for the murder of Duncan. Indeed, the certainty of this guilt imprints itself on Lady Macbeth\u2019s mind (and body) and ultimately destroys her. Yet perhaps the Macbeths are not to blame for their susceptibility to temptation. Macbeth\u2019s mind when he encounters the witches is full of the violence of battle; and when Lady Macbeth receives his letters, she is alone and powerless as the childless wife of a minor noble. Rather than humoring King James\u2019s witch fever, these complications of human evildoing evoke God\u2019s warning to the first murderer: \u201cSin crouches at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must rule over it.\u201d<\/p>

This is the terrifying chasm of human agency that Shakespeare always presents to us. We always have a choice. And though Macbeth <\/em>is often read as a play about the role of fate, it puts enchanted language into the actors\u2019 mouths. Lady Macbeth literally conjures spirits\u2014a bold move for a playwright trying to stay in the good graces of a king who\u2019s terrified of witches. Even the obligatory scene of comic relief juxtaposes Shakespeare\u2019s trademark sexual punning with a deeper comment on religious language. Macbeth\u2019s porter imagines himself as the gatekeeper of hell, where, along with an adulterer and a suicide victim, he welcomes an \u201cequivocator\u201d to \u201cthe everlasting bonfire\u201d (2.3.12). Unlike Church-of-Englanders, Catholics under Queen Elizabeth and King James risked death by speaking their own liturgies aloud. Equivocation was a papally-sanctioned workaround. It amounted to saying one thing out loud while saying another your head on the assumption that omnipotent God would hear you just fine. But Macbeth\u2019s porter sees an obvious flaw: If you don\u2019t say it aloud, how do you know you meant it?<\/p>

A director wanting to make a statement about the power of theatre couldn\u2019t ask for better material. Yet in Gold\u2019s self-conscious production, the metaphysics of language was drowned out by dick jokes. In a production otherwise allergic to clich\u00e9, Paul Lazar as the porter supplied an overdose of classic Elizabethan thrusting. And although the scene as written already breaks the fourth wall as effectively as any Brechtian disciple could wish\u2014the \u201cknock knock knock\u201d-ing on the gates of hell are really Macduff knocking on the door of Macbeth\u2019s castle\u2014Lazar delivered another moment of direct address to the audience, this one more forced than the prologue and crass to boot.<\/p>

By the end of the play, Macbeth\u2019s interiority, Lady Macbeth\u2019s conjury, Duncan\u2019s holy liturgy, and even the witches\u2019 nursery-rhyme sorcery is silenced. Instead, \u201cvoices are in swords\u201d (5.8.9). After the final battle and the slaying of Macbeth, the newly-crowned King Malcolm of Scotland promises to restore \u201corder . . . measure . . . and grace on grace\u201d (all of which were key principles of King James\u2019s update to the prayer book for Anglican liturgies). But it\u2019s far too little too late. Language and the world are in chaos.<\/p>

Gold\u2019s production similarly wants to soothe our fears before we leave the theatre, as if watching the cast eat soup onstage like a happy family will make us forget that a moment ago, they were eating a man\u2019s pureed leg. Instead, the ending comes across as flippant to the brutal experience of this play. Even more, this deconstruction diminishes the power of theatre. Though there may not be a true relationship between cast and audience, what we share is our surrender to the magic of the stage. Gold\u2019s ending breaks the spell.<\/p>

As one of the first new shows on Broadway since the pandemic, I believe Gold is right to remind us of the power of our presence, to convince us that we are all witches and theatre-makers. Indeed, the physicality of Gold\u2019s production was bewitching. To an audience programmed to recoil from human contact, the excess of touches and hugs between actors in passing, the lavishness of Ruth Negga\u2019s embodiment of Lady Macbeth, even the satisfying sharpness of Craig\u2019s Hollywood-trained knife hand felt like a kind of rebirth. Yet I was still left wanting more of this magic: more connection between the characters and their lines; more engagement with the problem of evil; more true danger.<\/p>

\u201cWe are all witches and theatre-makers\u201d was the phrase that popped into my head as I watched Gold\u2019s Macbeth<\/em>. Unfortunately, the production failed to converse well: It neither listened to the words of Shakespeare\u2019s play nor sought to make itself understood by the audience. Gold chose the right play at the right time. He just missed an opportunity to collaborate with Shakespeare in bringing us into the coven.<\/p>

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Raquel Sequeira<\/strong> is a freelance dramaturg and a graduate student in the History and Philosophy of Science.<\/em><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A director and Shakespeare-lover analyzes a recent production of 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