Macbeth3
A staple of the festival is Lisa Wolpe’s ambitious three-hander adaptation of “Macbeth,” hence the title played by an all-male cast. For those who find this tragedy sacrosanct to generous pruning and liberal licenses, brevity is not the main issue here. Wolpe’s streamlined version is laudable, only occasionally perplexing in its psychological hairpin turns accomplished in a mere hour for such a dense and complex drama.
This condensed version by its very design lends itself a bit more flexibility in terms of setting and story—in this production, a post-apocalyptic, militarized wasteland, ala “Mad Max” while previous productions have set this adaptation in Iraq. Wherever Macbeth finds himself, he had better damn well believe it and make the audience believe it too.
And there’s the rub, to quote Hamlet. For all the smoke and creepy wailing, this production comes across about as believably disturbing as The Haunted Mansion ride in Disneyland. Except it lasts a lot longer and needs a better soundtrack.
Were it not for the multifaceted Scott McRae in his seamlessly distinct performances of Banquo/Macduff/Duncan/Porter/Witch, (which to pull off all of these roles as successfully as he does deserves special mention), this show would simply have bombed from the moment Macbeth is resuscitated. McRae infuses his characters with an obvious understanding of the text and motivation for each. His emotional Macduff when he discovers his children have been slain is riveting and powerful. Duncan exudes a benevolent confidence while his Banquo is fiercely faultless. As the Porter, however, he “knocks” it out of the ballpark with his wicked mirth, earning a spontaneous eruption of well-deserved applause. God save the Porter.
To say much else almost seems cruel, but by the pricking on my keyboard, something wicked this way comes:
Andrew Heffernan struggles to find anything remotely remarkable about his Macbeth. He looks the part; he simply does not act the part. Whether it’s the lack of chemistry in his scenes with Lady Macbeth—which I will extrapolate shortly—or he loses ground in the speedy resolve from monologue to monologue (a tall task for any seasoned actor), Heffernan’s rapid-fire deliveries sounds more like a barking dog whose just lost his squeak toy. Paired with Kevin Vavasseur’s train-wreck of a Lady Macbeth, one wonders if the ‘ole hound would rather be neutered.
Lady Macbeth…a role most actresses dream of playing, but like Nina from “The Seagull” should be approached with much trepidation. In this version, a man has the enviable opportunity to color this scheming wife with power, authority and handsome if not sensual grace. Instead, Vavasseur approaches the role with affected silliness harpooned in a grotesque costume that looks like a parachute wrapped around a seal in a bad wig. His natural physique revealed in all its lithe beauty as the provocatively poised Devil, shrinks down to a diminutive stature, portraying a victim instead of the wily opportunist that entreats her husband to murder. Throughout their scenes, Vavasseur winces without any cause, making the strike by Macbeth seem almost comic when it finally happens. Unlike John Achorn’s splendid Lady Bracknell in Earnest, (see review) who avoids playing it like drag, Vavasseur lacks the confidence to imbue the masculine spirit in such a strong-minded woman and literally trips in his heels over the set. Two words come to mind: hot mess. Given Vavasseur’s sexy Devil, it’d have been better if he had stayed inside the oilcan portal to Hell and leave the Lady to the ladies.
The set proved to be an obstacle course too many times to count, mainly for Lady Macbeth, but for the other cast members as well. Be advised there is a good amount of smoke throughout, not enough to conceal this production, but possibly enough to irritate those who are sensitive. My advice is to sit towards the back and wait for McRae’s entrances…did I give him special mention enough?
The real tragedy here is “what’s done cannot be undone.” Not without a better wig.“Macbeth3”
The Wicked Wilde Shakespeare Festival
Runs through Sunday, June 27
The Miles Memorial Playhouse
1130 Lincoln Boulevard
Santa Monica, CA 90403
Free parking is on 808 Wilshire Blvd.
PH: 1-800-838-3006
www.brownpapertickets.com