On his first solo outing, Joel Coen captures Shakespeare’s Scottish play carefully. As stylistic as the Coen’s are, Joel is ready to relinquish some of his own vision to fit the Bard’s, successfully achieving a riveting adaptation that cannot be topped.
In 2015, I was studying Macbeth. Although I do remember writing my essays somewhat begrudgingly, I still reminisce about that time: studying Shakespeare may not be as glamourous as teenagers want him to be, but there is a reason why everyone can relate to forcibly memorising quotes half an hour before the exam. I didn’t want to read through a script, I wanted to be engaged, immersed, and coincidently Justin Kurzel’s Macbeth had just been released. Kurzel created a historical epic that enthralled me yet I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, and I couldn’t put my finger on it; maybe the Scottish play is simply too theatrical to ever be truly cinematic.
According to Joel Coen, it isn’t. Directing without the aid of his brother, Ethan, The Tragedy of Macbeth is more than a store-bought adaptation but a stylistic remediation. Combining the austere direction that has brought the Coens fame and accolades with the witty, verbose, and surreal Shakesperean text is a match made in heaven – the classic auteur revitalised with a modern but respectful perspective. As tempting as it may be, Joel doesn’t rule the fictional Scotland with an iron fist, instead nurturing the original material and supporting it with an expertly practiced hand.
Where Kurzel created a vast epic, Joel has taken a step back and returned to the roots of the play: theatre. Rather than shooting in a cinematic fashion, showing off all the nifty little tricks that accompany the progress of film, Coen pulls back the scale. As characters enter and leave scenes, they exit just like they would on stage, quickly and orderly as the next pair are about to enter through the ever-present fog. Surrealistic in theory, the compellingly off-putting pacing voids any effort at complexity, imitating the world of theatre as the story is constantly moving forward.
The clean and seemingly faux sets, the harsh spotlight lighting, the mostly practical effects, the lack of any visuals outside of the relevance of the scene; there is little reason to call this a film. Rather, it may be better to view it as a cinematic-theatrical experience, one which blends the elements of the two rather than reimagining one to fit the other. And, with theatre comes the pressure to perform, especially for the toxically entwined titular couple.
Macbeth (Denzel Washington) and Lady Macbeth (Frances McDormand) are two roles that cast long shadows. Not only is it a challenge of emotion; both of them ranging from innocently ambitious to madly broken, but the weight of Shakespeare’s paragraphs are a challenge in themselves. Quaint then and quaint now, repeating the words that many have said before you can be daunting but both Washington and McDormand are ready for the fight.
Washington is an older Macbeth, one that has known the loyalty of his King and would never betray it. Ambitious in his motives, he is neither cruel nor traitorous, so when the Witches’ words taint his thoughts, he crumbles. He is powerless to his greedy humanity and Washington’s descent into dictatorship is proof to Shakespeare’s immortality – you don’t need to modernise the backdrop of an already intrinsically relatable parable to get the point across. McDormand is controlling and brutal as she attacks her husband’s masculinity, but her own slippery slope towards insanity is scarily serene. Enigmatic and reserved, McDormand is the frontrunner for the best on-screen Lady Macbeth with Washington matching her every step of the way.
With a handful of scenes cut and others reordered to accommodate a better clarity, Joel Coen does stray from the original, and for the better. Rather than the nameless ‘Murderer 3’, Ross (Alex Hassell) plays a more integral part of the plot as he is present for Banquo’s death, is implied to have killed Lady Macbeth instead of her reported suicide, and hides Fleance to be saved by himself after Macbeth’s fall. Normally, this departure would be irksome at best but I have always felt that there was something missing from the original text, something to tie everything up post-Malcolm’s victory. Ross is the perfect fit: an agent working for his own gains rather than for others, an exemplar of every theme Macbeth represents.
For many this may be the best adaptation of Macbeth to exist. The film isn’t depicting poetry but is inherently poetic: Joel Coen isn’t afraid to take creative chances as he refuses to ever show the exterior of a castle except the tips of its turrets through the clouds; the Witches (Kathryn Hunter) are all the same person, adding to the medieval mysticality; the angelically harsh lighting is practical and emotive as it casts cruel shadowy blankets across the plotting eyes of the Macbeths. This is neither a gruelling epic nor a recorded live show but a coupling of the two, a choice that works here but may not anywhere else. Regardless, I wish it came out in 2015.