Macbeth 2.0: epical show of strength
Michael Fassbender’s turn as the evil thane becomes canonical performance
When the plot of a fictional story is overwrought to the point of excessive familiarity, from literature to psychology and the more recent standpoint of cultural and gender studies, it becomes terrifyingly evident that a new stage production or film adaptation of a classic must necessarily provide new insights into an already overanalyzed work.
Then, it is in this spirit — eager for new sensations and a feeling of expectancy — that audiences watch “the latest Macbeth,” as though it belonged, like opera, to a finite genre from which only new insights or unexpected flights of fancy can be tolerated. Certainly, variations and deflections are customarily viewed as heresy.
The latest film adaptation, which we may refer to as Macbeth 2.0 for reasons of brevity and clarity, introduces deviations from the original as an ingenious manner of shedding light on storyline and character traits that may be overlooked in more literal readings.
Filmed on location in Scotland, Macbeth 2.0 is as foggy and with as low visibility as the Scottish geography where the action takes place. As written for the screen, Macbeth 2.0 sticks to Shakespeare’s play in the way it has viewers understand that this is a fictional recreation partly based on a true historical account. Shakespeare’s text and his contemporary productions presumably did not have the narrative and its readings hinge around this fact. But now, once this accord between writer and viewers is established and agreed upon, Macbeth 2.0 unleashes an uncontrollable force with which Fate, Nature or the Gods endow Greek tragedy or Elizabethan drama.
Directed by Justin Kurzel, Macbeth 2.0 is as ominous as can be expected, but the screenwriters and production designers shift the focus from the pivotal point of the content and form of The Three Witches’ prophecy (four, in this case) to the real and humane dilemma faced by an overambitious warrior intent on either giving in to temptation or sticking to a more analytical, sapient attitude. The moment the Macbeth in Macbeth 2.0 looks around for signs of danger and then up to the sky as though divine directions could be expected to rain down on him, you realize that there could be no better choice to fit in his shoes than actor Michael Fassbender, the embodiment of Macbeth’s temptation and presentiment. His face scarred and fatigued by so many wars under the banner of his King, Macbeth, as personified by Fassbender, is as truthfully devastating as could possibly be expected.
Reflecting the Witches’ inexorable augury and forewarning, there’s no way Fassbender’s Macbeth can retreat back to the safe territory of naturalistic recreation, which would have also been extremely demanding for any actor. Fassbender has previously demonstrated a rare capacity to combine restrain and exultance in adventure stories, heist thrillers, epic dramas and, most especially, in a contemporary urban sexual odyssey (Shame, 2011), in which he draws an agonizing and fascinating portrait of human weakness. Fassbender’s Macbeth, in line with the screenwriters’ decision to shift the focus from ambition to the more mundane feeling of terror and fear of divine justice, is almost always sunk in apprehension and fear of the Gods.
It may be rightly argued that Shakespeare makes it absolutely clear that it is not Macbeth’s own blinding ambition that drives his actions, but rather the aspirations of his ruthless, scheming wife. Most adaptations stick to this notion as a sacred dictum, but Macbeth 2.0, with the right combination of film language and setting and its lead’s riveting performance, creates an unexpected empathy with the murderous Macbeth. If not compassion or apprehension, it’s a shared tremor that bonds Fassbender’s Macbeth and the audience.
Although, as in the masterly Shame, it’s Fassbender’s dazzling performance, to a large extent, that brings the pieces together and drives the hero/villain to his inescapable fate, Macbeth 2.0 features equally remarkable work by Paddy Considine (Banquo), David Thewlis (Duncan), and Sean Harris (MacDuff). Under director Kurzel’s deft guidance, major and minor characters in the story push the story forward in an epical show of strength and determination.
But there always seems to be an obstacle to define an ensemble cast performance’s as “perfect.” In this case, it’s no less than French actress Marion Cotillard, whose sweet demeanour clashes with the implacable Lady Macbeth, regardless of adaptation or transposition. Cotillard, who spent long hours working on her English accent to produce a believable Lady Macbeth in the vocal sense, fails miserably, in spite of her sheer will, to convey Lady Macbeth’s ruthlessness and manipulative power over the weaker Macbeth. It’s not Cotillard’s fault, though. It’s simply that she was miscast to the point of putting at risk the credibility of the rest of the cast.
But fret not. This Macbeth 2.0 is as full of resolution as to demonstrate, in an admirable display of competence, its unquestionable power to overcome any hurdle — even a guileless Lady Macbeth.
Macbeth 2.0, along with Akira Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood, a spellbinding transposition of the Shakespearean text to feudal Japan, must surely reign supreme among the best Macbeths in film lore — and history.