A well-known story challenges the tellers to show what they can imagine, where they can take us. So it is with Macbeth, the familiar tale of a king-killer driven mad by guilt. You don’t go to learn the story, but to see how it’s told.
At the LA Shakespeare Center, the folks of The Vagrancy are giving the Scottish play a wicked new spin.
It’s not the story they tweak so much as the world around it. Tristan Jeffers’ set brings us into a murky post-apocalypse of rusted steel and crooked, barren trees. Twisting witches glide silently through the fog and filthy air, moving as if their genes — like those of the trees — have been altered in the struggle to survive. Matt Richter’s softly leaking soundtrack erupts in sudden drums, and we’ve begun.
This isn’t medieval Scotland. The characters do keep their names and speeches, but who they speak to may surprise. Most importantly, it’s Queen Duncan everyone bows to, which subtly establishes that this world is rooted in the feminine — it’s not a patriarchy. Donalbain is Malcolm’s valiant sister, not his brother. And when Macduff confides his plans to his wife (instead of a male bystander), she becomes a far more sympathetic figure, her murder far more heinous.
The performers work with energy and intelligent invention. Ann Colby Stocking’s Duncan dominates scenes as a royal leader must, but with gentle generosity and personal courage. Alana Dietze takes Lady Macbeth from whip to willow and back, and lets us watch her being led step by step out of her comfort zone (instead of just showing up crazy at the end). As Macbeth, Daniel Kaemon makes every line and moment clear, especially those in which he’s torn against himself; we feel with him the horror of necessity, in his ever-narrowing choices and in their ever-widening consequences.
The secondary characters are similarly well embodied, from Elitia Daniels’ brave Lady Macduff to Austin Iredale’s methodical (and creepily enthusiastic) murderer. Of special note are two child actors — Mia Moore as Macduff’s child, and Andrew Grigorian as Fleance — who exhibit comfort on the stage and hold character admirably. Then, of course, there are the witches. Marissa Dorrego Brennan, Kelly Perez and Carolyn Deskin capture our attention from the moment we enter, and rivet it every time they appear.
Interestingly, the witches — who have most of the play’s famous poetic lines — utter almost none of them. They dance their scenes, and in so doing create an intensely physical atmosphere. In fact, this play is as much embodied as spoken, from the gentle affections of the families (Duncan’s, Banquo’s, Macduff’s) to the Macbeths’ grasping sexuality to the many gruesome murders.
This brings us to the hidden genius of the piece: Caitlin Hart, founding artistic director of The Vagrancy. Long known for tight direction and a penchant for exploration, Hart must count this Macbeth among her masterworks.
Her vision is truly wicked, rooted in natural wisdom and intuition, where things grow (and die) according to their inmost laws, however crooked they may appear. It’s wicked to set the witches writhe-dancing through scene after scene, ominously quiet; wicked to have them re-animate Banquo’s corpse; wicked to send young Fleance, a future king, across the stage at the end.
Hart’s wicked vision is omnipresent, challenging, and always rich with meaning. And her ability to develop the vision with every member of the company is impressive.
Shakespeare’s Macbeth is a timeless tragedy, as ambition wreaks havoc upon individual lives and the world’s order. Hart and The Vagrancy make it a tragedy for our time, as a ravaged world seeking to regain its balance is torn off center by those who would kill for power. This is a bold, unsettling re-telling of a story we will always need.
Macbeth, by William Shakespeare, directed by Caitlin Hart.
Presented by The Vagrancy, at the Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles, 1238 W. 1st St., LA 90026.
Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00,
Sundays at 7:00,
through Nov. 20th.