MacDeth
The Cockpit
15th August 2016
1 Star
Much to my shame, I have not seen a great deal at The Camden Fringe this year, but amidst visits to Edinburgh Fringe Festival and Brighton Fringe before that, along with a hectic viewing schedule in London, this has been one of my first opportunities. I am hugely excited by theatre festivals; I love the buzz, the variety – not to mention the discovery of some little-known gems. Camden Fringe is now in its 11th year, spread over 25 venues, including in excess of 250 productions. It certainly is growing, and amidst this plethora of performances, I defy anybody not to find something that tickles your fancy.
The Metro once described Camden Fringe as “a dizzying alternative to the Edinburgh Festival extravaganza – frequently weird, sometimes wonderful and always unpredictable”. This is certainly the case, and when agreeing to attend Rogue Shakespeare Company’s MacDeth!, playing until 27th August, at The Cockpit, I had no idea what to expect. The production is billed as “Macbeth gone wrong. Shakespeare meets Monty Python!”, which in itself caught my attention being an admirer of their work and knowing how hideously difficult such clowning is to perform – it requires a great deal of commitment, skill, courage and discipline. The promise of “a production gone wrong” is also a tried and tested genre, whether it be the hysterical Farndale Avenue Housing Estate Townswomen’s Guild Dramatic Society’s Macbeth, the sophisticated Noises Off, or the current rip-roaring success that is The Play That Goes Wrong. Sadly, for me, MacDeth! fails to deliver on either of these promises.
I should say, that I am normally delighted to attend a production at The Cockpit and have, over the years, seen some wonderfully crafted and inventive productions. It is a hugely accommodating and versatile space with an inherent intimacy, which really can add to a production’s success, however, in this space MacDeth! feels somewhat lost. I understand the restrictions that small productions like this face throughout festivals – and the requirement for comedies to be brighter lit – but the expansive general wash of light that is employed throughout the 65 minute show fails to maximise the potential that this black box theatre provides: some greater degree of sophistication in design could aid the action along with its changing locations, and ultimately serve the comedy better. All of a sudden, the intimacy I associate so strongly with The Cockpit is lost and the venue in which MacDeth! unfolds appears cavernous.
As you enter the auditorium there is an awkward welcome from the cast as you are taking your seat. A topless man, wearing a kilt, speaking with a vague Sean-Connery-like accent (who we later learn is MacDeth) is handing out chocolates, whilst members of the audience are encouraged to take to the stage before the performance commences to have their photograph taken with the outlandishly camp King (who transpires to be Duncan), accompanied by a bearded Drag Queen (the Witch – there is only one … from the cast) and a young lady in a dominatrix-like cat suit (who we later learn in Clinton – Smith’s female version of Shakespeare’s Malcolm). There is more – albeit brief – audience participation to follow, and whilst the participants were great sports and took part enthusiastically, for me, my taste alarms were already sounding. Perhaps if it had been handled in a more assured manner I would have bought into it better, but the quality of the audience interaction bordered more on “winging it” as opposed to improvisational. At least we are immediately given an insight into what we might expect to follow.
The piece, written and directed by Ryan J-W Smith (who also plays MacDeth), is written in rhyming verse, with the occasional smattering of the Bard’s original language. It is loaded with gag upon gag, upon punch line upon punch line, and the lines are littered with innuendo. In theory, this is a piece that I would lap up, but on this occasion even within its genre of humour, it lacks a certain degree of craft and sophistication. Rather than releasing the humour, the verse format begins to feel relentless and restrictive – the jokes prove simplistic and obvious failing to take us by surprise. In terms of performance, the text needs some pace and the actors need to read the audience and react to the laughter more sympathetically. Labouring the gag does not make it more funny – in the same way that leaving a pause for laughter when it fails to come does not force an audience to contribute more. Instead, what we see is a faltering propulsion in the action and holes occurring where the energy drops. Even the transitions between scenes take far too long.
The theatrical language of the production is ultimately confusing. Are we watching the actors playing actors who are consequently playing these roles, or are we expected to suspend our disbelief and surrender to the idea that these characters of the story (ie MacDeth and his companions) are the only people up on stage. This production feels much more like an adult pantomime rather than the Pythonesque absurdity it promises. There are many moments where the actors struggle for their words and feel distanced and disembodied from their own portrayals and the whole things lacks an awful lot of truth. However absurdist your humour may be it must be rooted in truth; no matter how large or ridiculous Monty Python’s characters proved to be, they were utterly committed to them, and as an audience, you are rendered with no choice but to believe.
Above all, this production is simply trying too hard. Trying too hard to match a style of performance. Trying too hard to be funny. Trying too hard to make you like it. And we all know what happens whenever someone tries too hard.
There are, as with any production, moments that work, but they are few and far between. Lady MacDeth whipping out a mobile phone to reveal her husband’s text instead of letter, has some wit to it, and Howard Grater in his roles as Duncan and MacBuff (amongst others), embodies the language (both textual and physical) of the piece considerably stronger than the rest – his work as MacBuff is genuinely entertaining. The political message that runs through it is an interesting one but again feels a little emphatic and these sober moments would work to greater effect if the comedy was properly served.
In the interest of fairness, I should point out that this was the company’s first night – at this venue – and the turnout was low and performing a zany, absurd comedy piece like this to a small crowd can be disconcerting. My own personal taste, of course, comes into play and this evidently is not a perfect pairing for me, but one thing I cannot stress enough is that this is not Pythonesque. Maybe this production would have faired better at a different venue, where there was a heavier emphasis on creating a rowdy atmosphere – perhaps where drinking formed a central part of the evening.
It grieves me when I write a review that could be considered any less than gushing; it neither helps the individual production nor theatre at large. I do hope this production keeps growing as with continued work and attention to detail it certainly could up its game. Perhaps more importantly, I do hope that it attracts some larger crowds, even if for the actors’ benefit, in the hope that a fuller house and more raucous crowd might give it the reaction they so desperately crave – and need – to make this show anywhere near to “taking flight”. I am all for supporting theatre, and the Camden Fringe undoubtedly has some sound, interesting offerings, nevertheless, if you can only see one production as part of the festival, in this case – sadly – I would suggest you look elsewhere than MacDeth!.
