The thing about adapting Shakespeare, and especially a play as well known, regularly performed, and often adapted as 'Macbeth,' is that as a director a fair bit of the work is already done for you. Unless you aim to substantially revise some aspect of the play for a new vision, then the groundwork for the story, dialogue, characters, and scene writing is already laid in; unless you're changing the setting, the basic conceptions of the art direction, costume design, hair, and makeup are already established. The great challenge is to be faithful to the source material while leaving your own mark on the legacy of the Scottish play, and to that end some directors have been more successful than others, in various ways. So what of filmmaker Kit Monkman and his 2018 interpretation?
I appreciate the gumption of trying something different. No matter how highly esteemed a tale may be, there comes a point where complete mimicry from one iteration to the next becomes stale and uninteresting. Even if some come off better than others, or weaker, no one can say that any cinematic realization of 'Macbeth' to date isn't readily distinguishable in some way (or multiple ways) from its kin; contrast this with the average formulaic TV movies on certain networks - the thrillers of Lifetime, the romances of Hallmark, the monster flicks of SyFy. And so it is, too, with Monkman's picture; this definitely looks and feels like a creation all its own, even as the screenplay is, broadly, extremely familiar. However, there does come a point where creativity can go too far and supersede story, or when choices of style are made that do not come off as well as anyone thinks they do. Unfortunately for Monkman, both these notions apply to his 'Macbeth' from the moment we press "play."
In the art direction, in the proliferate computer-generated imagery that defines the "sets" and otherwise visuals, in the waxy, plastic sheen that is laid over top the fundamental sights before us, and in the cinematography, there is a plainly evident effort to accentuate the artificiality of the presentation. We see, for example, the cheeky, stacked depictions of multiple characters in multiple rooms in the same structure, a method that Wes Anderson commonly employs (e.g., the diagram-like view of the submarine in 'The life aquatic with Steve Zissou') - if Wes Anderson opted not for colorful splendor but the overproduced falsehood and Grim Dark color palette of Zack Snyder. We watch the camera sweep, sway, and zoom over digital creations as obvious in their unreality as the ruined Earth of the 'Matrix' films, the distant and otherworldly realms of Marvel or DC superhero flicks, or the most carefully rendered environments that big budgets can achieve in modern videogames. I take no issue with the relatively austere appearance of settings themselves (the rooms in which scenes take place), or of the costume design, hair, and makeup; on the other hand, given the overproduced nature of the title, and its forward inauthenticity, such comparatively unsophisticated facets come across as false modesty, and in turn serve to amplify the sense of fabrication. Sometimes Snyder is too restrained a point of reference, for The Asylum also comes to mind throughout these two hours.
Clearly the idea was to update a seventeenth-century play with twenty-first century aesthetics, and perhaps to introduce William Shakespeare to new viewers in this fashion. Only on an individual basis can the success of this endeavor truly be judged, yet to me the attempt rings desperately hollow. The substance of the classic is lost in the push to dazzle us with unremitting flair, and our engagement is easily and quickly forsaken; the dark, bloody, compelling spectacle of ambition, prophecy, conspiracy, violence, and death is subsumed by the empty spectacle of green screen phoniness and otherwise unimpressive adornments. Only if this had been rendered in 3D could the effect have been more regrettable. Yet would that the problems began and ended with the imagery, for they absolutely do not.
I can't say to a certainty how much of the trouble here can be attributed to the cast, and how much to Monkman. I trust that the cast would prove themselves if given the opportunity elsewhere, and assume that the direction is mostly to blame, but then maybe Monkman was just struggling with this project. One way or another, most scenes as they present, and the acting at large, simply do not look good, even putting aside how they fit into the garish visuals. 'Macbeth' is a play characterized by fiery passion in most any treatment; here most scenes are rendered with a terribly flat, dull tone. Sometimes the actors are straight-up mumbling! Very, very rarely does it feel like the acting and direction are firing on all cylinders and producing the desired result - so rarely that I couldn't even pinpoint where it happened. There are also times when the acting impresses, but the direction guides that performance in an ill-advised direction; I think chiefly of Akia Henry's performance of Lady Macbeth's big scene at the beginning of Act V, filled with superb, gut-wrenching emotional depths, which is then somewhat hamstrung by Monkman's oversight. Conversely, there are also instances when the acting is so overcharged that the outcome is laughable; in the banquet of Act III, for example, we so handily discern the difference between the acting we should see, and the chewing of scenery we're given instead, that actual Scotsman Mark Rowley, portraying the titular character, sounds more like an American badly trying to imitate a Scotch accent.
Monkman and his co-writers notably and considerably alter some dialogue and scenes, but I don't think this is particularly worth discussing, even as I abjectly disagree with many such decisions; this is the nature of adaptation. There are actually some good ideas here, I think, in the man's conception of bringing life to a new 'Macbeth.' Yet the production was geared so heavily toward Slick And Cool visuals (okay, maybe Paul W. S. Anderson is also a reasonable comparison) that any useful, enticing ideas that the conception may have borne are stretched thin and torn asunder. Add to the overwhelming, overbearing falseness the flailing faults of acting and direction, and watching this feature becomes a laborious act of sheer force of will. I'm glad for those who get more out of this than I do, and I repeat that I do appreciate the basic notion of trying something new with material that's tried and true. I also firmly believe that those who do earnestly admire Monkman's version should subsequently watch at least two or three others - any at all - to get a far better, far more meaningful sense of what the Scottish play is, and can be, and should be. This 2018 title can claim the benefit of some skill, intelligence, and imagination behind it, but as far as I'm concerned the simple fact of the matter is that these advantages and all energies were bent toward the exact wrong qualities, and the picture suffers in turn. This 'Macbeth,' sadly, doesn't nearly make the grade.
I appreciate the gumption of trying something different. No matter how highly esteemed a tale may be, there comes a point where complete mimicry from one iteration to the next becomes stale and uninteresting. Even if some come off better than others, or weaker, no one can say that any cinematic realization of 'Macbeth' to date isn't readily distinguishable in some way (or multiple ways) from its kin; contrast this with the average formulaic TV movies on certain networks - the thrillers of Lifetime, the romances of Hallmark, the monster flicks of SyFy. And so it is, too, with Monkman's picture; this definitely looks and feels like a creation all its own, even as the screenplay is, broadly, extremely familiar. However, there does come a point where creativity can go too far and supersede story, or when choices of style are made that do not come off as well as anyone thinks they do. Unfortunately for Monkman, both these notions apply to his 'Macbeth' from the moment we press "play."
In the art direction, in the proliferate computer-generated imagery that defines the "sets" and otherwise visuals, in the waxy, plastic sheen that is laid over top the fundamental sights before us, and in the cinematography, there is a plainly evident effort to accentuate the artificiality of the presentation. We see, for example, the cheeky, stacked depictions of multiple characters in multiple rooms in the same structure, a method that Wes Anderson commonly employs (e.g., the diagram-like view of the submarine in 'The life aquatic with Steve Zissou') - if Wes Anderson opted not for colorful splendor but the overproduced falsehood and Grim Dark color palette of Zack Snyder. We watch the camera sweep, sway, and zoom over digital creations as obvious in their unreality as the ruined Earth of the 'Matrix' films, the distant and otherworldly realms of Marvel or DC superhero flicks, or the most carefully rendered environments that big budgets can achieve in modern videogames. I take no issue with the relatively austere appearance of settings themselves (the rooms in which scenes take place), or of the costume design, hair, and makeup; on the other hand, given the overproduced nature of the title, and its forward inauthenticity, such comparatively unsophisticated facets come across as false modesty, and in turn serve to amplify the sense of fabrication. Sometimes Snyder is too restrained a point of reference, for The Asylum also comes to mind throughout these two hours.
Clearly the idea was to update a seventeenth-century play with twenty-first century aesthetics, and perhaps to introduce William Shakespeare to new viewers in this fashion. Only on an individual basis can the success of this endeavor truly be judged, yet to me the attempt rings desperately hollow. The substance of the classic is lost in the push to dazzle us with unremitting flair, and our engagement is easily and quickly forsaken; the dark, bloody, compelling spectacle of ambition, prophecy, conspiracy, violence, and death is subsumed by the empty spectacle of green screen phoniness and otherwise unimpressive adornments. Only if this had been rendered in 3D could the effect have been more regrettable. Yet would that the problems began and ended with the imagery, for they absolutely do not.
I can't say to a certainty how much of the trouble here can be attributed to the cast, and how much to Monkman. I trust that the cast would prove themselves if given the opportunity elsewhere, and assume that the direction is mostly to blame, but then maybe Monkman was just struggling with this project. One way or another, most scenes as they present, and the acting at large, simply do not look good, even putting aside how they fit into the garish visuals. 'Macbeth' is a play characterized by fiery passion in most any treatment; here most scenes are rendered with a terribly flat, dull tone. Sometimes the actors are straight-up mumbling! Very, very rarely does it feel like the acting and direction are firing on all cylinders and producing the desired result - so rarely that I couldn't even pinpoint where it happened. There are also times when the acting impresses, but the direction guides that performance in an ill-advised direction; I think chiefly of Akia Henry's performance of Lady Macbeth's big scene at the beginning of Act V, filled with superb, gut-wrenching emotional depths, which is then somewhat hamstrung by Monkman's oversight. Conversely, there are also instances when the acting is so overcharged that the outcome is laughable; in the banquet of Act III, for example, we so handily discern the difference between the acting we should see, and the chewing of scenery we're given instead, that actual Scotsman Mark Rowley, portraying the titular character, sounds more like an American badly trying to imitate a Scotch accent.
Monkman and his co-writers notably and considerably alter some dialogue and scenes, but I don't think this is particularly worth discussing, even as I abjectly disagree with many such decisions; this is the nature of adaptation. There are actually some good ideas here, I think, in the man's conception of bringing life to a new 'Macbeth.' Yet the production was geared so heavily toward Slick And Cool visuals (okay, maybe Paul W. S. Anderson is also a reasonable comparison) that any useful, enticing ideas that the conception may have borne are stretched thin and torn asunder. Add to the overwhelming, overbearing falseness the flailing faults of acting and direction, and watching this feature becomes a laborious act of sheer force of will. I'm glad for those who get more out of this than I do, and I repeat that I do appreciate the basic notion of trying something new with material that's tried and true. I also firmly believe that those who do earnestly admire Monkman's version should subsequently watch at least two or three others - any at all - to get a far better, far more meaningful sense of what the Scottish play is, and can be, and should be. This 2018 title can claim the benefit of some skill, intelligence, and imagination behind it, but as far as I'm concerned the simple fact of the matter is that these advantages and all energies were bent toward the exact wrong qualities, and the picture suffers in turn. This 'Macbeth,' sadly, doesn't nearly make the grade.