Skip to main content

Joel Coen’s Haunting, Stunning Macbeth Revivifies the Age-Old Tragedy


“By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.”
                                                    -Act IV, scene I, lines 44-45

In the last month, we’ve seen two movies come out written and directed by one half of an acclaimed filmmaking partnership. The first of course was Lana Wachowski’s The Matrix Resurrections, made without the input of her sister Lilly. And now similarly, a new adaptation of Macbeth has arrived courtesy of Apple TV+ by Joel Coen, for the first time without Ethan. And the Coen Brothers are so particularly established as a unit, having been one for nearly forty years now, that the idea of them working separately is jarring. What is a Joel Coen movie on his own?
Well on one hand, he’s not really on his own. He’s got Shakespeare to work with. And in a sense you can maybe see why this didn’t interest Ethan. There have been a million adaptations of Macbeth, the last noteworthy version a mere six years ago –it’s not the most original idea for a movie project. And yet there is something exciting about new Shakespeare adaptations, especially when they’re coming from filmmakers with a certain auteur flare. Whatever else you have to say about Ian McKellen’s Richard III or Julie Taymor’s Titus or Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet or Joss Whedon’s Much Ado or Taymor’s The Tempest (which I actually quite liked), they are interesting to see. Joel Coen certainly leaves an impression on The Tragedy of Macbeth that is unique and compelling.
His film is rather minimalist in design, more evocative perhaps of the Orson Welles version of the 1940s, than the more popular elaborately realist interpretations that have followed. There are contradictions all over the place between the situational context and the expressionist aesthetic. Dunsinane Castle does not look like it belongs in the Middle Ages and even the exteriors are palpably artificial. It feels thus like an abstract theatre presentation, and I’m sure it is the intent. 
But make no mistake, this movie’s visuals are not by any means dull in this capacity. Limitations are strengths in Joel Coen’s Macbeth, and the imagery crafted here is some of the most evocative in Shakespeare since Kurosawa started adapting the Bard. The sets feel unmistakably Weimar German at times, brick-like and blank and with harsh edges in the interiors, while the exteriors are coloured in a dreamlike aura of pretty artifice. This choice in art design really sets the film apart, even Welles’ wasn’t this interesting to look at. And the cinematography and lighting is even more astounding. Bruno Delbonnel exceeds himself here with some of the most exquisite shots and imagery he’s composed for the Coens in their long partnership. The meeting with the witches for instance, where we only actually see one witch (Kathryn Hunter), but with two reflections in the pool of water on the foggy battlefield. Or there’s the wooded grove where Macduff (Corey Hawkins) meets with Malcolm (Harry Melling) that seems to run endless into bright light. The lighting is intense, the excellent heavy contrasts beautiful, this film even topping Passing for the best-looking black and white movie of the year -in fact one of the best looking, period. Coen and Delbonnel pay close attention to the frame at all times too, highlighting the characters in relation to their world and the themes, as well as the mystifying, eerie mood.
This is a Macbeth that dips its’ toe into horror, of a kind based in creeping  powers, nightmare illusions, and fatalism that you might expect to see from Robert Eggers or even David Lowery. It’s the first time a Coen has penetrated the genre, certainly to this unambiguous a degree. There’s a graveness to every action, which is in keeping with the play, though the film exacerbates it with its’ slow dissolves, deathly imagery (the witches are interpreted as transmogrified crows), and lingering shots in vacant spaces. Moreover, some very clever manipulation of the script and casting changes the meaning to emphasize some of these horror ideas that Coen gets out of the play. There is of course that notion of fate to the story, Macbeth fulfilling one part of a prophecy but desiring to change the rest of it and being cosmically punished for it by supernatural forces. One of Coen’s choices is to expand the part of Ross (Alex Hassell), a minor supporting character of the play who has been granted a larger role seemingly in each subsequent adaptation. But apart from adhering to the theory of Ross being the mysterious third murderer of Banquo (Bertie Carvel), Coen doesn’t add any text that wasn’t there originally, he merely moves it around, re-contextualizing it, and gives Ross more focal attention and curious insinuations about his role in the story.
Hassell is very good in this part, as is Carvel and Melling and Hawkins. Brendan Gleeson makes for a great, if very obvious Duncan, and Hunter is the most creepy witch I think I’ve seen in one of these movies. But we’ve got to talk about our stars of the piece, and Coens’ fantastic casting of his wife Frances McDormand, and especially Denzel Washington in the title role. It seems expected that great actors of a certain calibre will play Macbeth at some point in their career, whether for stage or screen -as much as they would also play Hamlet or Lear. And Washington has earned his right to play this figure, his first Shakespearean role on film since Kenneth Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing (though he’s played the likes of Othello and Richard III on stage). Washington’s Macbeth is cunning and calculating, a man late in his career tempted by power and one last chance to have it. There’s a weariness, but also an exuberance there -and the ultimate madness is played with captivating force. It’s also just really cool seeing Washington incorporate his own performance persona into the part -and they marry wonderfully. McDormand is likewise strong as his Lady, playing sharply that influence over Macbeth in his hesitancy, and her own deep convictions. She’d played the part on stage and is still tangibly comfortable in it. I like too how Coen hones in a bit more on her reticence after Macbeth has achieved the crown, subtly having her contend with the gravity of what they have done. In contrast, Macbeth grows only more determined and fanatical.
There’s a noteworthy bluntness with how the ending is dispatched, but then it’s also quite intriguing. In the final scene, one characters’ lines are given to another, which casts suspicion over the narrative ultimately -a very shrewd way of rewriting this classic without ever changing a word. The Tragedy of Macbeth doesn’t have any garish to it the way some other versions have -the attack on Dunsinane in fact happens almost entirely off-screen, as it does in the play. And yet, it might be the most visual movie version of this story we’ve yet seen, purely off of its’ compelling artistry. It may even demonstrate a sliver of Joel Coen’s independent cinematic voice. It is sublime imagery, stellar acting, and as riveting a take as any great reworking of Shakespeare. It makes me eager for more.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Disney's Mulan, Cultural Appropriation, and Exploitation

I’m late on this one I know. I wasn’t willing to spend thirty bucks back in September for a movie experience I knew was going to be far poorer than if I had paid half that at a theatre. So I waited for it to hit streaming for free to give it a shot. In the meantime I heard that it wasn’t very good, but I remained determined not to skip it entirely, partly out of sympathy for director Niki Caro and partly out of morbid curiosity. Disney’s live-action Mulan  I was actually mildly looking forward to early in the year in spite of my well-documented distaste for this series of creative dead zones by the most powerful media conglomerate on earth. Mulan  was never one of Disney’s classics, a movie extremely of its time in its “girl power” gender politics and with a decidedly American take on ancient Chinese mythology. It got by on a couple good songs and a strong lead, but it was a movie that could be improved upon, and this new version looked like it had the potential to do that, emphasizing

So I Guess Comics Kingdom Sucks Now...

So, I guess Comics Kingdom sucks now. The website run by King Features Syndicate hosting a bunch of their licensed comic strips from classics like Beetle Bailey , Blondie , and Dennis the Menace  to great new strips like Retail , The Pajama Diaries , and Edison Lee  (as well as Sherman’s Lagoon , Zits , On the Fastrack , etc.) underwent a major relaunch early last week that is in just about every way a massive downgrade. The problems are numerous. The layout is distracting and cheap, far more space is allocated for ads so the strips themselves are displayed too small, the banner from which you could formerly browse for other strips is gone (meaning you have to go to the homepage to find other comics you like or discover new ones), the comments section is a joke –not refreshing itself daily so that every comment made on an individual strip remains attached to ALL strips, there’s no more blog or special features on individual comics pages which effectively barricades the cartoonis

The Wizard of Oz: Birth of Imagination

“Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue; and the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.” I don’t think I’ve sat down and watched The Wizard of Oz  in more than fifteen years. Among the first things I noticed doing so now in 2019, nearly eighty years to the day of its original release on August 25th, 1939, was the amount of obvious foreshadowing in the first twenty minutes. The farmhands are each equated with their later analogues through blatant metaphors and personality quirks (Huck’s “head made out of straw” comment), Professor Marvel is clearly a fraud in spite of his good nature, Dorothy at one point straight up calls Miss Gulch a “wicked old witch”. We don’t notice these things watching the film as children, or maybe we do and reason that it doesn’t matter. It still doesn’t matter. Despite being the part of the movie we’re not supposed to care about, the portrait of a dreary Kansas bedighted by one instant icon of a song, those opening scenes are extrao