Why so many Macbeths?

One might ask, in response: Is there such a thing as too much Mozart? Or Bach? Or Beethoven?

More to the point, here's a more germane question. If indeed there are too many productions of Shakespeare in New York recently, the question should be: Why? And if we’re seeing one play in particular over and over again– why that particular one?

Hamlet used to be the play that “holds a mirror up to nature,” season after season, reflecting what it means to be a man in a given time.

And yet all of a sudden, it seems, Macbeth has become “the new Hamlet.”

Bad luck

Traditionally, Macbeth has been the least frequently performed of Shakespeare’s tragedies. Producers have heeded the Witches’ prophesies, shying away from its dark, disturbing themes and its nihilistic, occult elements. Theater folk call Macbeth cursed. You can’t utter its name in a “green room,” for fear of bringing bad luck. Instead, it’s referred to as “the Scottish Play.”

But now, to everyone’s amazement, New York has seen no less than five high-profile productions of Macbeth in the past two years— all markedly different, all offering a striking contrast in their interpretation of the power-hungry, ambition-driven Thane of Cawdor.

Looking at the varied interpretations of why a man kills his way to the top can be enlightening in our violent times. (Witness our fascination with the Netflix series “House of Cards,” starring Kevin Spacey).

Hospital room

The earliest sign of a Macbeth epidemic appeared in 2008, when Rupert Goold brought his brutal production to Broadway from Chichester. Patrick Stewart lent a frightening force to his power-mad Thane, and Goold’s stark setting (a hospital room that doubled as an abattoir) sent an icy wind through the audience, a harbinger of Macbeths to come.

Next came Arin Arbus’s thoughtful, traditional production of the Scottish play at Theatre for a New Audience in March 2011. The kingly John Douglas Thompson brought a depth and dignity to the conflicted protagonist– whose conscience (like Hamlet’s mind) tortured him to the point of self-destruction.

In contrast to these two larger-than-life performances, a month later Will Keen’s diminutive Macbeth all but disappeared into the darkness of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, in the Cheek by Jowl’s barebones production. This inventive British company stripped the play down to its essentials (no scenic elements or props– just a dark stage and a few crates), and Keen’s unassuming, bewildered persona was overpowered by the void. He was the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time, making all the wrong choices.

Haunted house

In no way were we prepared for the next Macbeth (the third in two months). Punchdrunk, that bold British ensemble, brought us Sleep No More, a wordless version of Macbeth set in a series of warehouses in New York’s West 20s. Luring us into what they called The McKittrick Hotel, the producers offered an immersive haunted house evening of thrills and chills, with the occasional glimpse of a murder scene. This version captivated the 30-and-under audience, and it’s still running today as the ideal downtown “date night.”

Just when we thought we’d seen a full spectrum of Macbeth interpretations, along came Alan Cumming this past April to amaze us with his solo tour de force on Broadway. Cumming plays a patient incarcerated in a mental hospital, closely observed by a silent doctor and nurse. Alone, he re-enacts a two-hour version of Macbeth, playing all the parts– including Lady Macbeth and the three witches. This striking interpretation illustrates the paranoia of modern man, isolated in a cold, and unfeeling world.

James McAvoy’s Macbeth hasn’t made it across the Atlantic yet, but I caught it this past January at the Trafalgar Studios in London, and found it the most violent of those I’ve seen to date. This high-wired production, set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, featured a hyperactive McAvoy and his many men in army fatigues, smeared in blood like war paint.

Lethal virus

That brings me to the current Macbeth, now running at Lincoln Center. Jack O’Brien’s Black Sabbath brew is stirred up by the three Weird Sisters (played by men), who infect the helpless Macbeth (a sensitive Ethan Hawke) with their lethal virus of power and madness. Hawke lends a touching vulnerability and sincerity to the role. Abandoned on that vast Vivian Beaumont Theater stage, overpowered by those frightening witches and a power-mad Lady M, he looks as if he longs to be alone with his thoughts like Hamlet (a role Hawke also played beautifully), and had never gone to Scotland in the first place.

So why is Macbeth “the new Hamlet”? If, as the Prince of Denmark says, the “purpose of playing is to hold, as ’twere, the mirror up to nature,” then what do we see of ourselves in Macbeth? Here are two possible answers:

Addicted to violence

We live in a world where the “black magic” of the Weird Sisters is a poisonous promise of power, ambition and control. We’re obsessed by this lethal brew, we can’t get enough of it— to the extent that we lose track of all the crimes we commit, both personally and collectively, to obtain it.

As a result, we’re addicted to violence and the occult. They’ve become our entertainment (witness the increased popularity in action, fantasy and horror movies, especially with the younger generation). Macbeth offers plenty in that department.

As for “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow”? More Macbeths are on their way. This summer, Kenneth Branagh will appear as the Thane of Cawdor at the Park Armory in New York. Currently, Michael Fassbender (the villain of Twelve Years A Slave) is preparing for the role in a new film version.

As the Bard put it, “Blood will have blood.”