by Christopher Piatt, Time Out Chicago
Some adaptations of Shakespeare seem to dare you to accuse them of vandalism, as if they attempt to force social squares and pinched purists to out themselves by objecting to infidel interpretations. See the Wooster Group’s Hamlet, which is famously performed in front of a screening of the 1964 Richard Burton film version, or 500 Macbeth, which ends with three bombastic clowns vomiting spaghetti sauce onto each other. One might expect something similarly scandalous from the SITI Company, Anne Bogart’s troupe of immaculately trained actors whose infectious energy and perverted sense of playfulness have in the past resulted in sterling, surprising and carefully choreographed clusterfucks (bobrauschenbergamerica, Hotel Cassiopeia).
Yet its take on the Scottish play is an unexpectedly subdued affair. Framed as a rehearsal for a 1940s radio broadcast of the play, Radio Macbeth strips the text to 90 minutes of essentials and is delivered often by actors who remain stationary, relying mostly on vocal performance and codirector West’s subtle soundscape as the delivery system for Shakespeare’s primer on power lust. (Although Bogart gets marvelous results from James Schuette, who created both the sleek period costumes and the bare-stage set, and Brian H. West, whose atmospheric lights flatter both the actors and the skeletal soundstage look, their contributions reinforce the conceit more than the play.)
The real possibility of drama in total stillness, which is what this experiment appears to be getting at, is best realized by Ellen Lauren’s “out, damn spot” speech. Performing only in the light of a single candle, the statuesque Lauren shows us muscles by delivering Lady Macbeth’s breakdown as a near-opera. Lauren’s textured vocal instrument and unmatched emotional precision make this moment an acting lesson. Unfortunately, the rest of Radio Macbeth doesn’t reach the same level of gracefully contained frenzy.