Author Biography

Peter J. Smith is a former trustee of the British Shakespeare Association and Reader in Renaissance literature at Nottingham Trent University. He is the author of Social Shakespeare (1995) and Between Two Stools: Scatology and its Representations in English Literature, Chaucer to Swift (2012), and co-editor (with Deborah Cartmell) of Much Ado About Nothing: A Critical Reader (2018). His work has appeared in several leading journals.

Three witches rose from among the dead and dying soldiers, but the techno beat to which they danced drowned out the majority of their opening incantations. Audibility throughout was problematic and much of the textual subtlety and poetry were lost. Ellinson and Rachel Denning's Porter in particular spoke so speedily -perhaps compensating for the length of the production -that their lines were incoherent at times. The Porter's speech, delivered by Denning dressed as a stagehand attempting to deal with a lighting issue, seemed to have been re-written for a specifically Mancunian audience. In addition to referencing ongoing controversies about the redevelopment of the city centre by inviting a 'property developer' into hell, there also appeared to be a comment on Manchester's reputation as a rainy city. Unfortunately, much of the intended humour was lost through inaudibility.
The role of the weird sisters also proved problematic, given the updated milieu of the production within a contemporary conflict. There was a sense in which they were portrayed as a powerful influence over the Macbeths, as they morphed into ever-watchful and omniscient servants within the household, but neither Macbeth nor her wife were convincing believers in demonic power, nor was there sufficient chemistry between the pair to make the ambitious Lady Macbeth appear convincing as the power behind this particular throne.
Ellinson treated both the witches' promised glory and their ultimate betrayal jokingly, with knowing looks and sardonic smiles to the audience, while Uhiara initially presented as too controlled and firm of purpose to submit to superstition. This dismissive treatment of an occult power that must have so shaken Shakespeare's original theatregoers was highlighted when an actor took a seat among the audience and began to crunch his way through a particularly noisy snack. A witch immediately reacted, dragging him onto the playing area to represent the 'sailor's wife' who 'munched, and munched, and munched' (1.3.5). The laughter that ensued undermined any attempt to portray the weird sisters as a decisive influence on the decision to murder Duncan. A further textual reference to the potential for diabolic influence on the Macbeths was excised by the omission of the character of Seyton. His role as addressee of Macbeth's lament that (s)he has 'lived long enough' and deliverer of the news of the queen's demise were instead undertaken by an unnamed servant. This, allied to the lack of any meaningful emotional or physical connection between the murderous couple, left the production struggling to justify or explain their brutal actions.
Sardonic humour was a constant presence, as the newly crowned couple's celebratory banquet was presented as a combination of Mad Hatter's fancy-dress tea party and a raucous rave that transformed into a game of musical chairs. This clearly emphasised the uncertainty of their ill-gotten status and provided a rationale for a lack of an empty seat at the table for Macbeth. Banquo, played with clarity and audibility by Theo Ogundipe, joined the game as an oversized teddy bear unmasked by a Lady Macbeth, unaware of the spectral vision from which Macbeth recoiled in horror as her victim's bloodied head was revealed. Banquo's execution was effectively staged as his vehicle was halted at a hastily erected roadworks manned by murderous workmen wearing high-vis jackets. The inclusion of Lennox (Nima Taleghani) as a supervising Third Murderer, who provided distraction as those suborned by Macbeth attacked Banquo with heavy mallets, appeared unnecessary within the world of this production. Fleance fled via a metal ladder up to the first gallery, obscured from sight in the gloom created by Colin Grenfell's atmospheric lighting.
The production's most effective moments came at points of quiet when the text itself took centre stage. The murders of a heavily pregnant Lady Macduff and her young son were chillingly effective, as was her husband's grief-stricken reaction. Unusually, Macduff's heartfelt cry 'He has no children' (4.3.217) was presented, not as despair that no equivalent grief could be wrought on the childless Macbeth, but as an explanation for the business-like Malcolm's unfeeling exhortation to 'be comforted' (4.2.213). Similarly, Lady Macbeth's sleepwalking was a convincing portrayal of the Doctor's diagnosis that 'Unnatural deeds / Do breed unnatural troubles' (5.1.61-2). The doubling of Mathie's murdered Duncan with the Doctor who proclaims that 'the patient / Must minister to herself' (5.3.47-8) added a chilling reminder of the guilt that weighed so heavily upon her troubled patient. Ellinson too became less a 'fiend of Scotland' (4.3.235) and more vulnerable to the consequences of her murderous reign, with a softly spoken, heartfelt delivery of 'Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow' (5.5.18).
The decision to double Banquo and Fleance with Old and Young Siward also proved effective in emphasising Macbeth's failure to remove Fleance's threat to her throne, just as she was about to lose it and life itself. Ultimately, though, this was a production that suffered from too many confusing directorial decisions, lacking effective dramatic pacing as well as any indication of the impetus behind the protagonist's actions.

Author biography
Having gained an MA in Shakespeare and Cultural History at The Shakespeare Institute, Kath Bradley undertook an MPhil, examining the performance history of the collaborative play, Sir Thomas More. This led to a doctorate from Nottingham Trent University, investigating how contemporary theatre directors have presented two further collaborative plays, Edward III and Arden of Faversham, in order to address specific political issues. À À À À À À À À À À À À À Measure for Measure, directed by Gregory Doran for the Royal Shakespeare Company, Barbican Theatre, London, 7 December 2019, mid stalls, stage right. (colour plates 7a and 7b) Reviewed by: Peter J. Smith, Nottingham Trent University Three years ago, in an article published in Cahiers, I sought to identify a tendency in main-house Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) productions and, in particular, a characteristic directorial style of the company's Artistic Director, Greg Doran. This, rather unimaginatively, I labelled Doranism: 'Doran is so concerned about theatrical clarity that he too often crosses the border into literal mindedness' (Cahierś Elisabéthains, 89 [2016], p. 60). I argued there that while clarity is laudable, its