‘The Tragedy of Macbeth’ Is an Absolute Masterpiece
New York Film FestivalWilliam Shakespeare’s Macbeth has been the source material for two big-screen masterpieces—Orson Welles’ 1948 Macbeth and Akira Kurosawa’s 1957 Throne of Blood—and to that eminent company one may now add Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth, which takes as its inspiration not only Welles’ predecessor but the works of Carl Theodor Dreyer, Fritz Lang, F.W. Murnau and Ingmar Bergman (to name just a few). The first feature produced by the director without his sibling and long-time partner Ethan, Coen’s film (premiering Sept. 24 as the Opening Night selection of the New York Film Festival before theaters and Apple TV+) is a misty, malevolent, marauding beast, shot with expressionistic flair in silvery black-and-white and in a virtually square 1.19:1 aspect ratio, and headlined by a titanic Denzel Washington as the ambitious Scottish general and Frances McDormand as his calculating wife. At once faithful to the Bard’s play and reminiscent of the auteur’s fatalistic noirs (notably, The Man Who Wasn’t There), it’s a triumph that breathes fiery new life into an enduring classic.Teaming with accomplished cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel (Inside Llewyn Davis, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs) rather than long-time collaborator Roger Deakins, Coen dramatizes The Tragedy of Macbeth in borderline-abstract fashion, situating his famed tale in sets marked by brutalist architecture, endless fog, and shadows that are so sharp they seem capable of severing an artery. Alternating between towering vertical arrangements whenever focusing on his human protagonists, and circular, cockeyed and diagonal lines during those passages involving the three prophesying witches (Kathryn Hunter) who set Macbeth’s fate in motion, Coen crafts a visual scheme to die for. There are more stunning chiaroscuro images in the course of these 105 minutes than in most other 2021 releases combined, and they allow the director to tap into the tragedy’s stage-bound roots while simultaneously rendering the action an exercise in pure, bravura filmic storytelling. Bolstered by a score of low and piercing strings, thunderously portentous knocking, and the persistent caws of avian harbingers of doom, it’s an aesthetic marvel, its every sight and sound infused with psychological torment.Coen’s approach casts the proceedings in self-consciously stark, minimalist terms, and yet despite such severity, The Tragedy of Macbeth boasts a pounding, panicked pulse. At its center stands Washington as Macbeth, the Scottish Thane of Glamis whose fortunes are forever altered when he and trusty right-hand man Banquo (Bertie Carvel) stumble upon a trio of witches, here envisioned by Coen as a single form whose croaking sisters are initially heard but not seen, and then spied in a reflecting pool before taking their place by their sibling’s side. The mystics foretell Macbeth’s destiny to become the Thane of Cawdor and, shortly thereafter, to occupy the Scottish throne, and when that first prediction comes true, Macbeth is seduced by the potential for seizing absolute power. As Banquo sagely opines, deceivers get their hooks into prey by proffering small truths that make their subsequent lies appear legitimate. That proves to be the case for Macbeth, whose fallen-under-their-spell condition is beautifully conveyed by Washington via a subtly strained smile as he tells Banquo, days later, that he has ceased thinking about their supernatural encounter.Read more at The Daily Beast.
Read More
