Credit: Sophie Gagnon-Bergeron
At The Cultch May 30, 31 and June 1, 2018
Tickets from $15 at tickets.thecultch.com
Posted May 30, 2018
Now and again – and not very often – I just want to write, “See it!” and not a word more. Macbeth Muet, co-created by Jon Lachlan Stewart and Marie-Hélène Bélanger (as part of upintheair’s rEvolver Festival) is one of those times. ‘Muet’ means dumb or speechless and this hyper-innovative is wordless, sexy, smart, bloody and very, very funny. Mostly it’s the most wildly imaginative take on the Scottish play I’ve ever seen. See it!
Credit: Sophie Gagnon-Bergeron
Our hero meets his comeuppance in just under an hour and the show includes three prologues – announced on a rollout of paper towelling that is quickly thrown into the trash can: the early years of Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth trying to make a baby; ditto the Banquos and the Macduffs. Macduff is represented by a hockey mitt; Lady Macduff is an oven mitt. There will be mitt sex.
You have to see it to believe it, so see it.
The trash can is stuffed by the end of the show with bloody table cloths, broken eggs and Styrofoam plates (stabbed over and over again). The floor and wall are bloody and eggy as are Macbeth (Jérémie Francoeur) and Lady Macbeth (Clara Prévost).
Francoeur and Prévost move at breakneck speed, disappearing and reappearing from behind a white table-clothed table (looking much like The Last Supper). They smile, they grimace, they shake and shudder. Steak knives float through the air. The weird sisters are three of those origami paper things we used as kids to tell fortunes (defined variously by Wikipedia as cootie catcher, chatterbox, salt cellar, whirlybird or paku-paku). Banquo’s ghost is a white Styrofoam plate with two black eyes; Lady Banquo is a white Styrofoam plate with two black eyes and eyelashes; Fléance, their young son, is a desert size Styrofoam plate with two small eyes.
Each scene is announced with a little “ding” from offstage. At one point, Macbeth is weary and doesn’t pick up the action right away: “Ding.” “Ding”. “Ding”. Alright, alright. He gets moving.
Credit: Sophie Gagnon-Bergeron
The music is all over the spectrum and is fantastically matched with the action. Most memorable – and getting the biggest laugh – is Lady Macbeth’s mad scene set to Supertramp’s “Dreamer”.
Familiarity with Shakespeare’s Macbeth lets you in on all the references but even if you don’t know Macbeth all that well, it’s still a tremendously smart, bloody good show.
See it.