One Dark Night in Scotland

Macbett

Written by Eugene Ionesco

Directed by Andrei Molotiu

At the Agassiz Theater

Through March 15

MOTORIZED BROOMSTICKS, decapitated balloon-heads, hitchhiking warlords... Once again Shakespeare has been made an unwitting accomplice to the theater of the absurd, this time in Ionesco's Macbett

As the title implies, Macbett is Macbeth with a twist--more than a twist, actually. lonesco puts Shakespeare through a meatgrinder and winds up with something that falls between Monty Python and the Marx Brothers. If this production is more silly than profound, though, much of the dubious credit should go to director Andrei Molotiu, who has turned the play's darker moments into absurd self-parody.

Faced with a script that relies heavily on the juxtaposition of real horror and slapstick humor, Molotiu has taken the easy way out by emphasizing the gags and glossing over the play's dark side. In one sense, his choice was apt, for although his cast is wonderfully comic in a self-conscious way, most of the actors here seem incapable of any real depth.

The plot centers around a series of coups in an unnamed archduchy, in which increasingly more ruthless leaders usurp the throne. lonesco takes this all-to-obvious premise--e.g. that power corrupts--and revels in its inanity. While facing execution for leading an unsuccessful rebellion, Candor (Glen Whitney) declares that he is a historical dead-end, and that his "rebellion was necessary, if only to prove I'm a criminal." Much of the humor of the play arises from the hackneyed, emotionally-inappropriate intellectualizations in which the characters are endlessly engaged.

The play opens with Candor and Glamiss (Dan Buchanan) resolving to stage a rebellion against the Archduke Duncan (Danny Vanderryn). Whitney and Buchanan carry themselves with the kind of frantic nervousness of the classroom cut-up you'll remember from high school; they generate their fair share of laughs, but you can forget about the illusion of reality.

AFTER AN imaginitive battle scene consisting of stylized lighting, sound effects, and theme music, the rebellion is put down by Macbett (Scott Carneal) and Banco (Gintaras Valiulis). Carneal is almost plausible--his is physically suited for the role and commands a reasonable stage presence--but like most of the cast, he lacks depth. Valiulis' performance is as flat as a day-old Coke, and he is constantly and annoyingly brushing the hair out of his eyes. The best of the male cast is Vanderryn as Duncan, the cowardly archduke whose motto seems to be "safety first." Stupid but vengeful enough to keep power, Duncan laughingly orders the slaughter of thousands of enemy troops, a prelude to the hilariously stupid ballon-decapitation scene.

The rest of the plot parallels Shakespeare's original, but never very closely. Macbett meets the witches while hitchhiking in a storm, and the self-professed personification of faithfulness has to be literally forced into committing Duncan's murder. The witches are quite good; the female portion of the cast (Rebecca Menes, Daniele Schecter, and Sarah Halper) is much more capable than the male. Schecter plays a delightfully sleazy general with leather skirt and riding crop, and ably changes gears to play a maid in the second half. Menes, as Lady Duncan-cum-witch, slinks gracefully around the stage, an able temptress. She should have given the rest of the performers lessons in poise.

DESPITE THE LIMITATIONS of the cast, the play is hilarious. Unfortunately, many of these laughs seem to come at the expense of the script, and some of them come at the expense of the cast. The set for the first half of the play is remarkable only for the number of elements in it which can be accidently knocked over, a feature which the cast makes ample use of. Also, one of the entrances is so narrow that exiting performers must maneuver through it slowly and awkwardly, usually wreaking havoc in the process. Fortunately, the set for the second half is much better--and much less cluttered.

Matt Buchanan has written a varied and pleasing musical score, especially effective during the battle scene. Occasionally though, the music is played over several scenes of dialogue, an annoying innovation apparently taken from TV. It ought to have been left there. At one point, the cast makes an ill-advised attempt to sing along to a Mr. Rogers-style piano. For all you kids out there, do whatever you like in the shower, but please, please, DO NOT DO THIS ON STAGE.

Believe it or not, this review is an endorsement of Macbett. Remember how funny it was when Alfalfa tried to act like a professional showman? This is the same thing, sort of. The cast isn't great, but the script is, and together they manage to work.