16/08/25

Zoo Southside, Edinburgh

The last thing we need to see is another version of Macbeth. And yet, when Barden Party’s bluegrass adaptation is recommended to us, we somehow can’t resist. So here we are, coffee in hand, ready to spend our Saturday morning in the company of cowboy-witches, banjo players and a murderous would-be monarch.

This is the most fun rendition of the Scottish play I’ve ever seen: it’s a rambunctious, in-yer-face musical, and the seven-strong cast are having a blast. The “travelling troupe from New Zealand” usually perform outdoors, often in people’s gardens, but they’re clearly very adaptable, making the most of Zoo Southside’s tiny black-box theatre space.

The genders are switched: Macbeth (Laura Irish) receives a prophecy from two weird brothers (Caleb James and Wiremu Tuhiwai). Egged on by her husband (Ollie Howlett), she murders Queen Duncan (Tara McEntee) and ascends to the throne. Frightened for her life, Duncan’s daughter, Malcolm (Kit Berry), flees to England but, although he is suspicious of Macbeth, Banquo (Criss Grueber) remains loyal to his friend – and we all know where that leads. The gender-swap doesn’t change anything much, but it does add to the feeling of irreverence: this production isn’t bound by any stuffy idea of what Shakespeare ‘ought’ to be. This is pure entertainment – and yet it remains true to the heart and spirit of the bard’s script.

It’s great to see an actor who uses a wheelchair in such an active role: Grueber’s Banquo is a fierce soldier, celebrated for his prowess on the battlefield and more than ready to show off his fighting skills. Meanwhile, James and Boyle are terribly unsettling as the cowboy-hatted witches, writhing across the stage and screaming in our faces. (At one point, Philip screams back.)

This is very much an ensemble piece, but Irish and Howlett are compelling in the central roles, Irish’s intensity ensuring that we mourn the woman Macbeth might have been, before her corruption. I especially like the way that McEntee exaggerates Duncan’s ego, as she forces people to laugh at her jokes, i.e. the dodgy puns that proliferate in Shakespeare’s dialogue.

The music is lively and engaging, switching from propulsive up-tempo toe-tappers to plaintive ballads at the drop of a stetson.

Murder has never been so full of life.

4.8 stars

Susan Singfield