Any new retelling of Macbeth has to work hard to justify its existence after so many versions. That this one does is already an achievement in itself. Casting a brooding Micheal Fassbender, already grimly resigned to his fate from the outset, and Marion Cotillard scheming blindly and without regard for consequences, is a good start. When this is married to superb staging and cinematography, all tones of hellish grey and crimson, through bleak landscapes and visceral, bloody battles, the end result begins to become very good indeed. Mists and smoke constantly envelop turning points in the plot, not just creating a natural confined stage out on the heaths, but accentuating the sense that it is the supernatural that is always in control and that Macbeth is effectively a victim of destiny. Fassbender increasingly wears a ghostly smile at each setback as this becomes apparent to him, and Cotillard in turn is given a moment of horror at the sudden realisation of what she has helped to engender.
There is a considerable amount of reinterpretation of the soliloquys in terms of how they are verbalised: some are made wholly internal, others projected to a far wider audience, and occasionally this does not serve any apparent purpose. The accents of the actors, notably the two leads, are also incongruous. But then the film pulls off a second piece of inventiveness in the costumes and scenography: both involve such a melange of styles, from Roman field tents through Eastern Orthodox clergy to woad-daubed warriors that insisting on authentic Highlands brogue becomes somewhat pedantic.
Despite critical acclaim, the film fairly much bombed at the box office, strongly suggesting that audiences have no appetite any more for Shakespearean language, even though the stories themselves continue to be recycled ad infinitum in less challenging forms. Therefore this screen version may be the last for a long time. If so, it serves as a fitting testament to the essence of the play.
7/10
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