Goblin Macbeth: by the pricking of my thumbs, something wickedly funny this way comes - Drew Rowsome
Goblin Macbeth: by the pricking of my thumbs, something wickedly funny this way comes 01 Oct 2024 - Photos by Jae Yang
Shakespeare's Macbeth is emphatically not a comedy. As the goblins performing Goblin Macbeth tell us, they chose this particular pertinent "document" because it "has the most blood." Kragva, Moog and Wug are not attempting to explore Shakespeare's dissection of the damage caused by political ambition and believing witches, they are here to scratch their itchy curiosity. Though "to us you are repulsive," the goblins are eager to understand these odd humans and how better to do it than to "attempt theatre," an archaic but effective mode of human communication. They have a thousand questions and they parse the text and motivations constantly, all while producing a Macbeth that has a clarity and power that most productions of the Scottish play only dream of. Not incidentally, the entire evening is uproariously hilarious from besmirching another overly-lauded writer Tolkien, to their bewilderment over the human race's barely evolved concept of gender and sexuality, to arguing over word pronunciation in order to fit the rhyming couplets.
These goblins are too self-centred, bloodthirsty and egotistical to absorb information as they flit from question to question. However self-centred, bloodthirsty and egotistical are also the exact qualities possessed by thriving thespians, and these goblins are wonderful actors. From beneath their oddly immobile face, Wug delivers the "tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow" speech with a gravity and grace that stills the theatre. One would expect goblins to be able to incarnate witches and that "By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes" is chilling foreshadowing is no surprise. What is a surprise is the fragile monstrosity combined with feral sexuality with which Kragva imbues Lady Macbeth. Nor is it a surprise that the moment is undercut—amplified?—by a bit of dry-humping. As the goblins observe, "All theatre is about killing. Killing or fucking. Would you prefer we fuck one of these humans?" One shudders with delight to think about how many audience humans would volunteer.
For creatures with no knowledge of theatre, or Shakespeare, or humans, the goblins put on a slick show. The trio portray all of the 18 characters by adopting variations in posture, attitude and accents. Remarkably, considering they are alien amateurs, there is never any trouble differentiating the characters, their relationships or their relevance to the plot. Even when poor Kragva is stretched by playing three characters at once. While most productions leave the big battle scene offstage, the goblins elicit the audience's help and raise an army of enthusiastic extras. There is considerable audience participation, most of it willing, and it is only after Goblin Macbeth ended that I dimly remembered my longstanding aversion to the audience being more than voyeurs. It is an integral part of the goblin/human interaction that is needed to satisfy both species' curiosity. Certainly preferable from the usual interaction where the humans become carnage. Amplifying the interaction between artist and audience creates the other surprise. The goblins do learn about theatre and its power in a stunningly heartwarming moment that is reached by the most circuitous and comical way.
From the moment that the goblins bumble into the lobby in search of their venue, the audience is off guard and doubled over with laughter. There is no fourth wall. No fourth wall could contain these goblins. They ponder all the "watch your step" signs and bemoan the low ceilings. All of which become fodder for running gags or comic pay-offs. That the goblins, and us, are in the theatre illicitly is a delicate touch though unfortunate for the lighting technicians who are coerced into providing their services. The goblins' joy and awe when the lights come on is another sight gag that launches the through line about the magic of theatre. As is their woe when they discover that they are only supposed to "pretend" to dispatch the characters who contribute to Macbeth's rather high body count. Again, one ponders the potential willingness of the audience to volunteer. Moog who provides the musical accompaniment comes in for, despite his skill particularly with heavy metal accordion, considerable scorn, but is crucial to the atmosphere and many of the gags. It is a dangerous and diaphanous tightrope that these goblins strut along, the tight structure of Shakespeare butting up against inquisitiveness, misunderstandings, and the gleeful exploitation of spontaneous moments.
There has to be one caveat added to this piece. I attended a preview so, despite my inability to imagine how the hilarity and precise pentameter could be heightened, audiences can reasonably expect amplified mayhem and mirth once the goblins are fully adapted to the venue. I am also going to bend a promise made to Tarragon itself, who requested that I not refer to having seen and reviewed a previous production of Goblin Macbeth wherein, some further revelations did occur. But from fear of goblin, or Tarragon, wrath, I will leave that search and the moral implications up to your discretion dear reader. Note: Goblin Macbeth has only improved with time, goblins are as timeless as Shakespeare.
Goblin Macbeth continues until Sunday, October 27 at Tarragon Theatre, 30 Bridgman Ave. tarragontheatre.com