Macbeth – A Tale told by an Idiot is a delicious title for a one-man production of Shakespeare’s Scottish play. But let’s be clear about one thing. Creator and star Eric Woolfe certainly set himself a monumental challenge here, but he’s no idiot.
He brings to the task impressive acting chops and stage presence, plus a versatile toolkit that is familiar to aficionados of his company Eldritch Theatre. Inside that toolkit are puppets, magic tricks and sleight-of-hand, a tickle trunk of sound effects, the most versatile of voices, and garishly fluorescent funhouse aesthetics.
Eldritch Theatre specializes in mounting horror-comedy carnival confections in the cosy confines of the Red Sandcastle Theatre, of which Woolf is the managing director. Macbeth is right in his wheelhouse. It features not one, not two, but three witches. It’s the spookiest and most supernatural of Shakespeare’s tragedies. And it’s one of the bloodiest.
Standing behind an oval table that bulges towards the audience like a weird, ghostly bar, Woolfe plays a human Macbeth. He reaches below the bar or to shelves behind the bar to bring forward various puppets, which represent the play’s other characters.
Call him the Bard-tender as he mixes, manipulates and voices these elements in a potent concoction of horror and hilarity that is poured out in an economical 80 minutes.
The puppets come in a hilarious variety of shapes and sizes. MacDuff is a large marshmallow head with a thick Scottish accent. Banquo is a teddy bear. Lady Macbeth and the 3 witches are heads that are mounted, like a hat, atop Woolfe’s head. The bottom line is simple: anything – from a child’s toy to a playing card – can be a puppet, and any puppet can be a character. The human- and puppet-driven drama plays out atop and behind the bar, thanks to Woolfe’s dexterity and energetic voicework, plus a willing suspension of disbelief.
The show’s awesomeness lies in the otherworldly integrity of its whole, which is greater than the sum of its misshapen parts. With skilled (if demented) direction by Dylan Trowbridge, Macbeth – A Tale told by an Idiot is an accelerating 80-minute roller coaster ride stitched together from Shakespeare’s authentic language, which is delivered through:
- dizzying puppet interactions and dismemberments, where red fabric spurts in place of blood
- vintage weird horror movie sounds
- neat sleight-of-hand and magic tricks (Yes, Macbeth, it is a dagger which you see before you. I don’t know quite how Woolfe does it, but it’s very cool) and
- a climactic sword fight that needs to be seen to be believed.
Unifying this mad, disparate venture is Woolfe. No mere carnival barker, he’s a fine actor who compellingly realizes Macbeth’s ambition and descent into madness. Implausibly, his gripping, show-stopping soliloquies punch through the veneer of absurdity to deliver implausible pathos. Yet all the while – starting just eight lines into the play with a hilarious mock-rhyming joke – Woolfe is mining a rich vein of comedy in our 21st-century reactions to Macbeth’s archaic language and potential impenetrability.
When after 80 minutes, all has been said and done, you’ve been transported to a world of sorcery and silliness. You’ve laughed . . . frequently and hard. You’ve been surprised and, often times, delighted. And you’ve been alternately moved – and baffled – by authentic, recognizable Shakespeare . . . it’s just been cut open like a fabric-spurting puppet and spilled across the stage in all of its absurdity, grotesqueness and humour.
Is Macbeth – A Tale told by an Idiot itself a “tale full of sound and fury, signifying nothing”?
Perhaps. But if so, nothing’s never looked so good . . . or entertained so much.
Macbeth – A Tale told by an Idiot has been extended until February 24, 2024. Missing it would be folly. Reserve tickets at eldritchtheatre.ca.
© Scott Sneddon, SesayArts Magazine, 2024
