The Curse of Macbeth
From a Jack to a King by Bob Carlton
National Tour, 1997–8
Macbeth is every actor’s favourite bête noire. To quote from it or use any sets, props or costumes from a previous production is deemed a heinous sin. The play is never referred to by name inside the profession, only by a series of euphemisms – “that play”, “the Scottish play”, or simply “the unmentionable.”
Walking Shadows
Some think it’s all to do with the witches. There is a theory that many of their best lines are taken from authentic spells and incantations as used in the black mass, and representing the evil goddess herself, Hecate, on stage is surely asking for trouble.
Another tradition states that the hex comes from the days of the old touring companies. Macbeth was always a money-spinner out in the sticks because its blood-and-thunder plot was so accessible to less sophisticated audiences. If a new play was found to be going badly, the company would switch to Macbeth, so to quote from it at the start of a run was seen to be tempting fate.
The history of disasters started at its premiere. On 7 August 1606 Hal Berridge, the boy actor playing Lady Macbeth, is said to have dropped dead during the performance. He may have been the first to keel over in harness, but he has certainly not been the last. On the other hand, perhaps it is not so surprising that the text has tended to cut a swathe through Thespis’s finest. After all, the part of the thane was traditionally a favourite bravura part for actor-managers of the old school, many of whom were often approaching retirement age – from the wrong direction. And it is a taxing part, requiring a lot of effort and shouting. Then there’s the makeup and the kilt, and the sword fights, and that crown can weigh a ton… It’s a wonder anyone survives it, all things considered.
Unruly Nights
The role has also been a graveyard for otherwise reputable actors. Ralph Richardson donned a wig of startlingly red hair at Stratford in 1952, and made such a poor fist of the part that he later used the experience to jokingly extort money out of another actor: “If you don’t give me five pounds I’ll have it put about that you were in my Macbeth.”
In 1980 Peter O’Toole’s wonderfully over-the-top grand guignol version united the critics in condemnation like few other productions had. So unintentionally hilarious was the Harry Lauder Show (as it became known) that it had eager audiences queuing round the block in every town it visited. One night, as Macbeth staggered out of Duncan’s chamber, his hands dripping gore, an ambulance, with perfect timing, suddenly roared past in the road outside, siren blaring.
Almost as many actors have spilled real blood as fake. A Banquo on Broadway nearly had his ear sliced off by the Third Murderer (“He’s too keen, that chap”), and in Manchester an actress in a completely different play deliberately spoke a few lines from the banned text in order to prove her total disdain for such a puerile superstition. That night she tripped on stage, shattered a wine bottle, and had to be rushed to hospital to have three of her fingers sewn back on.
Sound and Fury
Meanwhile, in another branch of the media (or part of Dunsinane Forest, if you will), the malign influence of Shakespeare’s darkest play has even extended to the TV studios. One producer refused to have the thing mentioned in his hearing, and happily continued to put out the show All Our Yesterdays for several problem-free months until someone spitefully reminded him of the source of that title: “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow / Creeps in this petty pace from day to day / To the last syllable of recorded time; / And all our yesterdays have lighted fools / The way to dusty death…”
It comes from Act V, scene 5 of Macbeth.