Written by Andreas Babiolakis

The Tragedy of Macbeth opens December 25th, 2021, to a limited theatrical release, and will be featured on Apple TV+ on January 14th, 2022.

I don’t think anyone was skeptical of what Joel Coen could do by himself once it was announced that The Tragedy of Macbeth was going to be the first solo feature film effort by any of the Coen brothers, but wow. This film is ferocious. I couldn’t help but think of around fifty other films while watching this latest adaptation of a work by William Shakespeare. Robert Bresson’s stirring Lancelot du Lac, especially with how poetically wretched Macbeth comes off (and the sparing usage of gore and horror unless it’s absolutely necessary). The Seventh Seal and how self-sacrifice and damnation are felt during the middle ages. The Lighthouse with the square ratio and deep dive into pure delirium. Then, there’s Peeping Tom: Michael Powell’s pure deviation from the signature style that the late auteur created with partner Emeric Pressburger. We’ve seen Joel Coen operating at a dark level (No Country for Old Men, for starters), but this is ridiculous. With the amount of insanity and loathing at the heart of Macbeth, we’ve never had a more obsidian film by the great American filmmaker.

What makes Macbeth resonate even more is how much of a sincere adaptation it is on a literary level (if there are changes, I won’t know exactly what they are since I’m not a Shakespeare expert, but this is more or less a straightforward adaptation of the play). It’s as if the curse that comes from uttering the Scottish play’s name is felt throughout this picture, and that it can claim you next. Never before was I more aware of the cyclical nature of Macbeth: we’re watching Lord and Lady Macbeth rise and fall, but it feels like this will be a continuous cancer that plagues the next king and queen, and the next, and the next. Whoever listens to the witches three will be the next target, and that this is the comeuppance of striving for royalty (as ego, greed, corruption, and sin will soon come after power). Coen is used to telling tales of misfits and outcasts with his typical output, and to see him apply the same kind of identity to Lord Macbeth is something quite astonishing: here’s an opportunist that did whatever it took to get ahead, and is now at the mercy of his own personal demons and ailing mind.

The Tragedy of Macbeth 2021 — Lord Macbeth is painted out to be an opportunist that falls at his own hand.

It may help to know the Macbeth play — or any pure iteration of it — before going into Coen’s latest feature, especially to feel the gravity of some of the hardest-hitting scenes; Coen allows Shakespeare’s words to do much of the heavy lifting, and he doesn’t dumb the film down by over-explaining what may be happening. This text is framed within some of the greatest cinematography of recent memory: Bruno Delbonnel has never been better. Each shot is either incredibly dark or blindingly bright, but you can guarantee yourself that you will see photographs of precise symmetry, extreme, angled close-ups (like The Passion of Joan of Arc), and the drowning out of finer details in some scenes (whilst other shots are as detailed as can be). This is pure art in cinematic form, and Macbeth’s personal battles have never looked more outstanding.

Within these images are two of the finest performers in American history. Denzel Washington continues to be an icon for the ages with a career-defining performance that really does rank up there with some of his best work. You can feel Lord Macbeth’s qualms with every shaky glance or crack in Washington’s voice. He strives for solidarity, but he ends up collapsing about with madness. Yet his arrogance bests him, and Washington captures this downfall of hubris as well. Then there’s Coen’s wife, Frances McDormand, coming off of her third Academy Award win. She plays the plotting Lady Macbeth, who tries to be a loyal wife to her Lord and help him with his rise in the ranks; her psychosis is arguably doubly worse and seeing McDormand lose her marbles like this is quite excruciating. If you’re expecting British or Scottish thespians to drive this film, think again; you may now view these performances as the definitive cinematic versions of Shakespeare’s legendary roles.

Of course, two performers don’t make for a perfect cast, but The Tragedy of Macbeth has this anyway. The mixture of British and American actors here doesn’t seem to distract one iota. Have Brendan Gleeson’s King Duncan amidst Corey Hawkins’ Macduff, and you still won’t bat an eye. Con is able to pull it off because everyone here is operating at their full capacity, and not a single second is wasted. Coen then finds the very rare dose of comedy within Macbeth to inject the briefest moments of relief in his quirky Coen-brothers kind of way; this includes the resolutions of visions that can be shrugged off as loony (but Coen is also not scared to present them as troubling as they are). You’re quite aware that this is a cinematic version of Macbeth through and through, but I genuinely felt like I was watching a stage version of this and feeling every breath of the performers, and feeling their sweat ricocheting off of the platform below them. Perhaps this is because the entire film was shot on a sound stage that we feel like we’re there with them. Maybe it’s because of the connection with us that Coen and company have established.

As visual as The Tragedy of Macbeth is, and as blessed as we are with the performances presented in front of us, the cherries on top are in the form of the sound design and the editing by Reginald Jaynes and Lucian Johnston. The sound of pummelling, haunting thuds, and thumps will send shivers down your spine, and you may feel as sick as the Macbeths themselves. To make you question yourself and what you are seeing, even more, the cuts are oftentimes quick and unforgiving, almost like you’re watching a trailer for a film instead of a film itself; don’t fear, as this feeling doesn’t continue for long, and you will feel yourself drift back into the film as if nothing had happened. This is a post-modernist kind of experience when watching the film as if we ourselves are going crazy alongside the cursed characters. This stranglehold that Coen has on his audience is impossible to ignore.

It’s about time we cut to brass tacks since the main reason why anyone should ever be adapting a work of Shakespeare is to put their own spin on it. Laurence Olivier adored the psychological downward spiral in Hamlet and shot the film as grimly as possible back then. Akira Kurosawa made King Lear a samurai epic of crimson bloodshed and pure devastation with Ran. Joel Coen has taken Macbeth and made a commentary on the drive for tyranny: a fearful conversation that we have all had far too many times these last ten years. This Lord Macbeth is nonplussed by the promises of fortune bestowed upon him by the three witches (played by Kathryn Hunter in an unforgettably unique triad of performances), and his Lady is swift in her actions to pave the way to the throne. Not once does the film feel hopeful or promising; even if you don’t know the play ahead of time, you just know that this won’t be a tale to cheer for.

The only solace here is the revenge that arises in the third act: when Lord Macbeth is at his most self-absorbed, and his Lady at her most brittle. Any sign of “winning” here is always at the expense of another, and I feel like Coen was able to extract this sadness from Shakespeare’s play better than any director before him. With this somber iconography flashing on the screen, and the heartbeats of the devil himself swirling around us, it’s impossible to feel comfortable during The Tragedy of Macbeth. Not even for one second. You know there is a death or a new plan being plotted at every turn. As stunning as the photography is, everything within it is disgusting. There may not be a film more relentless this year than The Tragedy of Macbeth, and you will feel as tormented as the characters on screen.

The film wraps up on an astonishing final image that I dare not spoil, but it is a last shot that may linger with me more than almost anything else in the entire picture. What does it mean? Does the cloak of death loom over all of us at all times? Even when the projector’s light turns off and we are presented with a dark theatre, is that as much of a death as the termination of our lives? Is this Coen’s version of his own prophecy of all of us? It’s as if the witches visited me and forbid me from leaving until they told me what they needed to say. It’s an abstract image, but its chaos is one that will be felt. That is The Tragedy of Macbeth: this indescribable calamity within all of us, but all we know is that the darkness is winning. This kind of damnation is inescapable. I’m not sure if Ethan is the lightness to Joel’s darkness, but all I can say is that the latter has wrapped up 2021 with this shattering take on trauma, death, and fate. It is undoubtedly one of the year’s finest cinematic experiences.

The Tragedy of Macbeth opens December 25th, 2021, to a limited theatrical release, and will be featured on Apple TV+ on January 14th, 2022.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.