A cool mist fills Gottwald Playhouse at the beginning of "The Tragedy of Macbeth," Richmond Shakespeare's contribution to the Acts of Faith Festival. Slithering, whispering witches promise that Macbeth will be Thane of Cawdor and king of Scotland. But before long the lights turn red, passions ignite and violence blazes.
For this "Macbeth," visiting director Jan Powell conjures a world of breathtaking intensity. With a cast of just seven shape-shifting actors, she engages the audience in every moment of the play's two hours, grabbing us by the throat and exposing the seductive ugliness of naked ambition.
The cast possesses many gifts. Zoe V. Speas, as Lady Macbeth, has huge, dark, fathomless eyes to express her inky depths. Andrew Mitakides has an easy physicality that serves him as both the doomed King Duncan and the imposing, bare-chested Macduff. And Ryan Bechard, as Macbeth, has a rich voice with nearly hypnotic power.
LaSean Pierre Greene displays his own striking presence as Banquo, and David Janosik's seemingly effortless wit as the porter — down to his sharp ad-libs — contrast with his dignified Malcolm. Ingrid Alli and Brittany Diane Simmons fluidly cover a multitude of roles, aided by Virginia McConnell's cleverly versatile costumes.
Powell has configured the Gottwald for alley staging, with two audience sections facing each other across the playing area. Lighting and scenic designer BJ Wilkinson's platforms of various heights add interest as he shifts the illumination between chilly and fiery.
Sound is a major element here, with actress Simmons doubling as the designer of an eerie recorded soundscape. Powell has additional valuable collaborators: Molly Hood, master of verse, elicits thoughtful and expert line readings from the actors, and fight director Kevin Inouye provides fearsome and believable action throughout, especially in the crashing final battle between Macbeth and Macduff.
Above all, though, it's the archetypal power couple that makes this production so stunning. Speas is remarkably young and slight for the role, but her performance is that of a menacing tiger. There is no hesitation when she sees the way to power, and no brooking of weakness when Macbeth falters. And Bechard's Macbeth is never less than fascinating; his humanity is clear even when he's behaving monstrously. His "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow" soliloquy is electrifying. Macbeth and his lady — "This dead butcher and his fiend-like queen," as Malcolm calls them — are riveting; you can't bear to look away.





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