There's more sand on stage at York Theatre Royal than in B&Q. Director-designer Damian Cruden has elected to play the Scottish tragedy ankle-deep in black grit, which glistens attractively and offers no end of metaphorical sifting opportunities. Even so, it's hard to banish associations of Macbeth-on-the-beach. The characters are armed with Samurai swords, though they might be better equipped with buckets and spades. When Duncan says, "This castle hath a pleasant seat," you wonder if he intends to pull up a deckchair.
Ironically for a play that makes much of the imagery of borrowed robes, Cruden borrows a fair few of Yukio Ninagawa's. The colour-coordinated kimonos, esoteric percussion and even the sand are all Ninagawa trademarks. But whereas the Japanesedirector persuades you that Shakespeare wrote the play to illustrate the Samurai honour system, Cruden appears to be trying on concepts for size.
It has its moments - the supernatural sequences are thrillingly done, and there is an outstanding opening tableau in which a ravaged trio of zombie-puppet witches are disinterred. But elsewhere there's a sense that the frozen restraint of the stage pictures hinders the dramatic pulse of the action. Terence Maynard's Macbeth initially seems impassive for a warrior; and Barbara Marten's Lady Macbeth has a huge task rousing him to harm a fly, particularly given that he's dressed like a monk.
Yet these prove to be slow-burn interpretations that develop into performances of quiet authority and power. Marten provides a chilling portrait of self-destructive introspection, while Maynard gazes abstractedly at the sand as if trying to fathom a universe in every grain.
Despite the stateliness of the action, a well-trimmed text brings everything in at under two hours. A laudably ambitious production, but as the hero himself says, if it were done, 'twere well it were done quickly.
· Until 19 March Box office: 01904 623568.
