Opinion: How well does 'Macbeth', starring David Tennant and Cush Jumbo, work on screen?

With the cameras in control, the eyes are not permitted to roam freely in screenings of the Donmar Warehouse production of Macbeth, which is now released in cinemas around the UK. But are there other benefits to seeing this play on screen? asks our writer Holly O'Mahony.

Ever since 2009, when the National Theatre launched its pioneering NT Live scheme, cinema screenings of theatre shows have been a great democratiser of theatre, recording world-class productions and beaming them into picture houses across the UK and beyond.

The benefits are undeniable: for creatives, it ensures their work gets seen by far wider audiences; for punters, it’s a chance to catch cutting-edge productions that are otherwise sold out, too expensive, or too far away to see in person. With the cameras even closer to the action than the best seats in the stalls, these screenings can offer a better view of the action, too.

I’ve watched several theatre productions via cinema screenings over the years, including Kenneth Branagh’s 2015 take on A Winter’s Tale — the West End tickets for which were well outside of my budget at the time — and, more recently, Andrew Scott’s Present Laughter, which had sold out at the Old Vic long before I realised I wanted a ticket.

One thing I’d not previously done before, however, was see a show both live and at the cinema, to compare and contrast the experience. So I headed to my local Picturehouse, where Trafalgar Releasing was screening Max Webster’s production of Macbeth, which ran at the Donmar Warehouse in 2023 with David Tennant and Cush Jumbo playing the murderously ambitious couple.

This was not your typical theatre production in that it already meddled with the live experience, giving its audience a set of headphones to wear during the performance. Contrary to a jibe made in the play by Jatinder Singh Randhawa’s brilliantly funny Porter, who pokes fun at his audience for forking out money to essentially listen to a radio drama, the headphones were a hit, feeding us the dialogue while cancelling out any background noise and allowing for would-be inaudible private exchanges to be delivered in barely more than a whisper.

Naturalism is the norm in cinema, of course, and headphones aren’t needed (nor provided for the screening) to hear these quiet conversations between the scheming Macbeths. But the headphones served another purpose: they made Macbeth’s growing madness our own as the sinister prophecies of the Wayward Sisters and ominous flapping of birds’ wings ricocheted between our ears. While the sound did seem to bounce between both sides of the cinema, it was not as intense or internal an experience.

As for the cameras, there’s plenty they can see that the eyes miss while watching from a single seat. I got a heightened sense of the twitching paranoia possessing the Macbeths through extreme close-ups of Tennant and Jumbo’s fearful eyes, and felt more sure of their twisted commitment to obtain power at any cost. Tennant delivering his breathy monologues to the camera, accompanied by hot stares into the lens, held us complicit in his crimes, while a close up of his mouth for “Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow” made the speech all the more delicious.

The cameras honed in on embellishments in Rosanna Vize’s steely set too, offering thrilling montages of bloodied hands wringing themselves over a pool of water; the fretful faces of minor characters concealed behind a glass wall; and, for design fans, a chance to get a closer look at those sexy uniforms: tight grey tops, black kilts, and chelsea boots.

But with the cameras in control, the eyes are not permitted to roam the stage freely, clocking what a background actor is bringing to a particular moment, or checking out the on-stage band as they play Alasdair Macrae’s spirited, folky score, and this homogenises, or at least limits, our interpretation. Despite being much closer to each twist of the knife and drop of spilled blood, I also didn’t feel the tragedy resonated as deeply from behind the barrier of a screen.

Still, as Tennant rose from a pool of blood to take his bow, and Gareth Fry’s eerie soundscape gave way to the sound of audience applause, I was tempted to join in on clapping for this performance from the past – captured, memorialised, and resuscitated by the screen.

Read our review of Macbeth at the Donmar Warehouse on LondonTheatre.co.uk

Photo credit: David Tennant and Cush Jumbo in Macbeth. (Photo courtesy of production)