Banquo gets on his bike
First, a no-cash-for-comment bare-faced – but bearded – plug for Macbeth: affordable cultural enrichment wrapped in thrilling action and persuasive emotion at Darlinghurst Theatre ‘til this Sunday, May 9.
A tonsorial to-do, not unrelated to Chris Hurrell’s darkly modern vision of the Scottish play, had me pedal-pushing down Bourke Street to meet Semra, the hair stylist responsible for Banquo’s brunette bouffant.
My editor tells me enough’s been written about the horrific Separated Bi-Directional Cycleway being wrought on the bicycle boulevarde that formerly graced Surry Hills – so – readers, go see for yourselves. But take care. The current work makes it more hazardous than the over-engineered mishap that will remain until timely ripped out by responsible local government.
Suffice to say your columnist survived unscathed to arrive at In Style, Danks Street, where the population density is high and milling at ground level around about where Clover’s master-planners have determined the ‘unmentionable’ will transform to a shared pathway for cyclists and pedestrians – making the footpath more dangerous for everybody.
Scotland is certainly more dangerous for everybody after Nicholas Eadie’s Macbeth takes over. Shakespeare’s play is about the lust for power oblivious to responsibility: about thrusting self-interest before the nation’s good. Not only a medieval political problem.
It is also about clans and families and blood loyalties against wild raiders from across the seas; and civil war’s mercilessly uncivil mortal combats. A man loves a wayward woman too much to deny her wrong. But good men and women fight back against tyranny.
There may or may not be witches – the earth has bubbles as the water has / and these are of them – but there will be twitches and marching boys in mud and “Remember the Porter”….
I have no harsher critics than my mum – who liked it – and my nearly sweet sixteen daughter who said “yeah, good work, Dad” [highest praise indeed] – so – Recommended hot ticket for all sapient beings old enough to sit still!
by Peter Whitehead
