Brave attempt by largely unknown director

Rating: 4/10 (14 February 2016)

Michael Fassbinder, Paddy Considine and David Thewlis are three of the world' best actors whether on stage, film or television, all of whom have well-deserved acclaimed credentials, so it is hard to imagine why Justin Kurzel's Scottish Play seems so dull and tired. Does the curse of the title apply only to performance on the actual boards of a stage, or does it apply to any performance? Because maybe that might explain why one of the bard's greatest tragedies comes across as flat and boring. Perhaps some forgetful novice mentioned the original title in passing, innocently dooming the entire production to best forgotten monotony. The only service that this version of Macbeth can do for the world is to, perhaps, introduce those who knew nothing of Shakespeare to his work, because, otherwise, it is simply a bad though brave attempt.
Fassbinder and Considine, in particular, seem to be in a constant state of near exhaustion, much as if they had come rushing in from their real jobs to give their best effort after a hard day's work somewhere else. The choice to have them constantly mumble their way through diction that is provenly brilliant lies with the director and that choice is a shame. Its effect robs the audience of the essential progression of Macbeth from once trusted ally to embittered and murderous traitor, not to mention the later necessity to appear completely possessed by his own megalomaniacal arrogance. In fact, Kurzel's effort seems to have fallen victim to the current popularity of zombies, so lifeless and empty as the main characters appear. Cotillard's portrayal is so unsympathetic that the horrible dark sadness of Lady Macbeth's complete mental decline comes across as merely a slight variation from an original selfish airheadedness. Here, again, the responsibility lies with the director to inspire and monitor the performance of his actors so that the audience becomes aware of the role and its place in the plot. Instead, the only sadness of Cotillard's performance lies in its lack of credibility. One could well imagine that her very first reading of every scene happened the night before the next day's filming.
The relief in the film's duration lies in the competent and robust performances of supporting cast members, such as Thewlis, David Heyman and Sean Harris, to mention just a few. By comparison, it is discomforting to witness the waste of the talent and skills of Michael Fassbinder (consider his performance as Bobby Sands) and of Paddy Considine (consider any other role he's ever played) by reducing their roles to those of passionless mumblers.
While it is obvious that actors reprising such roles as the main characters here are tasked with will by necessity work to avoid turning in a performance copied from a previous actor's work, Fassbender and Cotillard could have done themselves a service by paying a little more attention to both Polanski's and Orson Welles' versions of the same material. Then again, those versions are the work of directors whose prior careers show ample evidence of a brilliant originality that Justin Kurzel has yet to present.
I would suggest waiting for the DVD or other subsequent non-cinema version, to use as part of a Macbeth marathon. By itself, it's just a brave attempt.