If you are unaware that Shakespeare died on 23rd April 1616, that state of innocence will not last long. The Bard will be impossible to escape this year, like a virulent influenza. I propose to inoculate you with a small dose that may protect you against getting the willies.
My idea is that, after reading this post, you will be in a position to speak so authoritatively that any drinks party bore will swiftly change the conversation. So let’s get going and start at the beginning with luncheon. Near the Barbican there is a gastro-pub, The Jugged Hare. It specialises in game. The menu listed snipe, teal, widgeon, mallard, shoveller, diver duck and woodcock. I was impressed. It is the right way to approach Shakespeare. He wasn’t a vegetarian and a bird and some claret will put you in the right state of mind for a matinee at one of the Barbican cinemas.
Thus fortified we settled down to watch the 1979 Thames Television production of Macbeth, directed by Trevor Nunn. It had been on at The Other Place at Stratford and The Warehouse (now called The Donmar) in London before it was televised.
Sir Ian McKellen skipped down the aisle onto the stage and introduced the film. He plays MacBeth and Judi Dench is Lady M. (Appropriate that she should decades later play M.) He had us in the palm of his hand wearing a tie in the MacBeth tartan, trotting out stories about the production and Laurence Olivier. Lord Olivier is in no way connected to the production but it is compulsory in luvvie-land to give him a big hand.
Dame Judi has hardly changed. Sir Ian looks a bit older today. You will need facts to quell the drinks party bore. I have a fact. The production cost £200, even in those days a modest budget. Sir Ian said that the reason he and Banquo wear leather jackets slung over their shoulders is that they didn’t fit and Dame Judi’s headdress is a dishcloth.
Eventually we got to see the film, preceded by the Thames Television logo; an especially enjoyable bit of nostalgia. The disadvantage of lunching well is that, like Peter Rabbit, I was somnolent. I did wake up for the murder and discovery of same. There are cries for bells to be rung. The alarm system in the MacBeth’s castle in Inverness is convincingly loud and modern, making a sort of waa-waa noise.
The ushers evacuated the cinema as it was the Barbican’s fire alarm. It had been so enjoyable up to that point that we didn’t risk spoiling it by returning for the continuation.
The point is that hardly anyone has seen this film. It’s actually not a film. It is two video tapes. Any Shakespeare bore can be stymied if you mention this production. It is, I assure you, a winning hand in one-upmanship.
