To examine the latter, one must realize that when one is acting, one does not necessarily bring the aspects of the character into one’s life, as Plato feared. Perhaps, it is easiest to think of acting as an examination and presentation of the soul. When an actor takes on another character for a play, whether that character be good, bad or indifferent, the actor examines the aspects within his own soul which are similar to that character’s “soul” and then presents them to the audience for their inspection. Everyone has aspects of an inner Hamlet, an inner Rosalind, an inner Romeo, an inner Feste – just as well as we have our witches, ghosts and gravediggers. The actor realizes his own fallen humanity, and allows himself to honestly present the truth about humanity to others.

But, far from encouraging an actor to emulate, say, a villain or a witch, a true examination and portrayal, a true acting experience often warns the actor away from those dark regions of his soul, and propels him even more forcibly towards the light. As an example, after opening night for Salomé (Oscar Wilde’s amazing play about the beheading of St. John the Baptist), we held an open Q&A session. Many of the questions kept coming back to our play’s two biggest villains – Salomé and Herod – and the questions were along the same tenor: “How could you bear to take on such despicable characters night after night, rehearsal after rehearsal?” My actors surprised and gratified me with their eloquent answers. As my Herod summed up, by realizing he had the capacity within himself as a person to be Herod, he was able to pinpoint the very things that he would rectify in the future. After Salomé closed, my actor told me that he found himself slipping into “Herod moments” – moments when he would think Herod-like thoughts of possession and materialism, and his memory of acting in the play would immediately induce him to change his actions to those of generosity and spirituality.

In fact, I maintain that if the villains are not shown to be villains, if the veil of half-hearted or “relative badness” is not stripped away to show the raw, disgusting inner workings of evil, then the play itself becomes deceptive. If, as I lectured all too frequently to my ever-patient and wonderful cast for Salomé, the audience leaves admiring our villains, then we will have failed as Christian artists. The Medieval poets and playwrights did not shy away from portraying evil as it truly is – and neither did Shakespeare.

Macbeth, along with Hamlet, cannot be truly understood outside of the Christian sphere. The premise of both is the question of free will and concupiscence. Macbeth, a Scottish lord recently well-acquitted on the battlefield, meets three witches while en route to his own castle. The witches intimate to Macbeth that he might be the next king of Scotland – an intimation that Lady Macbeth, his wife, takes as canon law. Through Lady Macbeth’s nagging and ridicule, and Macbeth’s own weak will and ambition, the two plot to fulfill the witches’ prophecy by murdering Duncan, the legitimate king. But death begets death, and soon the Macbeths are embroiled in a series of murders in an effort to wash the blood from their hands. And when at last Macbeth goes to meet his own death, he sums up the actions which have brought him to this wretched state thus: “It is a story, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

The witches in Macbeth play a serpentine role, as in the Garden of Eden, telling Macbeth to take and eat of the fruit of the tree – but Macbeth, like Eve, is the one who must reach up to the tree to pluck the fruit, the serpent merely tempts. Or like Christ’s temptation in the wilderness, Macbeth is seduced by the witches with dreams of glory and power; unlike Christ, Macbeth does not rebuke the witches but heeds them.

From a dramatic standpoint, then, it seems clear that the witches must be portrayed in league with the very devil. They must repulse the audience, ergo the actors who are cast as the witches must delve within themselves and present the very worst of our fallen nature, present living creatures dwelling in an earthly hell. If presented correctly, the audience will practically leap out of their seats to prevent Macbeth from heeding them. If presented correctly, the audience will avoid such temptations in their own lives for fear of following in Macbeth’s tragic wake. As Shakespeare sums up, “All our yesterdays have lighted fools the ways to dusty death; out, out brief candle!”

My best wishes to all who delve into the wonderfully rich world of Shakespeare. And my fondest regard for all brave enough to examine their own souls to light others, not to dusty death, but to everlasting life.

The End

(c) 2002
By Emily C. A. Snyder
All Rights Reserved
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