I was extremely lucky to see Macbeth with David Tennant (the Tenth and Fourteenth Doctors) and Cush Jumbo twice — once live at the Harold Pinter Theatre and once at the cinema, yet found the two very different experiences. But is one better than the other? Generally, I’m inclined to say that live theatre beats cinematic recordings: despite going to many National Theatre Live screenings of plays, and loving them, it’s hard to beat the immersion of a live performance unfolding in front of you. But…

Each version exacerbates certain sections, and one notable aspect of this Macbeth is the binaural sound — that is, sound as stereo using different sources, i.e. travelling from one ear to another and back again. In the West End, this was achieved through the audience members all wearing headphones. And while I appreciate the thought and effect, it also limited my enjoyment: I felt somewhat distanced from events, as if listening to an audio drama, with events playing out in front of me, but with a certain degree of detachment.

And that’s a huge shame because Macbeth is so involving. Like many of my generation, I studied this play, and it might’ve been chosen for the syllabus because it is so engaging. The number of soliloquies is a telling sign: this is Shakespeare making you effectively complicit, but also allowing you to witness and feel a great sense of horror at the anguish the leads have wrought. It’s also one of my favourite plays, partly because you’re so immersed in it all, but also because it’s so darn clever. I adore the way Shakespeare set up these prophecies about how long Macbeth would stay on the throne, prophecies that seem impossible and lend the titular character an entitled idea of his reign, but which do, of course, prove that pride comes before a fall, so they’re unravelled in the most genius of manners.

Yes, this is a tragedy, but it ends in an oddly optimistic way, given that, however horrifying Macbeth’s actions have been, he’s given enough humanity for you to feel some level of empathy. Then again, that’s how all the best villains are approached: here is an awful person who does truly harrowing things, but you’ll care about them nevertheless.

Admittedly, much of this empathy comes from the loss of Lady Macbeth, played magnificently by Cush Jumbo (The Good Wife). Her final scenes are beautifully played out. Her last little smile is unforgettable. Those scenes further highlight the superb use of light and dark in this production, as well as the simplicity and ingenuity of the stage, a stark white square with a glass partition at the back from which a Gods of Ragnarok-style crowd gathers to watch on, comment, and drum. This back section is used so brilliantly — there’s a small orchestra there, providing the haunting soundtrack (indeed, this is the first play I’ve ever seen that had its music available on vinyl at the venue), but the dead can also cast silent judgment of the living from there; the warring factions can mutter and plan; and the knocking can overwhelm the narrative.

That is one aspect slightly lost in the cinematic version: at a pertinent plot point, the cast leap forwards and bang on the glass, haunting Macbeth, a moment that made the auditorium similarly jump. In the cinema, that is dulled a little.

So too are the witches. Not entirely, however. They’re not really seen — their presence is shown largely through sound and the binaural effects. It’s surprisingly effective. When Macbeth returns to them to find out how long he’ll reign, they manifest essentially through possessions, so Tennant is in a maelstrom of writhing dark masses, reaching up and clawing at him. It’s terrifying and wonderful. Live, it’s one of the best sections of the play; in the cinema, it still is, but the sound is muddied so it’s not quite as crisp or cutting.

In contrast, I couldn’t connect with Macbeth’s famous “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” speech at the Harold Pinter — the direction means he’s separated from the stage, right towards the back, losing some of its power somehow; the intention is clear, his detachment from life echoing ours to his, but it left me slightly cold. That’s saying something, considering it’s one of my favourite soliloquies and one of the first I learned (thanks to the 1990s X-Men animation, in which Beast quotes it). Fortunately, this is corrected in the cinema screenings: it remains quiet and devastating, but the taut editing makes it more immediate and immersive. The editing, in general, is interesting, as is the direction, which really plays on the juxtaposing nature of the narrative; there are moments played to jar the audience, most notable being Macbeth seeing Banquo’s ghost. It feels chaotic yet works: it feels accurate to the anarchy of the stage during Shakespeare’s day, as if we really are flung back 400 years. Tennant is naturally great throughout, owning the stage against some tough competition. His deliveries can be gentle and considered one moment; the next, vibrant and piercing.

(There is another jarring section: the delaying tactic in which the Porter chats to the audience, designed to raise a laugh or two. It’s solely to give the cast time to change costumes, so perhaps can be forgiven, except it’s too grating to go from Macbeth and his wife wrestling with what they’ve done, to swearing jibes about ticket prices. His particularly good joke, in which he walks into a wall — “That’s the fourth wall I’ve broken this week” — was sadly cut for the cinema. Sorry, but I hated it.)

What remains cutting in both versions is the fate of Macduff’s family, and the character in question (Noof Ousellam) coming to terms with it. It’s hugely distressing and Macbeth is all the better of it. It’s enough to bring you to tears.

It makes the ending, staged absolutely beautifully, all the more revelatory and stunning.

So whether you saw it live or watch it in the cinema — or its inevitable DVD release — you’ll get a Macbeth that is genuinely fantastic, but also, of course, imperfect. If you could marry the two, perhaps you’d get close to the ideal Scottish play.

Check your local cinema to see when Macbeth is being played near you; for many in the UK, it’s being repeated tomorrow (Sunday 9th February 2025).