MACBETH (solo) – Review
Paul Goodwin’s MACBETH (solo) distils Shakespeare’s darkest tragedy into an hour of taut, unrelenting theatre. Stripped of ensemble and spectacle, this one-man performance presents the rise and ruin of Macbeth as a stark analysis on ambition, power, and madness.
At its core, this is a story of political ambition released from morality. Shakespeare’s play, drawn from Holinshed’s Chronicles of Scottish History, resonated in his own day with the paranoia and violence surrounding the Gunpowder Plot. Goodwin’s production carries that same historical weight while finding a modern urgency. We may not live in Macbeth’s 11th-century Scotland, but the dangers of unchecked aspiration and the corrosive strain of mistrust are still all too recognisable. Even without knowing every detail of the original piece, we can see a man collapsing under the weight of his own narcissism.
Goodwin, both editor and performer, moves lucidly between characters, yet the focus never strays from Macbeth himself. The absence of Lady Macbeth and other key players paradoxically heightens the tragedy. Every voice we hear and every figure who “appears” is refracted through Macbeth’s mind. His world shrinks until no one else matters. By embodying others only fleetingly, Goodwin makes their existence feel spectral, almost hallucinatory, intensifying the sense that we are trapped inside a single unravelling consciousness.
The staging reinforces this exposure: a black box theatre, dimly lit by candlelight, with only a small, bleak bed. Rather than diminish the story, this starkness strips it to the essentials. Devoid of grandeur, the world is filtered entirely through Macbeth’s distorted perspective. Dmitriy Saratsky’s soundscape deepens the unease, echoing Macbeth’s disintegration with surges of noise and sudden silences. A chilling wail reverberates through the room, making the audience shift uneasily in their seats.
What emerges is a performance that feels both historical and immediate. In one man’s body and voice, Shakespeare’s text comes alive, offering a crash course in the playwright’s insights into supremacy, paranoia, and the fragility of the human mind. Goodwin brings Macbeth into conversation once more, reminding us of the universal truths of desire and its inevitable toll.
MACBETH (solo) is not comfortable theatre. It is complex, dark, and unhinged – but that very discomfort is its achievement, proving why this tragedy continues to haunt audiences across the centuries
Jemima Mallock is an Editorial Intern at Aspects of History.
