‘Mac Beth’ @ Circle Theatre

Photos by Evan Michael Woods

—Jan Farrington

I need to level with you: There’s more than a bit of gore in the schoolgirl-driven version of Shakesspeare’s Macbeth having its regional premiere at Circle Theatre in Fort Worth.

But it’s rather glorious gore.

And while Shakespeare had to have many such dark deeds done offstage (there were censors in his time, too), I expect he would have gleefully approved this approach. In fact, just to show you how audiences have evolved, the two very senior ladies in front of me giggled as things went all Sam Peckinpah right in front of them.

Erica Schmidt’s 2019 Mac Beth, electrically staged and directed by Sasha Maya Ada and assisted by Libby Hawkins, features an exciting cast of seven (playing the schoolgirls and the characters of the play) and a wonderfully clean cut (paring down) of the script: clear, concise, and bursting with all the ear-catching lines you want to hear. As one of the smaller examples, I still jump when I hear “in one fell swoop”—a phrase we use today in describing sudden disaster—invented 400+ years ago by Will S., though few of us still know what “fell” means. (“Awful, dreadful,” basically.)

Leah Mazur’s unsettling set design for this after-school special is an urban concrete bunker of sorts, accessed by a ladder straight down from the streets. (We hear the honks of cars, and see the lightning of an approaching storm—sound from Claudia Jenkins Martinez, lighting by Roma Flowers.) Warped, broken bars lead into a nearly empty room with an overturned derelict sofa. Squared off oncrete spans form a cross and circle shape at center, purpose unknown at first. What will these young women, fierce and half-formed and open to experience, do with this space?

The tartan inner layer of a sleeping bag drapes over a pile of junk, old tires slant against walls—and iron bars or empty buckets are banged and drummed to punctuate the drama (props by Rowan Gilvie). Hope Cox’s costumes are, of necessity, uniform—dark plaid kilts, red ties, white shirts and a choice of sweaters and vests—but added to by sparkly crowns and handmade sashes (plus a plastic prop dagger and not-so-plastic swords; fight director is Circle AD Ashley H. White).

The action opens as always, with the three witch-like “weird sisters” chanting and incanting at the front of the stage: “When shall we three meet again?” Played by Liz Honigmann, Lauren Teders, and Janina Jaraczweski, their uncanny manner sets us on edge, and their sudden rush to tell the traveling Macbeth of his future (glory, acclaim, kingship) feels off, not celebratory. At the edges of the stage space, schoolgirls check texts and give a side-eye to the goings-on.

Macbeth (Samantha Yasmine Elayyach), an ambitious but jittery warrior, is heading toward home with his friend Banquo (Adia Best), another noble officer in King Duncan’s service. It takes just seconds for Macbeth to envision his triumphs: it’s crystal clear he’s been dreaming of this, though his calmer friend (Best keeps Banquo steady, smart, but warmly human) warns him to think carefully about the predictions, and his next moves.

But Macbeth is on fire to tell his wife (Zariyah Perry) the good news. If anything, Lady Macbeth is quicker to embrace the idea than he is. Let me, she says, “pour my spirit in your ear”—and let’s do it. Fate is leading King Duncan right to their door for a feast and an overnight stay. The universe is telling them to act.

Elayyach and Perry are quite the combo. She is the spark to his flint, the whip to his horse—and isn’t about to let him waste this opportunity. He is eager for power, but prone to regret and guilt. What price will his mind and soul pay for ruthlessness?

Allison Marshall plays fellow warrior (and rival?) Macduff, with keen eyes and a soldier’s upright, wary body language. And all the cast, with the exception of Ellayach as Macbeth, take on multiple smaller roles: King Duncan, Banquo’s son, et al. It’s a tribute to the actors and director that the quick changeovers go fairly seamlessly, without jolting us out of the story. What’s more, there’s a sly, slow-growing shift of tone in the collective acting—starting with fun and games, but slowly insinuating small notes of something coming, something serious: looks among a group of actors, or face-offs between a pair; sword-play with a hint of violence; and then a sudden and very real murder, softened by having the “body” slump down behind the overturned sofa.

What are we being prepared for? Macbeth, the Shakespeare classic, we know. But Mac Beth isn’t quite the same—and what are these frissons we feel despite the joke-y laughs, these elements onstage that don’t quite fit?

Schmidt’s riveting, exhilarating take on Shakespeare premiered in 2019, and (while they aren’t the heart of the drama) the play’s political undertones feel more overt today. This is a study of power and how it changes hands, of the need for nation-building when the nation seems in peril and asks for us to “take back” the country. Macbeth, especially as Elayyach plays him becoming more unhinged and unpredictable, is openly called a tyrant. A storm is approaching, from the flashes and sounds coming down the ladder—but this time, will it signify…something?

WHEN: October 9-November 1, 2025
WHERE: Circle Theatre, 230 West Fourth Street, Fort Worth
WEB: circletheatre.com