(no subject)

Aannd here is Peter Calder's review of Michael Hurst's production of MacBeth, again in the New Zealand Herald. Not quite a rave review, but fairly close, and I (surprise!) am eaten up with desire to go see it.

We watch a man's descent into the moral abyss (his "O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife" is bone-chilling)...

Amid all this action, Hurst shows - as he did in his magnificent Hamlet - his unparalleled ability to speak the poetry. Words, snatches of phrase, sometimes whole passages, explode into life as if never heard before.