Original subtitles

(calm music)

(dramatic music)

(alarm beeping)

- Oh.

Phew.

(horn honking)

(gentle music)

(wind howling)

- [Sydney] Are you Adam?

- I am.

- Hi, Sydney.

Nice to meet. - You too.

You too, please, have a seat.

- Thank you.

- Thank you so much for meeting me.

- Oh, it's my pleasure.

I have heard great things about you.

- They are all lies.

- Well, I assumed.

- So did you get a chance to read the script?

- To read "Macbeth"?

- Yeah, but I was just joking.

- Oh, right.

- So I guess I'll tell you a little bit

about the concept for this production, which is hard to do

because I don't have a concept for this production.

It seems to me that when people direct Shakespeare,

they get so intimidated by the 400 years of history

and legend that they cling to an idea of what the play is

or what they could make it.

You know, my "Macbeth".

My "Macbeth" is about sexual frustration.

My "Macbeth" is about prohibition era Chicago

My "Macbeth" is about dancing monkeys.

You know, anything to avoid the paralyzing terror

of directing the actual play.

- So you're aiming for a more faithful production?

- No, not faithful, um.

I mean, yes, faithful, but not to the play's history,

not to the play's period,

to the play, you know, the play.

- Yeah, I think I get you.

- And I mean, look, I know that we all say this, right,

but it's about the text, that we're serving the text.

We all say that, but it's lip service.

99% of Shakespeare productions

are about the director's clever ideas.

But the thing is that no one gives a shit about your ideas.

Directing is not an intellectual pursuit.

It's a craft, you know,

get the play up on its feet, get it running.

Let it,

let it play.

Am I making any sense?

- Yes, you are.

- I'm sorry.

I, I just launched into this whole soliloquy, I guess,

what I'm trying to say. - Adam, do you mind

if I make this easy for you?

- No, I don't.

- I need to work.

I need a break from the city.

I don't want to do another stupid movie.

Massachusetts is lovely.

"Macbeth" is "Macbeth".

So I didn't come here to be convinced.

I came here to see if you were actively unbearable.

- And am I?

- Not so far.

- So you're saying?

- I'm saying yes.

- Like yes, yes?

- I don't know what that means, but yes.

- That's great.

That is extremely great.

I love your work, it'll be an honor to direct you.

- No, no, no, no, you cannot pull that.

- What?

- It's an honor to work with you.

You don't get to be starstruck.

You have to direct.

- Okay.

- [Sydney] Okay.

- I'm really glad that you're doing this.

- Yeah.

Yeah, me too.

(horn honking)

(gentle music)

- Breakfast is normally 7:30.

We can do later, but try and let us know the evening before.

- 7:30 is good.

- You stayed with us before, haven't you?

- [Sydney] A long time ago.

- Well.

Welcome back.

- Thanks.

- This work for you?

(Sydney sighs)

- It's perfect.

- Then I'll let you settle in.

You just shout if you need anything.

I don't hear too good these days, so shout loud.

- I can handle that. - Good girl.

- [Sydney] Oh.

- [Hugh] Sydney!

- Oh.

- Ah!

- Hi! - Oh.

- I heard you were coming, but I didn't believe it.

Sydney Levison in the flesh.

What brings you back to the provinces?

Did Hollywood chew you up and spit you out?

- Eh, more or less.

- Good, ah, no, no, no!

Good, so much the better for the theater.

Oh, let me have a look at you.

God, you look delicious.

- Oh!

- What's new, something's new.

New lover, new haircut, facelift?

- Nothing's new, Hugh.

- That I don't for a moment believe.

Oh listen, I was just about to go into town

because the bar here is hopelessly understocked,

is there anything you need?

- No, no, I'm fine.

- Well, I'll be back

and we are not on call until tomorrow morning.

So I expect to be drinking with you

until the wee hours, all right.

- Mm-hm, we'll see.

- Well, it's good enough.

Oh God, it's good to see you.

- It's great to see you too, Hugh.

- Oh, all right.

I'll be back. - Okay.

(Sydney chuckles)

Oh.

Well, you made yourself right at home.

- Sydney, you made it.

- No, no, no, no, don't get up.

You're too picturesque.

- Well, then sit down please.

- Thanks.

- Did you find the place okay?

- Yes.

Yes, I did.

- You must've stayed here before.

- Troilus and Cressida.

I was 23 and the place has changed not at all.

- It must be kind of comforting.

- Uh, yes and no.

It reminds me of how much I've changed.

- Like how?

- I was 23.

I was in love with theater, in love with life,

and I was also in love.

- And now?

- Oh, you're very good at that.

- [Adam] What?

- The innocuous question that leads to the revelation.

You might be a good director.

- Oh, thanks.

I'm trying to be.

- Is this your first time here?

- First time working.

Yeah, I used to come up here

and see things whenever I could.

It's kind of a trek from the city though.

- [Sydney] That's why I like it.

- Yeah, me too.

- Well, don't mind me.

I'm just going to sit here and read.

- "Agricultural Practice in Early New England".

Huh.

- Look, I don't judge your hobbies.

- You're right.

Sorry.

(Sydney clears throat)

You wanna go for a walk?

- I thought you'd never ask

- You think he ever dreamed that 400 years later

we'd still be hanging his name on banners?

- Probably not.

- You know, Emerson said that aliens, if there are aliens,

would probably call this planet Shakespeare.

- Emerson wrote about aliens?

- Apparently so, yeah.

Read about it on Wikipedia.

- If there are aliens,

they'd probably call this planet Wikipedia.

- That maybe true.

- Hey, you know what's cool?

- No, what's cool?

- Plymouth, Massachusetts.

It's the first English colony in the Northeast.

It's only like 20 miles away from here.

It was founded just a few years after Shakespeare died.

And Jamestown was established in 1607,

which is right about the same time "Macbeth" was written.

And his last play "The Tempest"

is all about discovering a new world.

And there's almost like,

in the great sweep of Western history,

this like passing on the baton from Shakespeare to America.

Like, all right, well, we'll take it from here.

- What are you some kind of optimist?

- In certain moods.

- Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.

- Thank God for that.

(gentle music)

- Welcome, everyone to the first day of rehearsal.

My name is Adam and I will be your least favorite person

for the next three weeks.

(group laughs)

Um, there's something I'd like to address

before we get started.

Let's just get it out of the way and move on, shall we.

The curse.

Now look, everyone is entitled to their own opinion

about whether or not magic exists,

but I am here to tell you this.

I have dug deep into the allegations

of a curse on the play "Macbeth".

I have done more research on the question

than anyone should ever dream of doing.

I have spoken to historians, scholars, experts on the occult

and I can say with great authority, there is no curse.

There is no history of troubled productions of this play.

Any more than any other play that's been performed

for 400 years, the witch's scene does not contain

the text of a real spell.

The play's not hexed by witches' some sort of revenge.

And we all know the rumors, we've heard the superstitions.

We can't even say the word "Macbeth".

We have to say The Scottish play, Mackers, et cetera.

And some of us have even experienced some creepy accidents

while working on this play.

But that is just a coincidence.

It is not the effect of black magic.

And the only thing that we really need to be afraid

of is putting on a mediocre show.

- Hear, hear!

- Thank you, Hugh.

All right.

Should we give this sucker a read?

- Quick question, Adam?

- Yes, Hugh?

- What's that?

(dramatic music)

- All right, whoever you are, it's not funny!

Please get out or I'll call security.

- [Man In Cape] Don't put on a mediocre show.

- We won't.

Okay, we won't, thank you.

(Lucas chuckles)

(group laughs)

- You heard the man.

Let's get started.

Act one, scene one.

Lauren, please.

- Okay, thunder and lightning enter three witches.

- Ladies and gentlemen to the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon.

- [All] Cheers!

- And now, I think we'd all like to hear a speech

from our fearless leader.

Adam, the floor is yours.

- Oh God, do I have to?

- You have to.

- Adam. - Come on, Adam.

- Let's go. - All right, all right.

I'm not much of a speech maker.

I'd rather let the Bard speak for me most of the time.

(light pop music)

I do want to say that I am very grateful to be here.

I'm very grateful for this place,

this play and this wonderful company.

How many goodly creatures are there here?

How beauteous mankind is,

a brave new world that has such people in it.

Cheers.

- [All] Cheers!

- Not bad.

Oh, fearless leader, not bad at all.

- [Adam] Thank you, Hugh.

- Don't mention it.

- So how are you liking the Hugh Painter experience?

- I'm surviving it.

- He didn't like that you passed his test.

- What the speech?

- He was trying to embarrass you.

- He succeeded.

- Yeah, but not in the way he wanted to.

You came off well.

Jess liked it.

- She's sweet.

- Uh, are these things working?

Did you just come out of a bad breakup?

Celibate, gay?

- I don't think so, why?

- Because Jess is sweet, but she's also freaking gorgeous.

- I didn't say she wasn't.

- Oh, are you married?

- I think that question is way beyond the boundaries.

- Are you married?

- No, I'm not married.

I'm not in a relationship.

I'm not gay.

And Jess is gorgeous, but I'm here to work.

And I think it's kind of sketchy

when directors hit on their actresses.

- But if she hit on you?

- You think she will?

- So you'd be open to it?

- I didn't say-- - But would you?

- You trying to set me up?

- Yeah, why not?

I had a legendary romance up here.

Why not you? - Why not you?

- Oh, no, no, I'm too old for showmance.

- [Adam] You are not too old.

- Yes, I'm very old.

- What are you, 35?

- Charmer.

- 29? - Idiot.

- A 112? - Jackass.

- You're just mad I guessed it right.

- Oh, you guys need drinks.

What are you having?

- A beer would be great.

- Beer and a shot, you got it.

Sydney?

- I'll take a scotch.

- Good for you.

- I'll have a scotch.

- Seems appropriate.

- I like the way you drink.

- Thank you, kindly.

- Hey, no private parties, you guys.

Scoot over.

What are we talking about?

- Oh, just gossip.

- Huh, no, that's boring.

Let's do a monologue off.

- Oof. - I'll do a monologue.

You do a monologue.

And Adam will declare the winner.

- What are the criteria?

- Just fucking winning.

- Oh, you're on.

- Oh freedom!

Sweet, sweet freedom!

- I feel bad leaving Jess in there.

She was only halfway through the Queen Mab speech.

- Oh no, she'll be fine, she's loving it.

He's still a big star to her.

- He's a big star to a lot of people.

- Yeah, I prefer the Brits.

- Any Brits in particular?

- Nope, just all of 'em.

Hey, hey, you shouldn't have made that speech

about the curse.

- Don't tell me you believe it.

- No, no, I don't, but now if anyone stubs their toe

or catches a cold, they'll blame you.

You tempted the God's, people don't like that.

- [Adam] I think I'll take my chances.

- I admire your foolish courage.

- [Adam] Thank you.

- No problem.

I'm gonna climb this tree now.

- You think that's wise?

- No, I don't think it is.

That's why I have to do it.

- Okay, just be careful, all right.

Your understudy's like 12.

- [Lucas] I'm doing great.

- You think there are any cops in this town?

- Doubt it.

- Any authority figures of any kind?

- I guess it's just me.

(gentle music)

(wind howling)

(branch cracks) - Jesus Christ.

- [Lucas] I'm okay.

I'm okay.

- Okay, you got to come down seriously.

It's not funny anymore.

- [Lucas] Okay, I'm coming down.

- He's climbing higher.

- Yeah, I think so.

- All right, we're going to bed.

Goodnight, have fun with your tree.

- [Lucas] Okay, goodnight, I love you guys.

- You think he's okay?

- Oh, he's fine.

He's not that drunk.

It's mostly just high spirits.

- So we're not bad people if we leave?

- Come on.

- Hey, you know what occurred to me?

- I don't.

- I didn't ask if you were married.

- Oh, I don't know if you should.

That might not be appropriate.

- I feel like you're not.

I feel like I would have heard about it.

- You read a lot of People Magazine?

- Well, yeah, in airports.

- I'm not married.

- Were you ever married?

- Never.

At this point, I assume I won't be.

- Why is that?

- Oh, it's a young person's game.

Most of my friends are already divorced.

- [Adam] I don't think that puts them ahead of you.

- [Sydney] It depends on how you look at it.

- [Adam] Well, how do you look at it?

- [Sydney] Depends on the day.

- How old are you anyway?

- Now, that would be telling.

- [Adam] Hey, I know this is none of my business, but--

- Oh, I love where this is going.

- [Adam] Are you happy?

- Uh.

I'm not unhappy.

- Yeah, but what are you looking for?

What do you want?

- If I knew that Adam,

if I knew that.

- I'm gonna go check on Lucas.

I feel bad.

- He's fine, Adam.

- I know, I'm just gonna check on him.

- All right.

Well, get some rest.

- You too.

It's a big day tomorrow.

- They're all big days.

- [Adam] Exactly.

(gentle music)

- Are you all right?

- I, I am well.

Yet stranger time than strange is this I see.

More curious lands and less familiar people than ever

I did think to look upon.

- You're not from around here then?

- In faith, I know not where I am.

Nor cannot tell being ignorant of that

how far, how close my birth land maybe found.

If I must judge the thing by raw appearance,

I am as distant from my home as fish from heaven,

soaring birds from the black belly of the sea.

And yet it is green here.

And the birds sing much the same.

And all the land unfolds in pleasant hills

much as in other times I've seen.

Methinks it's chiefly men that change

while nature, being no coy strumpet nor no flattering maid

keeps constant in her heart that rare devotion

that virtuous widows may aspire to show.

- What art though?

How come so hither, man?

- My words, you speak my words.

- I speak what words I'm given.

I am a player.

- And so was I.

When time was mine to spend.

I trod the boards of every princely stage

and many coarser ones in muddy towns.

Hey awry.

It was such a game to play

as might have tempted very gods to join in blessed times.

It is now long past, long gone.

My time is gone.

- You speak too sadly for a man so young.

- Is sadness the monopoly of years?

May only dotards know her sour sweet kiss.

But I am not, perhaps, as young

as you kind lady that you are would have me be.

What year is it?

- You mock me, sir.

- Why no such thing.

You do me wrong to say it.

Shall I mock the seat of such a regal beauty as yours is?

- And now you flatter.

- You mistake again.

Such words as would be flattery if untrue,

when true are only sense, I spoke my thought.

- You are the strangest creature that ever

I have chanced to look upon.

- I'll call that gracious,

for what's strange is bright.

It stands against the dullness

of the same like diamonds gleaming in a pig sty.

I'll be strange.

If strange, be pleasing to you,

let me be as plain, uncanny as a sow with wings

or as a fish that breaks the prison of the sea

and stepping onto land turns, bod,

or blacksmith or what trade you will.

- You are as strange to me as all of that.

And if you are what I have think you are,

you're even stranger, but it cannot be it.

- Yet say it, lady.

- I am loath to speak.

- Then I'll speak for you.

You have guessed my name, my nature

and the place from whence I come.

You call impossible the thing you see

and, therefore, doubt your eyes, your brain

and every organ that gives man his sense.

And yet is true.

I stand before you now.

If you interrogate your secrets so,

you'll see you credit me in spite of all.

What year is it?

- 2019.

- Oh!

2019!

Oh, brave humanity that leaps through centuries

with heedless bounds.

That I should live to see so late a day

and that the race of man should still abide.

Though time and all her ravages had set their teeth

into its tenuous walls, great is my heart with praise

for all mankind.

That all our flags and banners blend as one

and let us march on to posterity one arm linked in another,

praise to man.

- What's the last thing you remember?

- A dream, a merest dream.

I dreamed that down the centuries,

my plays had strutted forth to flaunt their gaudy trim

and pale scholars stooping over books

had argued this or that to preen their brains.

All this I saw, but saw without belief for I was dead

and thought the afterlife must be this mute parade

of living hopes, sweet delirium of a mortal thing.

- 'Tis true enough.

Your name is so revered

no other writer can come close to touching it.

- 'Tis wondrous strange.

'Tis well desired, but is ill-deserved.

What then of Marlowe or of Johnson too?

They were my betters.

Have they not their fame?

- Nothing like yours.

- It is a heathen world, a fallen place

where chance and sin weigh more than reason and devotion.

Yet I'll not be grave.

I am remembered.

I strove not in vain.

What play is it you play in here and now?

- I play Lady Macbeth.

- An excellent throne.

Yet a peculiar play.

What think you of this?

- It's a challenge, yes.

- A challenge, aye, that's admirably said.

The play will seek to strive with you

which one may be the better end

with weapons drawn yourself

and it shall fearsomely contend, yet shrink not lady.

If you win the day, the spoils are such glory

as the mind must reel to contemplate.

And who's your King?

- A knave, I fear.

- Yet that's all one.

A knave may speak as fairly as an honest man.

Let him not mumble, let his voice be keen,

his carriage noble

and I'll call the man the knave of all my heart.

When do you play?

- Two weeks from Friday.

- That's time enough.

I'll haunt this place (indistinct)

Who knows?

But I may find some little uses for myself in counseling

which way the play must bend to give its arrows

their most worthy flight.

For now, fair playeress, I take my leave.

This mist must claim me, for myself I mist,

no more corporeal than are men's dreams.

Goodnight, dear lady, when we meet again,

we'll talk more to the purpose.

Till that time, farewell.

(Sydney sighs)

- So this is all playable space.

- Yeah, all playable.

That step is high, though, so just keep that in mind.

- Okay, good.

It looks, it looks great.

I just wanted to make sure that I had it in my head.

- Yeah, no problem. - Thanks.

- Morning, Adam

- You look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

- I just had a run, I feel great.

- [Adam] Where do you get all of this energy from?

- Oh, I borrow it from my future elderly self.

- [Adam] She doesn't mind?

- Who cares?

- Am I late?

- You, sir, are early.

- Ah, shit.

- You missed my Mercutio.

- [Adam] You mean in 1978?

- Ah, that's funny.

No, you're very funny.

Isn't he very funny?

- Very.

- [Adam] Hey.

- [Sydney] Hey.

- [Adam] You all right?

You look a little done in.

- [Sydney] Yeah, I'm fine.

I just didn't sleep well.

- Funny dreams?

- [Sydney] You know, I don't think it was a dream,

but it was definitely funny.

- [Adam] You want to talk about it?

- Um, I met someone last night.

A man.

- That was fast.

- No, listen.

He was sitting on a bench

in the moonlight and he claimed to be,

no, he didn't actually claim to be anything,

but he seemed like, he acted like Shakespeare.

- So he was a lunatic?

- Maybe.

But nah, he didn't strike me as that.

He struck me as, not from here.

- A foreign lunatic?

- Well, you let me tell the story?

- I'm sorry.

- So he was sitting on that bench

in the back garden and he was playing some sort of flute.

We had this incredible conversation.

He said he would hang around

and help out with our production.

And then he kind of melted away into the darkness.

- You having any other symptoms?

- Okay, he didn't melt away.

He walked away, but there was a melting quality to it.

- Well, I would appreciate his help.

- You're doing fine.

- Well, I know, I know I'm doing fine.

I wouldn't mind doing better.

- If I see Shakespeare again,

I will invite him to rehearsal.

- [Adam] Thank you, just don't tell the company.

I think it might make 'em a little nervous.

- I can't imagine why.

- All right, let's get started everyone.

- All right, can we take it from lady M's entrance, please?

And Syd, could you find his eye line

just a little bit sooner

so we don't have that pause before how now?

- Got it. - Thank you.

All right, whenever you're ready.

- Lauren, can you give me the starter line please?

- I have no spirit. - Thank you, got it.

- I have no spirit to prick the sides of mine intent

but only vaulting ambition,

which all leaps itself and falls on the...

How now, what news?

- He has almost supped.

Why have you left the chamber?

- Hath he asked for me?

- No you not he has.

- We will proceed no further in this business.

He hath honored me of late,

and I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people,

which would (thudding)

Jesus Christ!

- Is everyone all right?

- I'm fine.

I'm fine, Jesus Christ.

- Sydney, you okay?

- Uh, yes, yes.

- Okay, well, that's not good.

I'll call maintenance.

- Good idea.

- It was a chunk of stone bigger than my head.

It was sizeable.

I could hear it whistle as it came down by my ear.

I could feel the wind on my face.

It almost gave me a shave, it was that close.

And when it hit the floor, there was this resounding thunk.

I could feel the whole stage vibrate like an earthquake.

I swear I could feel my teeth rattle.

It hit with that much force.

- You must have been scared witless?

- I don't mind telling you that I was.

My heart was in my mouth.

I stopped breathing.

I knew what it was that had missed me by a hair's breadth.

There was death.

- Well, I'm just glad nobody was hurt.

- So am I, so am I.

You know, in a way, I'm glad that it happened to me.

If it had happened to one of the younger cast members,

it might have scared them out of the business for life.

- I admire your courage, Hugh.

- It's not courage.

It's pure cussedness.

They're gonna have to carry me

out of that theater on a stretcher.

And even then I'll be reciting King Lear as I go out.

(group laughs)

- So what do you think, you think I was was wrong

to make light of the curse?

- Let the witches bring it on, my friend.

Let them bring it on.

(gentle Jazz music)

(quirky music)

- Mr. Shakespeare?

(Sydney clears throat)

Mr. Shakespeare?

Will?

- What silkened throated nymph calls to me now?

What voice too tender for this too harsh world?

It is the lady I beheld last night

whose image never since has quit mine eye,

but lingers there impervious today

in all the coarser sights the day thrusts on.

Why so pale, my lady?

Why so wild of eye?

Faith, anyone would think you'd seen a ghost.

- Something's happened.

- I can guess it well.

But what has chanced and why it frights you so,

I do confess beyond my skill to know.

- You weren't at the theater?

- I wonder as I told you here and yon

in insubstantial shadows till you call.

- A piece of ceiling fell onto the stage,

inches from Hugh, it almost killed him.

- Is Hugh a player?

- Yes, a very good one.

- Then it is not well, a play must well be played.

Is he sore wounded?

Does he speak or see?

- He's all right, but it was a close call.

- It is no matter then, what's well is well.

To escape the lion by a hair's breadth

is as good as never entering the den.

- Uh, I don't take it so lightly.

- So I see, but you are female

and of such stuff made that like the strings of lutes

when tensely strung, you vibrate at the touch.

- That's not the point.

And besides we don't think that way anymore.

- What way is that?

- That women are so delicate and sensitive.

It's not, well, it turns out not to be true.

- Faith, you amaze me.

- Yeah, well, sorry.

- I did think you had a sort of manliness

about you too, a vigor and a willfulness,

perhaps, not wholly female that became you.

Well, man's courage in a graceful female shape 'tis odd.

'Tis wondrous odd, provoking odd,

and I'll begrudge it not, it moves me quite.

- You knew women like this.

I know you did, I've read your plays.

- Nay, you speak true.

And if the world now stands as peopled with such creatures

as the sea is dense with teeming fish, I like it well.

All women queens and all queens worthy,

that is no mean world.

- Well, you know, we're working on it.

- But I digress as I am won't to do.

Methinks you had a purpose coming here

which I have less than answered.

Speak your mind.

- Is there a curse on Macbeth?

It's been a theater legend for centuries.

The play was cursed by witches.

I never believed it.

Is it true?

- There is something in it.

- Can you tell me why?

- I knew a witch

when I was very young.

She came to live in Stratford

and her house was very near my father's.

We became, I'll not say friends,

for time proved otherwise, but such acquaintances

as might find time to wander by the river side by side

and talk of slight and unremembered things.

One day, my father learned of this

and swore I should be banished from his house for life,

if I broke not my concourse with a witch.

This thing I did, for I was young, unripe,

and very fearful of my father's wrath.

Some 12 years later in a London street,

we chanced to meet again,

and being now some ways toward manhood,

I now saw the witch in such a different light

that we became, I'll not say lovers,

for it was not love,

but something that was more and less than friends.

From her, I drew the secrets of Macbeth,

the rites the witches do perform and speak.

And when at last the play became itself

and went before the public,

she was wrought into such fury at my impudence

that much I fear she did contrive a spell

to turn its fortunes into curdled fears

and all its glory to such sour laments

that after times would speak its name with scorn.

This came to pass.

And now my pretty play like some fair maiden

stunted in her youth is left to hobble after happiness

while other lesser but more blessed things

trip gaily to their joy.

'Tis hard.

'Tis hard.

- But the play's enormously popular.

What kind of curse is that?

'Tis infamy, not fame.

The players loved for bringing on disaster, not delight.

- I think you're wrong.

- Well, we'll not argue it.

What's done is done.

Or so the saying goes, what may be done, man wonders

and God knows.

- Is there a way to lift the curse?

I'd rather not get crushed by bricks,

if I can help it.

- I'll ponder it.

And now I'll say good night.

Playing truth may come to view with dawn's plain light.

(gentle music)

- Okay, everybody, if I could have your attention.

We have had the roof thoroughly checked out

and there is no sign of any structural problem

or any more loose masonry.

Obviously, safety is our first priority.

If you feel uncomfortable or unsafe at any point,

please come to me and we'll work it out.

Okay?

Okay, Adam, stage is yours.

- Thank you.

Why don't we pick up where we left off yesterday?

Can I get Hugh and Sydney up on the stage please?

- You all right?

- Yeah, yeah, just tired.

- Had trouble sleeping?

- A little.

- Oh, what you need is a good bedtime ritual.

It works wonders.

- Oh, do you have any suggestions?

- I have a few thoughts.

- Okay, can we go from the top of the soliloquy please?

- We'll talk later.

- Oh, I have no doubt.

- If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well

it were done quickly.

If the assassination could trammel up the consequence,

and catch (voice breaks)

with his surcease.

- You okay, Hugh?

- I'm fine, fine.

And catch with his surcease.

- [Adam] Can we get him some water?

- [Hugh] No, hot tea.

With honey.

And whiskey.

- Do we have whiskey?

- [Lauren] I'll make it happen.

- Thank you.

- Sorry, everyone.

Too late a night of it, I guess.

- That's all right, Hugh.

Come take a seat.

- Yeah.

Yeah, okay.

Sorry.

- Can we, do we have the porter?

- Tom's not called till afternoon.

- Well, Lucas, are you memorized for act four, scene three.

- I think so, mostly.

- [Adam] Sean?

- Born for it.

- Great, let's get 43 up on its feet.

And you can have book in hand

if it makes you more comfortable.

- No, I'll risk it.

- Good man.

Sorry, Syd.

- No, no, I'm just worried about Hugh.

- Oh, he's fine.

He's just partying a little too hard.

- You think that's it?

- Yeah, why?

- No reason.

Do your job.

- All right guys, whenever you're ready.

- If such a one be fit to govern, speak.

I am as I have spoken.

- Fit to govern, no, not to live.

Oh, nation miserable with an untitled tyrant,

bloody-sceptered, when will thou see

thy wholesome days again.

Since that the truest issue of thy throne

by his own interdiction stands accursed

and does blaspheme his breed?

Thy royal father was a most sainted king.

- This is not a good play.

(Syd scoffs)

No, I'm sorry, but it's not.

It's too unfocused.

And whose play is it anyway?

It's not Macbeth's.

I mean, he disappears for long stretches of it

and he hardly ever really drives the action.

It's not Lady Macbeth.

She goes to pieces a full act before the climax.

I guess it's Macduff's play, really.

Maybe Malcolm's?

But are they two distinct characters

or just virtuous blanks?

Sorry, it's a mess.

It's a mess with with some beautiful language, but still.

- You shouldn't say things like that.

- Why not, it's true.

- It doesn't matter.

You just shouldn't say it.

- Why?

- Because it's bad luck.

- Well.

(Hugh sighs)

(quirky music)

- [Man On TV] Listen, I said you could tag along

to research your book.

But you gotta follow my lead.

Let's keep it simple.

- [Man On TV] I hear you, Snowman.

(indistinct talking on TV)

- Will!

Will!

Will!

(dog barks)

(gentle music) (wind howling)

(Sydney gasps) Holy shit!

- Be calm, good lady.

Women are as men in this late time

as you know passing well.

Therefore, no matter if I do intrude,

we are two men in conference, nothing more.

- It's not your gender that worries me.

It's that you're in my goddamned room.

- 'Tis not damned that I can see.

I think it is as fine a room as might be wished and blessed

moreover by your body's grace

and all your sweet possessions.

Excellent room.

- Why are you here?

- A smallest reason.

I have pages here which will, when folded into my main text,

mend somewhat of the clumsiness that mars

the otherwise fine surface of the play.

I'll leave them here with you.

And when you think it meet deliver them unto your manager.

He'll see their worth at once, if he be wise.

If not come find me and I'll make him see.

- We're two weeks from performance.

- Aye, there's time.

A week's a year when stage work is in hand.

- Will, I don't think I can do this.

- Nay, you can.

It is well within your power and your rights.

- Why don't you take it to Adam yourself?

- You are my anchor in this tainted world.

The fates have willed it so.

I know not why.

- Why do you speak in verse?

- I beg your pardon.

What mean you by that?

- That, that is what I mean.

Iambic pentameter.

You talk like a character in one of your plays,

but that doesn't make any sense.

No one spoke that way in Elizabethan England.

It was a convention of the stage.

That's not how people talked.

(Will sighs)

- When you have had four centuries to muse,

to pine, to wallow in the sainted word,

you'll find the music of the speech

you dreamed contains a substance that it lacked in life.

I speak as I have always wished to speak

with bright precision and with chosen grace.

- So it's not because you're a genius.

It's because you're a ghost.

- Can not one man be both?

You are unkind.

- Will, listen to me.

- Upon my honor, where we not both men,

I might make free with certain choice remarks

regarding these your garments

and the shapes that they too thickly veil to briefly show.

- Don't be a pig.

- Admiration is nothing bestial.

Why, heaven herself doth grant man's poor eye

the wisdom to discern a fairer grace.

- Will!

- I cry your mercy, lady.

What's your will?

- I asked you if you could lift the curse.

- And I have thought upon it.

This poor sheath, imperfect as it is,

may make some change upon the workings of this damned play

that yields a better music to the ear

of that coarse witch whose anger hexed it so.

- That isn't what you said two minutes ago.

- And you must pardon me.

I clean forgot amid the rash excitement of my art

that all my skill this time has been to save you

and your fellows from this ancient blight.

- I don't believe you.

This is just that thing where playwrights

tinker with a piece that's done.

- I'll not deny that vice has been my own,

but if my name's as sacred as you claim

would not your manager and all your troop

show plain delight that I should tinker thus.

- They won't believe it.

I have not myself.

- You doubt me still.

Then I must furnish proof.

When last we met, I said my time was spent in dismal shadows

in mute veils of gray, but as your image flourishes in me

and blooms full colored in my secret,

so I find my world and my gray body too

grow clear and solid as the things of life.

Come touch me.

I am no pale shade, no trembling spirit,

but a sinewed man.

You have made me thus by calling me from sleep

with your bewitching presence

and your kind yet all too stubborn heart.

Now, touch my face and see what flesh

your grace has made of me.

(Sydney sighs)

- This proves the opposite of what you claim.

You can't be Shakespeare and be flesh and blood.

Will, Shakespeare died 400 years ago.

- Yet Shakespeare stands before you.

Call it strange, call it uncanny and impossible.

Yet 'tis the truth.

And in your truest heart, you know me to be truly what I am.

Will you these words deliver to your troop

that my unlucky play may have some hope

of overcoming its long years of shame?

- I will.

- For this, I humbly thank you.

Now, it is time for me to melt away in shadows dark.

If still you doubt that I am magic made

by magic summoned and made palpable,

observe this wall and how this human flesh,

which not long since you touched,

considers it as slighter thing as dreams

or wishes vain or men when they are dead or heart or life.

(mystical music)

- Oh!

(dramatic music)

- The sun is high and I am up.

Is coffee brewed for I do crave a cup.

- It sounds like you have your voice back.

- Oh, sound as a bell, sound as a bell.

All I really needed was a good night's rest.

So I guess you won't have to do "Macbeth" without Macbeth.

- [Adam] I had a backup plan.

- Oh really, what was it?

- Kenneth Branagh.

- Liar.

- Uh, Adam, can I talk to you for a second?

- Sure, of course.

- Actor secrets or Sydney secrets?

- Mind your business, Hugh.

- It's never worked for me.

- Okay, remember how I told you about meeting Shakespeare?

- You said you've met someone

who claimed to be. - Adam, it's him.

- I know it's crazy, but it's him, and he gave me something.

- What is this?

- It's a rewrite.

- A rewrite of what?

- "Macbeth".

- Okay, now you actually have me concerned.

- Okay, I'll tell you what, you read that

and then you come and tell me

this was not written by William Shakespeare.

- I don't have time to read that.

- Are you kidding me? - Okay, okay.

Okay, so I will read this.

- [Sydney] Yes.

- And then I will come find you.

- Yes. - Okay.

- Okay.

- Anything else?

- I'd kill for some breakfast.

- Well, you might have to the way

that Hugh was piling it on.

- Prithee, peace, I dare do all that may become a man

who dares do more is none.

- What beast was't, then,

that made you break this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it, then you were a man

and to be more than what you were,

you would be so much more the man.

Nor time nor place did then adhere,

and yet you would make both.

They have made themselves, and that their fitness now

does unmake you.

I have given suck, and know how tender

'tis to love the babe that milks me.

I would, when it was smiling in my face,

have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums

and dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you

have done to this.

- If we should fail?

- We fail?

But screw your courage to the sticking-place,

and we'll not fail.

When Duncan is asleep, whereto the rather shall

his day's hard journey soundly invite him,

his two chamberlains will I with wine

and while so convince that memory,

the warder of the brain,

shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason

a limbeck only, when in swinish sleep

their drenched natures lie as in a death.

What cannot you and I perform upon

the unguarded Duncan?

What not put upon his spongy officers,

who shall bear the guilt of our great quell?

- Bring forth men-children only,

for thy undaunted mettle should compose nothing but males.

Will it not be received,

when we have marked with blood those sleepy two

of his own chamber and used their very daggers,

That they have done 't?

- Who dares receive it other,

as we shall make our griefs and clamor roar upon his death?

- I am settled, and bend up each corporal agent

to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

- Yes, yes!

Now, that is some goddamned Shakespeare!

Beautiful, guys, it's just really beautiful.

How's it feel?

- Uh, it's getting there?

- Oh, well, I'm happy if you are.

- So happy, I'm so happy.

What is 'tis the clock?

- 10 of.

- Let's end the day on that note.

Great work, everybody.

Wow.

We're gonna plunge into act two tomorrow.

So look over your lines and get some rest.

Thank you so much.

- So much for your bad luck.

- Christ, don't say that

- Adam.

- Yeah?

You coming out?

A bunch of us are heading to Crown Headler.

- Oh, I, I can't.

I have some reading to do.

- How about after reading?

- We'll see.

- Yeah, we'll see means no.

- Means we'll see.

- You're impossible.

- Sorry.

- Don't be sorry.

It's your loss

(quirky music)

- Yet if I life and all its bright renown

be severed from the fabric of thy work,

it is a blessing in a curse's gown,

a gleaming diamond set in dimmest Merck

for poets live through poetry and, thus, by life,

by true life, is attained in us.

- It's wonderful.

It's wonderful, who wrote it?

- Sydney?

- Oh, I don't know, Tennyson?

- It was Hugh Painter.

- Seriously. - Oh yes.

- That's very good, Hugh.

- I thank thee lady for thy fair report.

Yet I'm aggrieved to find thee so surprised.

- Well, I had no idea you were a writer.

- I dabbled.

It's all hopelessly old-fashioned, of course.

And then again, all the best things are.

- If you will excuse me a moment.

I am going to go and check on Adam.

- Would you tell him to get in here and be sociable?

I mean that boy works too hard.

It's not good for the soul.

- I'll tell him.

- Thank you.

- Now, this is going to seem like a very ignorant question.

- Oh, my dear lady, there are no ignorant questions.

We all quest after knowledge in our own way.

- What do you think?

- It's interesting.

- Just wait.

- Okay.

- Uh, can I get you anything?

Tea, whiskey, tea with whiskey?

- No, I'm fine, thanks.

Sydney. - Yup, yeah, mm-hm.

(wind howling)

(knocking on door)

- Come in.

Did you read it?

- I did.

- And?

- Sydney, I can't use this.

It's a new play.

It's a different play.

It's brilliant.

And it's beautiful, but it's not "Macbeth".

- It's the heart of "Macbeth".

- I don't disagree.

I like letting him stew in his castle.

I like hearing about the alliance

between Macduff and Malcolm instead of seeing it.

I love watching Lady M unravel

instead of just hearing about it.

It's cleaner, it's tighter.

It's more psychologically intense, but it's not Shakespeare.

Shakespeare jumps around.

He shows us irrelevant things.

He wants the stage to be England and Scotland

and the castle and the tavern and Birnam Wood all at once.

That's how this play works.

It's a mess, but it's his mess.

This is something new.

- Maybe he's learned a thing or two in 400 years.

- You're still claiming that Shakespeare wrote this?

- Who else could?

- Well, you.

(Sydney scoffs)

(Sydney laughs)

- You think I wrote that?

- You gave it to me.

- So?

- So you tell me.

- Adam, I couldn't write that, not in four million years.

Could you? - No, no I couldn't.

But someone could.

Shakespeare wasn't a God.

We pretend that he was, but he wasn't.

He was just a guy, a very talented guy,

but there have always been people like that.

- Okay, so what's your theory?

That I have a very gifted playwright friend

and we got together and concocted this version

and I have waited until now to force it upon you?

- I don't know, Sydney, I don't know.

I was up half the night reading this and rereading it.

And it is great, it's completely great,

but it is not the play you signed up to do.

We can't put this up and call it "Macbeth".

We'd be laughed at, we'd look like idiots.

- Oh, well, there you go.

- There I go what?

- There you go, there's the real Adam.

You don't care about this play.

You just worry about what people will think.

- That is not fair.

- No, which part is unfair?

- I am doing my job here, Sydney.

- [Sydney] No, you're doing your career.

- I am directing Shakespeare.

- Sure, you are, of course you are.

And who gives a damn what Shakespeare thinks?

- Well, that's what it really comes down to, isn't it.

So let's talk about that for a second.

I don't believe for a second that you met Shakespeare

or that he gave you these pages, and why not?

Because I'm not insane, Sydney.

And I don't think you are either.

So what's going on?

- I told you.

- But you don't expect me to actually believe it.

Do you?

- No.

No, I guess not.

Thank you for reading it.

- I'm sorry.

- Don't be sorry, Adam.

Just get out.

(door slams)

Damn it.

(wind howling)

- The costumes we pulled from the shop

are downstairs getting ironed.

Set building is underway.

We'll try to keep the noise to a minimum.

- That is great.

And the stained glass come in?

- Just now, the museum wanted to remind us again

how precious and fragile and historic it is.

- Aren't they the ones who begged us to use it?

- No comment.

- You missed a pretty good time last night, Adam.

- I believe you.

- Well, we're going out again tonight,

if you're done with your reading.

- Yeah, I'll prob...

I'll be there.

- Seriously? - Seriously.

I'm allowed to have fun once in a while.

- Actually, in your contract, it says you're not.

- Well, screw the contract.

- I mean, okay, I warned you.

- Okay, that's five minutes, everybody.

Thank you.

- I need a smoke, do you want one?

- No, but I'll watch.

- Oh, can you grab that plywood and set up the prop table?

- Yup.

- Oh, and Jess is coming up in a second.

She wants you to see her costume.

- I've seen the photos.

- She wants you to see it on her.

- And I'm gonna need to see the plan for the stage again.

I'm worried about the down stage playing area.

Is the shop gonna hate me?

- They already hate you.

- I might as well get what I want.

- Hey Adam.

You don't like it.

- You've just got, you've got a little bit of um.

(wind howling)

(thudding) (men exclaim)

You're bleeding a lot. - Yeah, yeah.

Your nose is. (ladder crashes)

- Well, there goes that.

- [Man] Can I get a little help up here?

- Jesus!

- I mean whenever you--

- Fire! (alarm rings)

Fire, fire, everybody out!

- Shit, Adam, help me with this ladder!

- What is happening?

- [Lauren] Well, the good news is

the theater's still standing.

- Are we all fired?

- Not that I've heard.

I spoke to the costume people.

They're very sorry.

One of the interns left an iron

on some polyester pants.

- Why do we have polyester pants in "Macbeth"?

- They don't look polyester.

- They don't look like anything now.

- You should get some rest.

There's nothing more you can do today.

- There must be someone left I haven't apologized to.

- Me, maybe.

- I'm sorry. - For what?

- Whatever.

- Get some sleep.

Tomorrow's a new day.

- If it's anything like today, let's just skip it.

- I'll make a note.

- I know you're out here.

Will Shakespeare!

You come face me right now.

- I hath espy some subtle tinge of wrath

about the edges of thy beauty's glow.

- I am not in the mood for your shit right now.

- And yet I know not why, it is fine manure

in which good players flourish admirably.

- You lied to me.

- I never in my life.

- It's not the witch who cursed the play.

It's you.

- Why, with what power?

I am mortal made and no more potent

in such arts than you.

- Don't play the innocent.

You hate this play and we won't let you fix it.

So you throw a stupid tantrum hoping to scare us.

- You wrong me, lady.

- It's so obvious.

When I gave Adam your new pages, you were pacified

and we had a good day.

Then when Adam said he wouldn't use them,

that's when everything went cockeyed.

You're the curse.

- I have some magic, this I'll not deny.

To be a ghost has compensations

and I make with them what sport I may.

Your friend, Hugh Painter, you did call a knave.

And I, the thinking me of this,

did give him cause by dint of some light warning to repent.

- You almost killed him.

- Nay, my aim was good.

I meant to frighten him, and so I did.

- You set the place on fire!

- What could I do!

This dwarf, ungainly tragedy is a blot upon the canvas

of my life's proud work and men will still perform it.

Hearing enduring echos on the stages of the world

with such a grinding music that it keeps my soul from rest,

from peace, from God himself.

- You're such a moron, it's a classic play.

- 'Tis half of heaven, half of musty hell.

Some speeches, I confess, are definitely rot

and all the nobler for their brevity.

But other parts are clumsy, bald and schooled

as if some thick-thumbed child roughed them out

intending to return and make them shine,

but soon forgetting as all children will.

That child was I when queuing out this work

the time outpaced me and all, hopefully, I made

what best I could of it.

And now I reap the poison that my hands did so.

What agonies in that few souls can know.

- I'm sorry.

I can see that would be hard.

But your reaction isn't helping things.

We're not your enemy.

Call off the curse.

It's making a bad situation worse.

- I cannot do it.

- Oh, you can and you will.

- Nay, I will hold my ground for good or ill.

Nothing stand to lose by flouting you

but your good graces would you have withdrawn.

What then remains for you to threaten me with

but futile anger lacking weight or pith.

- [Sydney] You're such a jackass.

- That's as it may be.

Thou must decide how best to deal with me.

I am the wolf no longer held at bay.

I will be fed one way or the other way.

- All right, come on.

Adam. - Mm.

- [Sydney] Adam, wake up.

- Am I dreaming?

- You're not dreaming.

There's someone I want you to meet.

- Who the hell is this?

- A man you know too well and yet know not.

An all neglected and all worshiped man,

forgotten, famed, admired and cast off, a walking paradox.

Your servant, sir.

- Holy shit!

- Aye, there's another worthy riddle, friend.

Can dung be holy?

I am proof it can.

- It's you?

- It is.

- I'd know you anywhere.

- And yet you knew me not

when, through my friend, this worthy lady,

I made bold to give some certain hints how my unworthy play

might rise to better notice in your care.

- I'm sorry.

- It is no matter, sir.

You see me now and judge the weight of me.

Have I such substance has may tempt you

to accept my humble offering of words?

- I'm at your service.

- No, marry no such thing.

Let's rather say we both serve in our turn

that rough and tameless God that rules the stage

and makes our words as lightning steps,

as thunderclaps when we are brave enough to tread his boat.

- I'm at his service!

- Then it is done.

- Your work must finish what I've scarce begun.

A play's a slack, unblooded, arid thing

until the players make it breathe and sing.

I wrote the words.

Now, you must write the life that warms the watcher

like a winter's wife.

I leave this task in your most able hands and quit you now

for colder, darker lands.

And now, fair Sydney, know this well of me,

no mischief have I ever rot on thee.

(mystical music)

- That.

That, that.

- Yes.

Yes!

- I am sorry.

- I'm sorry too.

What do you think we should do?

I think we have to put it to a vote.

- This and what needful else

that calls upon us by the grace of grace,

we will perform in measure time and place.

So thanks to all at once and to each one whom we invite

to see us crowned at Scone.

- Exit all, followed by the ghost of Duncan,

ghost of Macbeth left alone onstage.

- And Duncan with them,

with as proud a grace as ever in his regal life he showed.

His issue triumphs and my barren seeds sticks in the ground

like rocks that clip the plow and comes to nothing.

I dearly hoped that death might be an ending

but I see such bitter reaches of eternity stretch

out before me that I have repent that murder

on which all my hopes were spent.

No more of this.

What's done is all behind.

I'll lay the yolk on my unquiet mind

and in this Earth, I'll cultivate the scene

of what undreamt of glories might have been.

If you would profit by my woeful tale,

think what a crime it is to strive and fail.

- Exit Macbeth, end of play.

- Who wrote this?

- Just some guy.

- It's very different.

- It is, yeah.

- It's got a lot more of me in it, which I like,

more of Sydney, which I like too.

- But what about narratively?

Does it work for you?

- Yeah, it works.

Yeah, it works.

It's a different story.

- Better story, worse story?

- Well, like I say, there's more of me.

- I mean, Hugh's addressing the elephant in the room.

My part is a lot smaller, so is Sean's.

It's hard for us to be objective.

I mean, we can try, but it's asking a lot.

- I know, and I don't like putting you in this position

but the truth,

the truth,

the truth is, um.

Sydney, you say it.

- It was given to us by the ghost of William Shakespeare.

- Well, that does change things.

(Lucas laughs)

- This is a prank, right?

This is like the guy with the hood and the spooky voice.

This is a joke.

- It's not a joke.

- You saw a ghost?

- Yeah.

- You both saw a ghost?

- We did.

- All right, screw it, I'm in.

- Hugh?

- I live in service to the theater.

- Yeah.

- I'm voting no

because it's a whole new script

and it's going to be a logistical nightmare

from every possible point of view.

Anyone else want to voice an opinion?

All right, let's break for lunch.

Back in two hours with a whole new play.

- Hey, Lauren!

I'm sorry.

- Are you kidding?

I live for shit shows like this.

(gentle music)

- You need something, Hugh?

- You do realize, of course,

that if all this goes pear-shaped, it'll be on you.

The brash, young director who spat on Shakespeare's grave.

- I kind of like that, actually.

- I do too.

Boy!

Take a deep breath, fearless leader,

the storm is about to begin.

(Adam chuckles)

(Adam sighs)

- It's a good house.

It's packed.

- Opening night, it should be.

- You okay?

- Ah yeah.

Go break a leg.

- You too.

- All right.

- Okay, house to black please.

Ready Q2, ready sound QA.

Both on my mark.

- [Woman] Standing by.

- Go. (rumbling)

And we're off.

- Great Glamis, worthy Cawdor!

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!

Thy letters have transported me

beyond this ignorant present,

and I feel now the future in the instant.

- My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.

- And when goes hence?

- Tomorrow, as he purposes.

- O, never shall sun that morrow see!

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men

may read strange matters to beguile the time,

look like the time.

Bear welcome in your eye,

your hand, your tongue,

look like the innocent flower,

but be the serpent under it.

He that's coming must be provided for

and you shall put this night's great business

into my dispatch which shall to all our nights and days

to come give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.

- We will speak further.

- Only look up clear.

To alter favor ever is to fear.

Leave all the rest to me.

(dramatic music)

- Ready, Q43.

Go.

- Thy dreams, my dearest, are much wondered at.

- Do servants gossip?

You amaze me, sir.

- Nay, I confess my own heart slips to doubt

when I do hear thy wanderings at night

and how thy speech does wonder with thy feet.

- My tongue and feet shall do as pleases them

and thou must keep a better watch on thine.

- I don't remember this part.

- Cannot we speak of what our hearts do know.

I know what ails you.

I felt it too.

Yet guilt is nothing, mark me well in that.

It is a demon sent to harry thee by gods

of envy coveting thy state.

It is a pale and vanishing conceit

built of a thousand nothings

and dispelled the minute it is boldly looked upon.

From thee I had this moral.

Now let me, that was my student.

- Don't touch with thy filth!

The bloody-dripping and blaspheming man.

Thy boots awash with ruby-seeming blood

make of my carpet a red patched rag.

Thy face is not the face I doted on,

but leaks mute rivers of accusing stain

and thou art not my husband, but a fiend fierce

and tormenting and claiming me for health.

- This madness is too near the truth of things

which men may guess.

Her dream disaster brings.

Yet such defiance in the teeth of fate

fills full my heart with love to match her hate.

(dramatic music)

- Plays.

Plays.

God save the mark, it plays.

- Sorry, who are you?

- One William Shakespeare.

- Oh, I love your work.

- I humbly thank you.

- Stay out of the way.

(dramatic music)

- [All] Hail, King of Scotland.

- We shall not spend a large expense of time

before we reckon with your several loves

and make us even with you.

What is more, we'll ferret out the cruel ministers

of this dead butcher and his fiend like queen.

This, and what needful else

that calls upon us by the grace of grace,

we will perform in measure time and place.

So thanks to all at once

and to each one whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone.

(dramatic music)

- And Duncan with them, with as proud a grace as ever

in his regal life he's shown.

His issue triumphs.

And my barren seed sticks in the ground like rocks

that clipped the plow and comes to nothing.

I dearly hoped that death might be an ending,

but I see such bitter reaches of eternity stretch out

before me that I hath repent that murder

on which all my hopes were spent.

No more of this.

What's done is all behind.

I'll lay the yolk on my unquiet mind.

And in this dirt, I'll cultivate the scene

of what undreamt of glories might've been.

If you would profit by my woeful tale,

think what a crime it is to strive and fail.

(dramatic music)

(audience applauding)

- That was not "Macbeth".

- I know.

Sorry.

- Don't be sorry.

I loved it.

(dramatic music)

- So what did you think?

Yeah, that was weird.

(audience applauding)

- To William Shakespeare.

- [All] To William Shakespeare.

- Where is the bastard anyway?

- No idea, I haven't seen him in over a week.

- Lauren said she saw him backstage

and he seemed very happy.

- Where is Lauren?

- She went to bed hours ago.

- Oh God, I hate responsible people.

- Yeah. - Mm-mm.

- Well, I'm tired of waiting for the dead white male.

If he shows up, tell him I'm grateful, et cetera.

- You're the soul of poetry, you.

- Oh, bite me.

(indistinct)

- I think I'm gonna head in too.

Muah.

Congratulations.

- [Adam] You too.

- You were wonderful tonight, Jess.

- Yeah, you too, Syd.

I'll see you in the morning.

- Goodnight. - Goodnight.

- You know you really missed the boat on that one.

- I actually think they're a much better couple.

- You may be right.

- I think we're gonna turn in too.

Goodnight, you crazy kids.

Don't stay up out late.

- Hey, Lucas.

- [Lucas] Yeah.

- Thank you, taking a chance on this.

I think your vote really made the difference.

- Huh.

- It's a crazy thing we did.

- Yeah, well, it's kinda why I liked it.

Hey, next time, though, I'm Macbeth.

- It's a promise.

- Good enough, goodnight.

- Good night, Lucas, goodnight, Sean.

- Goodnight, Sean. - Goodnight.

- Are they?

- Oh yeah.

- Wow, I,

I had no idea.

- Seriously?

- Am I an idiot?

- I guess you must be.

So you're heading out tomorrow?

- I have to, my agent set up 10,000 meetings

for me in the city.

- Well, I'm glad to know that our little sacrilege

hasn't killed you career.

- There's still time.

- We'll miss you up here.

- I'll be back in a week or two

to see how everything's going.

You guys don't need me, though.

It's your play now.

- It's Will's play.

- Yeah.

I should get some shut-eye, I guess.

- Yeah, yeah, yep, good idea.

- You'll walk me in?

- No, I think I'm gonna linger.

It's a nice night.

- Congratulations.

- You too, boss.

- Hmm.

(gentle music)

(leaves rustling)

- I thought you'd gone.

- So too did I.

And yet I linger, what makes thou of that?

Some weighty business binds me to this place,

but what its substance is, I cannot guess.

- Thou mockest me.

- I faith, I do, but with as kind a heart

as generous a tongue has ever youth

did mock his scented bride.

I know my business well and servest thou.

I speak of Adam and thou knowest why.

- He is too young.

- Why age must temper him

and thou his tutor gave what help thou canst.

- I am too old.

- In no particular.

Are thee young in mind and zest of spirit

and in grace of faith, thou has a raft of qualities

that many maids of 20 dearly crave.

Thy arguments, thus far, have gone for nought,

my reasons swiftly cancels them.

Look, try again.

- He leaves tomorrow.

- Then remains tonight.

And in that darkling and abandoned wild

with one half light and other men have wrought

much wilder things than this.

Seize the night.

The day will dawn too late and seizing that

will gain you only ashes.

Act and win.

- Thou art full of mischief.

- I am full of truth.

I'm too near death to waste my time or thine.

Already, I can hear it calling me,

that blank hereafter into which I gazed,

but many and many a time it was outside.

I'll see it now if there be ought to see.

If all is darkness, that's a kind of peace.

I am not weary, yet I feel my time

slip through the slender of the hourglass.

Grant me this boon before I go to rest.

And promise me to love that foolish man.

- I'll crave one moment of your time of that.

- Then speak with purpose.

I am half away.

- 'Tis poor to thank what cannot be repaid.

A rich gift handed down the centuries, reviving to the soul,

sweet on the tongue, 10,000 stages gracing with its grace.

Thy words, thy all beguiling words,

divine and human and immortal words,

what poet does not till the ground you sowed?

What player does not flourish in thy soil?

What person, lettered or unlettered,

can, with reason, claim he rests not in your shade?

This English, that my mind and heart revere,

this gnarled, beautiful and bastard tongue

flows through thee like a river through a sieve

emerging swift and grateful, cold and clean.

What thanks, why any thanks would pale.

Yet hear my gratitude, it sings in me.

- 'Tis well, 'tis welcome.

'Tis most ably said.

- I had a bit of help there from a knave.

- A knave may have his uses, mark ye that.

- I mark it well.

Thou art thyself a knave.

And thou has had thy uses.

Now, be gone.

This time is our time now, for good or ill.

And thou must haunt it only with thy plays.

- That suits me well.

And yet there's one thing more.

- What thing is that?

- Why this unworthy thing.

(gentle music)

Now come what may to thee in later times,

thou art the last to have a kiss from me.

Keep well this secret.

Clasp it to your heart.

Or boast about it (indistinct) in thee.

- You arrogant bastard.

- So I am.

But what man living has more cause than I?

Think kindly on me, Sydney.

I am dead and dead men have no life but in report.

- I'll think on thee as I may choose to think.

- I'll not begrudge it.

To be in my thoughts in anyways

is all the thanks I crave.

- Go to, go to, thou great unceasing mouth.

- I'll cease upon an instant like all men.

And when once gone, I'll not return again.

- I'll miss thee, Will.

- And I shall dream of you as all men ought to

and as many do.

One couplet more and then I'll say goodnight.

Make what frail joy thou canst in thy brief light.

- I will.

I will.

Farewell, my sweetest Will.

Thou has done mischief, but more good than ill.

(gentle music)

(Sydney laughs)

(door clicks open)

- You're the most predictable man I've ever met.

- I'll take any superlative.

- Good call.

What are you reading?

- Agricultural Practice in Early New England.

- How is it?

- It's better than you would expect.

Looks like we're the last ones up.

- Looks like it, yup.

- So?

- So.

I'm 44.

- I'm 32.

- You're young.

- You're gorgeous.

- Don't change the subject.

- I wasn't.

- You want a nightcap?

I got a decent bottle of scotch in my room.

- Don't you think it's sketchy

when directors hit on their actresses?

- I do.

But I'm not your director anymore.

- Oh.

- Plus I think you are amazing,

which kind of negates the sketchiness.

- That sounds like whiskey logic.

- I've had like

five.

- Oh.

I tell you what.

You're coming back up here, in what,

a week or two?

- Something like that.

- Buy me dinner?

- That sounds nice.

- Good night, Adam.

- Good night.

(train horn blaring)

(gentle music)

(wind howling)

(gentle music)

♪ Here I am now ♪

♪ It took some time to come around ♪

♪ Sometimes I think it took me down ♪

♪ Sometimes I think ♪

♪ In the catbird seat ♪

♪ The only trees were on my street ♪

♪ The only step was at my door ♪

♪ Into a city I stood for ♪

♪ Here I have been ♪

♪ This view with a room and a stupid grin ♪

♪ Not fit to choose which shoes to fit in ♪

♪ Not fit to choose ♪

♪ Here I have found ♪

♪ That you can sink on solid ground ♪

♪ And words like that don't make a sound ♪

♪ When something looks sturdy ♪

♪ In the catbird seat ♪

♪ The only shoes were on my feet ♪

♪ In them I walked Mass Avenue ♪

♪ Street-wise and see-through ♪

♪ By you I swore ♪

♪ By the light or the way you wore it ♪

♪ Now instead I swear I'm over it ♪

♪ In the catbird's seat ♪

♪ The only dreams were in my sleep ♪

♪ And all the things I ever owned ♪

♪ Were in boxes I borrowed ♪

(dramatic music)