Ralph Fiennes is the big name and the star of this hit English production of the Scottish play that has made the jump across the pond, but he’s not the engine that drives the action. This is clear almost from the outset: something in his posture, the way his shoulders sloop and arms dangle…why, the man’s a puppet! And who is holding the strings? You might be tempted to think it’s his missus, given the fire and steel in Indira Varma’s performance as Lady Macbeth. Once the bloody business of dispatching King Duncan and seizing the crown comes in sight, she is all certainty to his hesitation, all clarity to his confusion, all amoral purity of will to his muddy moral qualms. But the play — at least this production of it — has other ideas. The dress might be modern, but the forces at work remain mystical: the three weird sisters open the action (and predict the course of what’s to come) by noting that the charm’s wound up, ready to be cast — like a fishing line, or a marionette’s string. (A good puppetmaster mostly stays out of sight, after all.) The effect is slightly deflating; a proper tragedy is supposed to have a great man undone by his great flaw, but Fiennes comes across as a literal tool, albeit one with ambition for a battery. Still, his diminution in stature serves to highlight Varma’s increase, and she is worthy of the production’s attention. Talking of which: much effort has been made to obscure the fact that this is a filmed stage play, and on a pretty small stage, to boot. The camerawork is mostly impressive and only occasionally intrusive, and provides both an illusion of scale and a reality of up-close intimacy that the folks present in the audience might have reason to envy those of us in the theater. It especially helps to convey Fiennes’ humor of grunt and gesture throughout. And if memory serves, when it comes time for Macduff to cross swords with his charmed and bloody nemesis, the camera has the good sense to hold still and let the action play out. (2024) — Matthew Lickona