Erica Schmidt’s "Mac Beth" Is Wonderfully Terrifying For All The Right Reasons.

Once inside Hunter College’s Frederick Loewe Theatre, it’s hard to miss the Feb. 20 crowd of about 30 lining the wall and filling the cushioned seats of the theatre’s packed hallway. A red-ribboned shrine of playbills glistens as conversations, and the melodic tones of string instruments merge. The unmistakable lilt of a young girl’s voice soars high above the noise as she questions her mother about the sounds she’s hearing.

The crowd soon ushers itself into the dimly lit theater, inside, a grass­covered set greets viewers. On stage, sits a small lake, an overturned couch, a single black tire, and an old bathtub. The room fills quickly. Cellphones are silenced as old chairs creak, murmurs cease, and about 60 pairs of eyes turn eagerly toward the scene.

The sound of modern music fills the air as a young woman in clothing reminiscent of a private school uniform takes the stage, tapping away at her pink and black encased cell phone as she hums to herself. A diverse chorus of similarly dressed girls soon joins her. As they proceed to dance in the rain, mix “potions” together, speak passionately in Shakespearean English, and whip their gray, red-plaid lined capes about, the chill of the afternoon suddenly feels appropriate.

This is none other than Erica Schmidt’s “Mac Beth.” With a seven week-long run that ended Feb. 22, 2020, the premise expertly explored themes of obsession, social media culture, race, and more through the eyes of teen girls, all while staying true to the source material, thus proving itself to have been an incredibly terrifying but equally satisfying ride.