Is this a ham I see before me?

Well, it's a bit off-topic but I suppose it fits into corporate ethics on the grounds of gouging bastard London theatres, and into art on the grounds of being a Shakespeare play. But generally I just need another opportunity to vent some spleen, whilst possibly getting a warning out there to anyone still planning to cough up serious cash for the West End production of Macbeth with Patrick Stewart.
Overgrown Antipodean (see http://theethicalwedding.blogspot.com for who this is) reckons that the reason this production had theatre critics creaming themselves en masse is that they're all middle aged men whose egos have been stroked by the idea that a bald 60-something can play a part better suited to a man in his 30s or 40s, with its implications of military and physical prowess. It's as good an explanation as any.
I was really excited about seeing this play. Macbeth has always been one of my favourites and I've never seen it done on stage. I have been known to 'fess up to a liking for Mr Stewart too, although I did go off him slightly after reading somewhere that he'd left his wide for a bit of stuff, which is just tediouslt stereotypical of aging actors whose careers are doing well, and really not in Jean-Luc's class. So prior to actually seeing it, this play had a lot going for it. And it's not often I shell out nearly £40 each for theatre tickets.
Oh dear. Was I ever wrong. I mean, it wasn't really, really diabolical or anything (well, one or two bits were). But it certainly wasn't up to the hype, and some bits were really quite ropey. Patrick Stewart was the hammiest thing alive. There's one scene in which he makes a ham sandwich and you just want to yell, Mary Whitehouse Experience style, 'that's you that is!' at him. What are directors for but to tell people they're hamming themselves into seriously unhalal territory and looking very, very silly in the process. OA nearly laughed a couple of times, and he is damn sure that if he had, plenty of the audience may well have succumbed too and then where would have Mr S been?
Next up is the big 3 witches 'double, double toil and trouble' speech. Now, this bit needs to be done well because the coherence of the plot of much of the rest of the play rests on understanding what they're saying. So doing it as some dodgy semi-rap with a lot of feedback hissing is really, really unhelpful. And when you do it in a style which is blatantly a rip-off of the 1990s video to Shakepeare's Sister's 'stay,' the one with Marcella Detroit and Siobhan Fahey fighting over some prine bloke in a hospital bed, then it just gets really daft. I mean, director blokey, did you think no-one would notice? Dear oh dear.
And then there's the generic authoritarianism motif which seems to be de rigeur for any play in London which is vaguely about power, kingship, corruption, authority etc etc etc. I'm sure once, about twenty years ago, this was a fresh and interesting take, but now it's just a bit sloppy and vaguely offensive to use shots from Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia in such an imprecise and slapdash way.
There were some good things. Banquo's ghost standing bloodied on the dining table; the slithery bloodspots projected on the background; Lady Macbeth looking very fine in a rather nice bias-cut evening frock. But, to be honest, I'd quite like my 40 quid back. And my main lesson from this? Well, never trust a critic, but that goes without staying. But for my Shakespeare, I'm definitely sticking to the regions and hoping for some more quality like the wonderful, brilliant production of the Tempest this summer at Manchester's Royal Exchange, with Pete Postlethwaite.