ON A Saturday afternoon in February, a month before "Macbeth" was to open at the National Theatre in London, its artistic director, Rufus Norris, rehearsed alone with Rory Kinnear. Dressed in jeans and trainers, Mr Kinnear heaved a battlement across the studio. On Mr Norris's cue, he became the thane, hand clutched to his pate in anguish, eyes aglow.
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