By William Shakespeare. Directed by Kevin Bennett. A Limbo Circus Theatre Company production. At Little Mountain Studios on Thursday, August 20. Continues until August 29

As it gets quieter and more inventive, this production of Macbeth also gets darker and creepier.

In the first half, it feels like most of the members of this young cast are showing us what they think bad people might act like—as opposed to accessing their own capacity for evil. The resulting performances tend to be loud and superficial.

These are student actors and recent grads, so these comments might seem harsh, but they are the preamble to praise. Rachel Aberle sneers and poses as Lady Macbeth. Pandora Morgan’s Banquo is twitchy and bobble-headed. Elizabeth Kirkland lends Duncan an intriguingly zealous quality, but it’s one-note, and she overacts mightily as the Porter. Strangely, Rhys Finnick’s Macbeth is so understated that he almost disappears.

Throughout, it’s interesting to watch Scott Button’s work as a lord named Ross. This Ross listens and reacts. Subtle and internal, Button’s portrait works.

Emerging director Kevin Bennett layers in surprising stylized moments. A feast in the first half features tightly choreographed mime, a bossa nova soundtrack, and the appearance of Banquo’s gory ghost. When Malcolm’s army approaches Macbeth’s castle disguised by branches from Birnam Wood, the unpredictable rhythm of the soldiers’ zombielike stomping and their creepy swaying are unnerving. And, in a clever touch, Bennett has Banquo’s ghost crown audience members as his royal heirs. There’s vision and a good deal of promise in all of this.

After intermission, the incidence of stylized elements increases, and the acting gets better—as well as quieter. Aberle is effectively self-contained in Lady M’s sleepwalking scene. Morgan is more compelling in the relatively minor role of the lady’s physician than she is as Banquo, mostly because she keeps herself still. Raes Calvert plays Macduff, who eventually slays Macbeth. Throughout the evening, you can see that this actor understands what he’s saying, even though he often says it with undifferentiated intensity. But when he meets the murderous king at the beginning of their final encounter, his delivery of “Turn, hellhound, turn” is exhausted, almost a whisper—and it feels exactly right.

When this production opens itself to discovery, when it sinks into its moments rather than pushing them, there’s a lot to like.