Coleridge is right about most things. The Tempest is described in his notes as a play that addresses itself to the imagination; its magic, he argued, is felt most keenly if it springs from within. Director Jamie Lloyd’s new production follows a similar premise, eschewing excessive spectacle and inviting audiences to solicit their imaginations, but in doing so, the play loses its wonders. Expect no sparks flying from an enchanted staff or secret magic books – in fact, don’t expect any props at all. This is The Tempest in an existential void, Beckettian bare and sans beauty. Shakespeare’s lush words are the only anchor in such stormy weather, yet these players struggle to convey its meaning.
Prospero, played by Sigourney Weaver in a gender reversal of the role, opens the show in the midst of a sea storm. She’s conjured it to bring her enemies to the magical island where she intends to mete out revenge for past wrongdoings. It’s warranted. Her perfidious brother Antonio (Tim Steed) usurped her noble title and left her to die with her young daughter, Miranda (Mara Huf). With fine work from light designer Jon Clark and sound designers Ben and Max Ringham, the opening shipwreck scene thrills. Billowing gauze sheets stream across the vast stage of Drury Lane resembling unruly ship masts, and thunderous clatters complement sudden shards of white light. The production favours such sleek and unfussy illusionism.
Soutra Gilmour’s set design is likewise abstract and distilled. Dark hills dominate a gloomy and smoke-shrouded stage, slithering in and out of view as they are alternately lit. The effect created is that of a sinister lunar desert, symbolising Prospero’s haunted psyche. It’s an interesting interpretation that works well with Shakespeare’s bewitching ambiguity about the isle’s appearance, which is ultimately a reflection of each perceiver’s mind. Is it a ‘bare island’ as Prospero says after drowning her books, or a ‘lush and lusty’ new world as it is to Gonzalo (a word-perfect Selina Cadell)?
Elsewhere, inattentiveness to the nuances of the text beleaguers an admirably experimental production. Weaver’s Prospero, for instance, is exclusively a maternal figure, sacrificing the character’s other many-coloured identities, which encompasses a magus, tyrant and coloniser. Her delivery lacks the requisite contrast and frequently feels detached. Powerful fury and magic can be found instead in Ariel, brought to startling life by Mason Alexander Park. Part fiery angel on a high wire, part mellifluous siren, Park plays a darker version of the sprite, achieving something not only rich and strange, but wholly original.
For the most part, Lloyd’s direction feels too hands-off. The cast has widely different performance styles, ranging from hilarious music hall clowns (Mathew Horne and Jason Barnett) to swooning high school sweethearts (Mara Huf and James Phoon). These performances were captivating, with Forbes Masson making a brilliantly lusty Caliban, crawling on all fours and breaking out into sexual thrusts, but Lloyd wasn’t able to weave them into a seamless narrative. It didn’t help the chemistry that the majority of lines were delivered to the audience rather than addressed to the other actors on stage.
The residue of magic that remains lies within Shakespeare’s language. But with clearer pronunciation needed, lines forgotten (on press night), and no external reference points in scenery or props, it made for hard understanding for those unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s play. Regardless, lines like Ariel’s ascendent ‘I flamed amazement’ proclaimed by Park with near-demonic panache, after fire is set to the King of Milan’s ship, glitter across a barren stage. Similarly, Gonzalo’s visionary musings on a new ‘Golden Age’ run as cool and refreshing as seawater. Otherwise, the production sails along like a little boat on an auspiciously placid ocean. It makes you wish to dream again.
The Tempest
Comedy
By William Shakespeare
Director: Jamie Lloyd
Cast includes: Sigourney Weaver; Jude Akuwudike; Jason Barnett; Selina Cadell; Mathew Horne; Mara Huf; Forbes Masson; Mason Alexander Park; James Phoon; Oliver Ryan; Tim Steed; Phillip Olagoke.
Until: Saturday 1st February 2025
Running Time: 2 hours and 10 minutes, including a 20-minute interval
Photo credits: Marc Brenner