A Royal Shakespeare Company presentation of a play in two acts by William Shakespeare. Directed by Rupert Goold.
Prospero … Patrick Stewart
Miranda … Mariah Gale
Ariel … Julian Bleach
Caliban … John Light
Antonio … Ken Bones
Alonso … Finbar Lynch
Ferdinand … Nick Court
Gonzalo … James Hayes
Trinculo … Craig Gazey
Stephano … Joseph Alessi
Adrian … Chris Jarman
Francisco … Edmund Kingsley
Boatswain … Paul Barnhill
Not for nothing does "The Tempest" start on board ship. Whether from magic to reality, from pain to forgiveness, or from darkness to light, the one certainty about Shakespeare's dreamlike, valedictory play is that it's a journey. The route in the new RSC production is, unexpectedly, from ice to fire. But then Rupert Goold's boldly intelligent interpretation reimagines almost every element of the play. Yet, although the result feels refreshingly new-minted, not all of Goold's fascinating ideas cohere.
The disparate design both underlines and slightly undermines the directorial vision. The island ruled by Prospero (Patrick Stewart) is arctic, with snow falling on a glacier against a wintry cyclorama. That is complemented by projections of snowstorms splashed against a curtain that looks seriously out of keeping with other more rough-hewn pieces of set.
Similarly, while most of the other actors are cocooned in layers of costumes and shiver with the cold, Prospero is given to wandering around with a bare chest. The lighting also plays with ingenious individual effects, like the rapid dappling of the Northern Lights, but lacks a satisfying overall tone.
Despite those inconsistencies, Goold's production has a rare vigor. His often radical rethink lifts a play that can easily languish as a beautiful poetic musing into something with the force of drama.
In no small measure, this is due to Patrick Stewart. He brings exacting clarity to the role of the dispossessed duke. He doesn't shrink from displaying Prospero as the tyrannical monarch of all he surveys, but he speaks with engaging patience from the word go. Even his dauntingly expositional opening speech -- "Tis time I should inform thee further" -- is quietly and carefully placed to maximum effect.
Stewart and the production have a vitality that makes his abandonment of magic feel like the true end of a life. That's partly due to the subtle degree of parental pride he exhibits. He is equally shored up by excitingly strong relationships with other principal characters on the island.
Julian Bleach is a spellbinding Ariel, mercifully unrecognizable from the traditional delicate sprite. Best known as the leery MC in "Shockheaded Peter," Bleach cuts another terrifyingly sinister figure. White-faced in floor length black with a doom-threatening growl that could curdle milk, he doesn't so much walk about as loom forth. His surprise entrances alone produce audible gasps of shock.
Bleach's singing voice ricochets between a freezing countertenor and a cavernous Eartha Kitt, and his cold rage against his enslavement to Prospero makes for a thrilling battle between equals.
There's a similar degree of complexity in Prospero's relationship with John Light's Caliban, bringing a light touch to the usual overplayed "monster." This is not simply a matter of the physical ease with which he capers about on all fours. Instead of standard-issue bellowing and growling, Light uses chilling Mongolian throat-singing and a rooted speaking voice to play the text, rather than generalized "creature acting" and ranting. He wins sympathy rather than begs for it.
While James Hayes brings tender eloquence to Gonzalo, not all his fellow courtiers match the concentrated relaxation with which he trusts the text to reveal character.
Several sequences give off a sense that actors and the director are trying too hard. Mariah Gale plays Miranda as genuinely young and frightened by "this brave new world that has such people in it" but there are times when her interpretation topples over into semi-autism.
The opening storm sequence encapsulates the production. Tuxedo-wearing courtiers and crew are, via a ship's porthole in the frontcloth, seen being hurled about below deck. Adam Cork's powerful sound score combines wind and rage to all but drown the company in every sense. But although most of the actors' lines are lost, it's a sacrifice worth making. The sheer vigour of Goold's adventurousness all but silences dissent.
Sets, Giles Cadle; costumes, Nicky Gillibrand; lighting, Paul Anderson; original music and sound, Adam Cork; video, Lorna Heavey; movement, Michael Ashcroft; production stage managers Mark Graham and Julian Cree. Opened, reviewed Feb 28, 2006. Running time: 2 HOURS, 40 MIN.
With: Ravi Aujla, Allyson Brown, Rob Carroll, Luke Neal, Golda Resheuvel, David Rubin, Emma Jay Thomas.
Contact David Benedict at
benedictdavid@mac.com
Date in print: Mon., Mar. 12, 2007