28 December 2024 I 19:30 I Theatre Royal Drury Lane, London
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
After a 67 year absence, Shakespeare's writing returns to Theatre Royal Drury Lane with Jamie Lloyd's epic reimagining of his final play The Tempest. Starring the legendary Sigourney Weaver under the director I admire the most, the premise drafted my dream production... which delivers on every level! Without creating too bold of a statement, this adaptation feels as if it has been made for me, a visionary take on Prospero's vengeance. Ravaged by critics, I believe The Tempest is one of Lloyd's finest works, understanding the minutiae of the colonised outsider and the otherworld.
When Prospero, the Duke of Milan is exiled, and her kingdom usurped by her brother, she is stranded upon a remote island with her daughter, once ruled by a witch named Sycorax. The island is inhabited by Sycorax's son Caliban and Ariel, a spiritual servant. One fateful evening, a storm entraps Prospero's oppressors upon the island, where magical forces come to play...
A few months prior, I had given Lloyd's Romeo & Juliet four stars, a profound adaptation yet holding an absent disconnect to the material. Whereas The Tempest understands exactly what it wants to be, with Soutra Gilmour's set design manifesting a sci-fi landscape, both unforgiving and texturally brutal. The space is flexible and alive upon one of London's largest stages, the expanse of Theatre Royal Drury Lane becoming a nightmarish island with no end.
Speaking on science-fiction, Hollywood legend Sigourney Weaver is right at home among this atmosphere. Her performance has recently come under scrutiny, however I witness a self-assured, assertive presence that majorly favours Lloyd's direction. She has imposing levels to her vocal texture, an exceptional fire as a matriarch of the stage. Perhaps her gender-swapped Prospero is gentler, yet the motherly tenderness in her diction compels me to empathise with her. Her 'dreams' monologue is one of my most captivating theatre moments of 2024!
Being so close to the stage, our intimate distance with Weaver acknowledges the subtle details. The ache behind the teared eyes where, in verse and in passive observations of scenes seated on a stool, she is consistently aware and embodying Prospero's melancholy. Indeed she stumbled a line towards the opening, but this is live theatre. I know I have done the same many a time, and she recovered it as a professional, which is the crucial factor.
Mason Alexander Park is enthralling through the role of Ariel, reminiscent of a siren. Their singing ability is hypnotising, gifting an entirely surreal dimension to the production. Often floating above the action, I cannot help but become engrossed in admiration. With compositions from Ben & Max Ringham and Michael Asante, dreamscapes holds a remarkable allure, to be transported to an echoey, hostile environment that bleeds into the auditorium.
Gilmour's additional costume design is ingenious, distinctly connecting Ariel and Caliban's dark magic through black corsetry. Ariel's appears ethereal, akin to a trapped bird longing for freedom. Forbes Masson's Caliban features similar aesthetics, though stripped back as a tortured slave. There is a sexual peculiarity to the design, in which the uncomfortability audiences are bound to feel solidifies his purpose, to represent a Westernised fear of the unknown and the foreign body.
The cast is on excellent form, where the energy is consistent and sustained. Matthew Horne and Jason Barnett (Trinculo & Stephano) deliver exceptional comic relief in a clownish manner. James Phoon and Mara Huf's (Ferdinand & Miranda) romantic progression is elegant and charming. Much of the dialogue is outwardly performed towards the audience, and it magnetically draws us in.
A last mention must be awarded to Jon Clark's lighting design. Perfection if I have ever seen it. The method in which stage images appear and disclose is impeccable. The landscape changes with every lighting state, unrecognisable dunes as the island morphs into shadow before your very eyes.
Jamie Lloyd's adaptation of The Tempest may not fulfil the critic's requirements, which does not speak for the immense enjoyment demonstrated from this evening's audience. From bountiful rounds of laughter to euphoric levels of applause, I strongly urge people to experience the show for themselves. Greeting viewers with a barrage of disembodied voices and whirling storms, to leaving the theatre following reconcilement, The Tempest holds a pleasing development. I'm left kicking up a storm that I can't see this production again!
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