Abstract
As the show's programme pointed out, this was a production inspired by concerns for swift action to ameliorate the damage caused by the current climate emergency. To this end, the set comprised two storm-damaged wooden drawbridges, which offered some shelter from inclement weather and were fronted by a stage littered with the plastic detritus washed ashore from earlier tempests. There also appeared to be the remnants of a proscenium arch that sat at an angle framing the action, and offered an obviously theatrical environment in which Alex Kingston's powerful Prospero was clearly the stage manager. The environmental issues were constantly emphasised as the flotsam and jetsam littering the stage became props used to illustrate Prospero's opening narrative, drinking vessels for the drunken clowns, Stephano (Simon Startin) and Trinculo (Cath Whitefield), and abandoned pipes that were cobbled together to form a flute for Ariel (Heledd Gwyn). Even Ferdinand's (Joseph Payne) involved litter-picking rather than log-bearing. That the environmental damage was as a result of human behaviour was emphasised as the marriage masque ended and the damaged trees and shrubs that had acted as a backdrop were removed, revealing an upstage vision of a prelapsarian earthly paradise.
Alongside such a strong message of concern for our fragile world, this production was dominated by the cross-gendered casting of a female Prospero. As the tempest raged, and mariners and the royal party bickered as they were thrown off balance by the raging storm, Kingston's impressive exiled Duke controlled events, while consoling her distraught daughter, Miranda (Jessica Rhodes) that there was no harm done. This became a recurring theme of the production. Rather than an all-powerful magus bent on revenge, this was a primarily a maternal Prospero, concerned with ensuring a secure future for her child. Her mothering instinct was emphasised as she carefully folded laundry while expounding on the lengthy back-story that brought the pair to their current situation. Assuring Miranda that she had been no trouble during their perilous journey following their expulsion from Milan, she handed her a salvaged child's soft toy, and parent and child bonded once more over shared memories of Miranda's early childhood. The physical tenderness with which these two characters interacted throughout was at odds with Prospero's anachronistic concern with defending her daughter's maidenhood for the imagined predations of a Ferdinand (Joseph Payne) whose tender relationship with Miranda she had herself conjured up and nurtured.
This maternalism extended to Prospero's relationship with Ariel who appeared to be almost another child, whose urgency in wishing to be free presented at times like the reaction of a temperamental teenager to parental control, an impression heightened by an androgynous Ariel, whose hair and make-up hinted at a youthful hero-worship of David Bowie's alter-ego, Aladdin Sane. There was, however, always a shared love and respect throughout the production as Ariel continued to undertake the tasks allotted. She appeared as required in costumes seemingly cobbled together from the detritus littering the stage, and combined with other spirits inhabiting the island to present a huge winged black harpy that filled the width of the thrust stage and terrified the shipwrecked travellers. In a production that brought out unexpected moments of humour, Ariel reported back to Prospero on the effect of this disguise still removing the harpy's black plastic talons. There was a particularly touching moment of farewell as Ariel was finally granted her freedom, and she and Prospero struggled with the awareness of the finality of parting before Ariel was flown out, singing in what was clearly the original language of the island.
The relationship between Prospero and Caliban (Tommy Sim’aan) was more complex, with punishments inflicted seemingly at times more in sorrow than in anger. The exception was in Prospero's violent reaction to the memory of Caliban's attempted rape of Miranda and his boast that ‘I’d have peopled else / This isle with Calibans’ (1.2.409–10). Here, Prospero manipulated her staff to force Caliban to twist and turn in agony around the entrance to his meagre cell. A similar punished meted out to Ferdinand was, in contrast, was treated humorously by both Prospero and the audience. Caliban's powerful delivery of ‘the isle is full of noises’ highlighted the idea that the island had been a paradise prior to the arrival of the exiled Duke of Milan, and Prospero appeared to acknowledge her own role as usurper when forced regretfully to admit ‘this thing of darkness I / acknowledge mine (5.1.309–10). As Caliban too was ultimately released to reclaim his place on the island, he leapt athletically over his erstwhile cave and echoed Ariel's departure by singing in the same language.
The emphasis on the relationships between the island's inhabitants reduced the impact of the subplot concerning those on whom Prospero sought revenge. This group comprised a cross-gendered casting of both Gonzalo (Ishia Bennison) and Sebastian, the King's sister (Grace Cookey-Gam), along with Peter de Jersey as Alonso, Jamie Ballard as the usurping Antonio, and the two lords Adrian (David Lee-Jones) and Francisco (Jonny Khan). To see Stephano physically assault Trinculo did preclude the easy laughter the scene often generates and certainly produced guilt in Ariel as the instigator of the misunderstanding between the two servants. Antonio was keen to ensure that Sebastian join him in the act of usurpation, driving him on towards an act of murder, thwarted only by the magic of the island, while Alonso himself was overwrought by the supposed loss of his rightful heir, Ferdinand. The majority of the production's humour naturally centred on the drunken antics of Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban, whose foot-licking worship of Stephano caused both laughter and some revulsion in the audience.
At Prospero's command, Ariel brought all the characters together in order that her master could mete out her planned revenge on those who had so deeply wronged herself and her daughter. As the shipwrecked party slowly recovered their wits from the spells cast upon them, Prospero was clearly surprised by the compassion demonstrated by Ariel and was moved to forgive all but her brother, Antonio, whom she greeted only with a withering stare. The revelation of the young lovers, and the reunion of Alonso with his lost son, required textual changes due to the cross-gendered casting. As well as the shifting of pronouns and the loss of Shakespeare's puns on the words ‘farther’ and ‘father’, Ferdinand did not offer to introduce his ‘second father’. These were, however, minor concerns in a production dominated by the towering performance of Kingston as Prospero. Her final renunciation of her magical powers was less elegiac and more powerful as she sought approval from the audience before departing for Milan and an anticipated death.
Finally, the integrated BSL interpretation offered by Clare Edwards enhanced the production still further. She was fully incorporated within the action, reacting to other characters and adding a further sense of both wonder and, at times, humour to the proceedings. This, like Kingston's casting, was a further, and most welcome, step towards a truly inclusive theatrical experience.