BWW Reviews: A Visually Rich, Complex TEMPEST At the Shakespeare Theatre

Audiences tend to rely on a kind of false logic when it comes to Shakespeare's Caribbean-flavored comedy The Tempest, to wit: 1) Prospero, the play's hero, is based on Shakespeare himself; 2) We love Shakespeare, and therefore 3) Prospero has to be loveable. That Prospero is in fact a complex anti-hero chock full of unpleasantness-beginning with his bigoted attitude towards Caliban-has been glossed over to the point where people flock to see the show as if it were a high-brow trip to Santaland.

The promotional posters you see flagging the neighborhood around the Sidney Harman Theatre feature Geraint Wyn Davies' grizzled face in a pose that at first look seems reminiscent of Father Christmas. Upon closer inspection, however, his expression is a serious one-not exactly uninviting, but not jocular either. His Prospero is, after all, bent on revenge; and although his treatment of his brother-usurper and other Italian courtiers might not merit attention from the International Criminal Court, based on the terrors of the spectacular storm and shipwreck that opens the show they certainly seem to cross some line or other.

Director Ethan McSweeny clearly knows his way around the play, and offers mature Washington audiences a visually rich, complex Tempest that has its share of magical moments, but which at its core is unvarnished by sentiment. In this world there are indeed beautiful noises-thanks to Jenny Giering's original compositions-and Christopher Akerlind has created a wondrous sense of desert-island paradise with his lighting design. But this stuff frames a Prospero who is more Hemingway than Santa; Davies performs this signature role as a temperamental, gravelly, flesh-and-blood nobleman prone to venting his frustrations at his 12-year exile from Milan and his Dukedom. He gets points for having been a good father to his daughter Miranda, but then again it's not as if he had any choice.

Other critics have clearly been charmed by this Tempest, seeing no harm in it whatsoever; but if you look closely there is room in Davies' performance to detect Prospero's dark side. His colonialist disdain for the island's native, Caliban, is not sugar-coated here, nor should it be. This production takes place in the midst of ongoing protests over the killings of Michael Brown and Eric Garner, and as a historian it's impossible for me to forget that this play literally set the stage for the Virginia colony's appallingly racist legislation against African slaves passed in 1619, just a few short years after the show's premiere. The Tempest, in other words, is The Merchant of Venice of our time; appallingly inappropriate in its attitudes, we are still striving for a way to stage it without inflaming further the passions that erupt daily around us.

As Caliban, Clifton Duncan gives us the drop-dead hilarious impersonation of a drunk, which the Bard calls for; but there is a quiet dignity in what he endures, and his antics cannot erase the ugliness of Prospero's verbal abuse. Costume designer Jennifer Moeller has given Duncan a more exotic, dappled complexion (based in part, I would imagine, on the fantastical accounts of Native Americans from Shakespeare's time), which gives us some distance from the character; but Duncan reminds us that Caliban is human, and feels the pain of his own usurpation just as keenly as Prospero. I leave it to you to decide whether the Milanese Duke's silent effort at reconciliation by the end of the play makes up for it.

Scenic Designer Lee Savage has created a multi-dimensional set, framing his sandy oasis with a decrepit, early-19th century proscenium whose cracks and crevices serve nicely for the cast to clamber over. True to this 19th-century spirit, the feats of flight performed by Ariel - the engaging Sofia Jean Gomez-are done with the rough hemp-ropes of that era, a reminder that stagecraft in the Classical Era was the province of actual sailors, who knew their way around the rigging. Puppeteer James Ortiz, meanwhile, has provided us a gorgeous spectacle with divinities that dance for Miranda's and Ferdinand's entertainment; Part Julie Taymor and part Bread and Puppet, they are manipulated gracefully by the cast's Spirits and literally grow before our eyes, while Nancy Anderson (as Voice) perches from the stage-façade and brilliantly serenades the young couple.

There are many charming performances here, beginning with Rachel Mewbron's Miranda; here we get to see a doll-clutching teen who has no idea how to move or act when the love of her life-the charming Avery Glymph-enters. Liam Craig and Dave Quay are a delight as Trinculo and Stephano, whose drunken capers about the island (with Caliban in tow) provide the comic mirror to Prospero's own struggles. And it is always a pleasure when Ted van Griethuysen graces us with his presence; his Gonzalo is a quiet, steady witness to the moral center of the play.

This Tempest is something of a cipher; if you go into the show assuming it is mostly harmless, then so it will be. But McSweeny's gift as a director is to leave room for those of us who see Shakespeare's world (like our own) as a great deal more complex. I urge you to go with eyes wide open, ready to take in the play in all its fullness and complexity; it's a rewarding experience, to be sure.

Production Photo: Geraint Wyn Davies as Prospero. Photo by Scott Suchman.

Running Time: 2 ½ hours, with one intermission.

Performances are December 2, 2014-January 11, 2015 at the Sidney Harman Theatre, 610 F Street NW, Washington, DC. For tickets call 202-547-1122, or visit: www.ShakespeareTheatre.org