Theatre play review
'The Tempest' at Theatre Royal Drury Lane
On Saturday (11th Jan 2025), I saw a Shakespeare play, 'The Tempest', at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane (1,2) with some friends. The story follows the former Duke of Milan, Prospero and his path to revenge. Prospero's brother, Antonio, betrayed him to steal his Duke position. But Prospero, with the help of the courtier, escaped to an island with his daughter Miranda and a book of magic. The island is inhabited by spirits and only one human, Caliban, who Prospero enslaves. Prospero also holds Ariel, a spirit he saved from a tree, under his power by promising freedom in exchange for favours. The play starts when Prospero and his now 15-year-old daughter watch as a ship, with Antonio and the King aboard, is wrecked ashore on this island. Ensues several plots of coup attempts and a love story between Miranda and the King's son until Prospero's opportunity for revenge becomes a choice for forgiveness and good virtue (3).
Highlights
All the lights go off, and the room becomes pitch black (except for a few phones glaring as they were swiftly turned off). Immediately, the darkness swallows you, and as the stage is revealed, you are immersed in the world of a lost island and a powerful storm. The stage has polished grey stony hills, and the floor space in between is sandy, grey and dusted with dark black soil and stones. Soon after, a drape of three sewn-together airy fabrics dances to the wind and floats past the stage, turning the storm into a being of its own.
The lighting was cleverly chosen to illuminate Prospero in white and blue tones while Ariel sprung from above in a warm orange glow. Each actor was lit in such a way as to create a unique visual piece each time, with symmetry and focus. One incredible scene saw a liquid fabric floating delicately across the horizon. Our eyes are caught by Ariel wearing a similar fabric over its body, walking past the magical waves. Meanwhile, the dim light and dark areas contrast the two complementary orange and blue colours gleaming around the characters. And the singing of Ariel among all of this was enough to transport you into another world.
The actor playing Ferdinand, the King's son, was impeccable in his interpretation of this young character who is at first lost and then falls in love with Miranda. Furthermore, Caliban's rendition was so disinhibited: the movements were dramatic and fully embodied, creating a monstrous caricature of what once was a former free man. When Caliban is joined on stage by Stephano the butler and Trinculo the fool (both survivors of the shipwreck), it is a fantastic back-and-forth playful dialogue. The three of them had an astonishing chemistry that fascinated and grounded you in the present moment. The actors gave their all to the characters. They did not fear being judged for acting ridiculous or ugly and thus helped the characters come alive as grotesque drunkards. Brilliant!
The costumes were strange and a creative choice we could quickly get behind. With elements borrowed from fantasy and science fiction, the design made the clothes feel old yet modern. There was unity among them, while some characters had costumes that set them apart from others, particularly those of Ariel and Caliban. The former was adorned with black feathers at the collar and shoulders, with gold draping down to a black sheer and boned waist corset and dark grey barrel trousers. The latter had a look reminiscent of the BDSM fashion, wearing a grotesque pair of leather knickers, which was particularly fitting with Caligan's kissing of the feet and submissive nature.
All in all, the ambience is eerie and ethereal. The set is beautiful, and the use of fabric and lighting is ingenious. The costumes were well thought of, and the singing was sublime. We can't deny that the visuals were inspiring and showed a unique creative flair.
What Didn’t Work
While the set was incredibly beautiful, it created a mismatch between the original ambience and the comedic scenes. What was missing from those scenes was a visual cue to more pleasant emotions to facilitate laughter. The set dictates what the viewer will experience instinctually. Here, the mood is set for a world that feels oppressive, desolate, and full of anguish and despair but with notes of celestial and dainty touches to the air, evoking hope. Nothing in that space created room for humour and ridicule. Therefore, the scene where Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo are together does not work in this decor. That scene is meant as comedic relief and to contrast the rest of the characters but was not meant to contrast a modern, eerie, industrial look. I could visualise how well the comedy would land in a more colourful decor or Shakespearean look. Perhaps warmer-toned clothes for Stephano and Trinculo could have been the trick: it would also have helped distinguish them as servants from the aristocrats. Or the set could have been lit with a generalised orange glow (or more natural yellow tones) to create a different mood and guide the viewer into welcoming warmer emotions such as humour.
One aspect of the set didn't match the rest: the industrial elements. At some point, an LED flood light shining an orange glow appeared on the far right back of the stage. The kind of light we usually find on construction sites. Was it a mistake that only viewers in the grand circle could see but not others, or was it a deliberate choice? A moment later, a garage door at the far back is suddenly visible when the entire stage is brightly lit from above. The door reappears when
Ariel is liberated and leaves the stage through its opening. However, it did not work.
The creative choice for industrial elements is unclear, breaks the previously created ambience, and takes you out of the story. Neither the light's presence nor the garage door matched the eerie, magical feel of the set. The industrial look was somewhat confusing for this space. After all, this is meant to be an island, and no other elements evoked living spaces or indicated human prosperity before that. Therefore, as a viewer, the assumption made until then was that the island is empty, a place of survival, a barren land. And not a place where habitat has been built, constructed or even abandoned. A possible alternative to that garage door is wood, which could be lit to match the warmth of the orange glow and the grey tones of the desolate feel of other scenes.
Despite the beautiful and powerful music, the volume and transitions were not quite right. The sound choices lacked variety: music was usually delivered loudly and spontaneously. There was a distinct attempt to create surprise and overwhelm. To really feel overwhelmed, one must be increasingly drowning in emotions until it becomes unbearable. Some transition from silence to loud could have been used. In some instances, more build-up with the volume increasing crescendo would have helped amplify the emotions. Moreover, the best jump scare or surprise effect happens when one is fully immersed in what they are doing. By playing with build-up and creating a plateau for the emotions, one can create surprise by suddenly changing the sound. This interpretation of 'The Tempest' could have used some pointers from the sound designer Giles Thomas, who is behind the best sound work I have ever experienced in theatre, in the play Equus, directed by Ned Bennett (4).
The lack of build-up in the sound choices was relatively minor, especially compared to the character Prospero's speech delivery. It is challenging for most people to understand old Shakespearean English, especially as not everyone has the privilege of studying this language enough to be familiar with it. Hence, diction is crucial in helping the viewer comprehend the narrative. The person playing Prospero sounded as if they carried on 's' sounds across words and their liaisons, which could have been down to the sound technicians—although that issue wasn't present with other actors and actresses. The lack of clear diction requires the audience to concentrate further to understand the narrative or be distracted and lose key storyline elements.
Unfortunately, Prospero's lines were also delivered in a flat tone. The combination of a lingering 's' sound muddying the flow of words and a very flat delivery made it difficult to decipher between the start and end of words. In addition, the monotone speech also removed emotions and made it harder to connect with the character or rely on body language cues (of which tone plays a major part) to understand the story.
Even Prospero's gestures were flat, with stiff arms usually alongside the body or barely moving while talking. At times, the character was meant to be angry, but the only indication was that the voice was getting louder rather than revealing anger. The emotions didn't flow out of the actress and flattened the character's emotional landscape to a dull grey. The monotone speech contrasted with the delivery of other characters, who were much livelier or more realistic.
It was a bland rendition of Prospero, who was meant to have a complex arch. He is supposed to grow from a destitute man who enslaved Caliban and keeps Ariel as a servant with a lingering desire for being avenged to a man whose heart gets softened by his daughter's love for the King's son Ferdinand and eventually chooses to free himself from anger and others from his contempt. His final speech should evoke inner turmoil, leading to his confidence in his virtuous self and the goodness of liberation. That was not rendered on this particular night by this particular actress.
Overall, the industrial look broke the original ambience. The comedic scenes felt misplaced in this eerie world. Prospero was hard to connect with and understand. Some creative decisions and Prospero's rendition fell flat and took you out of the story.
Personal Takeaway
I was seated at the top of the theatre with a good view from the middle. I was enthralled and curious as soon as the pitch black took hold of us. I don't recall being in complete pitch black at a theatre before, and I appreciated the immersion. The set was stunning. However, as soon as they were talking, I couldn't understand a thing and realised this would become difficult to follow, but I was thrilled that I could let my mind concentrate on the visuals.
I had trouble fighting the desire to fall asleep when Prospero talked, and that character had long speeches. Hence, my realisation was that the tone was monotone. Her voice reminded me of the sleep stories on the Calm app, and the theatre's warm temperature created the ideal conditions for a snooze. However, that wasn't why I came, so I fought all my yawns by focusing on the set design and lighting.
I had fun noticing how the set was created. When the bright lights from above came in, you could spot the lines along the hills at regular intervals. I am guessing they made the hills using fibreglass, creating separate sections and fixing them together. I wondered if the person in charge sat at the top row to see from our point of view because those transitions could have been filled and polished a tad more to become truly invisible. Perhaps they had no more time or knew that most people wouldn't notice or care for it. To be fair, the lines weren't visible when the lights were dim. I also had fun observing the floaty fabric. I could sense what I assumed were two people holding the horizontal fabric piece and moving it up and down until the person on the left side released it and the person on the right pulled it across the stage. I love sensing all the people who are working backstage.
At the end of the play, I was shocked to see that people were cheering the actress who did Prospero, with some people, even at the Grand Circle, standing up in ovation and oohing their approval. I figured she must be famous because that would be the only explanation since that was a poor performance compared to the other actors and actresses –who did not get as much applause– and in comparison with many more performances, I have had the pleasure to see in London. Turns out, she is famous. Once out of the theatre, I learned she was the actress from Alien, Sigourney Weaver.
It is wonderful that she received support from fans, but the other actors and actresses deserve similar support since their performances were better, and it's a shame her fame overshadows that for them. This play demonstrates that being famous does not equate to mastering your craft or excelling in all disciplines within an industry. She now has the opportunity to work at her craft and grow in the theatre genre, and no doubt she will. Meanwhile, performers who don't seek or reach the status of fame should rest assured that aiming for mastery and excellence is as reputable and recognised, at least among us viewers who don't equate fame with excellence.
Overall, this theatre experience left me with mixed emotions. At times, I was in awe of the creative choices, but I was also left disconnected by how Prospero was played. The performance was hit-and-miss, so I would neither recommend nor discourage anyone from seeing it.
References
1- For tickets and information for this performance of 'The Tempest':
2- For information from the production company of 'The Tempest':
The Jamie Lloyd Company Creative team
DIRECTOR Jamie Lloyd
SET AND COSTUME DESIGNER Soutra Gilmour
LIGHTING DESIGNER Jon Clark
SOUND DESIGNERS AND CO-COMPOSERS Ben and Max Ringham
CO-COMPOSER Michael 'Mikey J' Asante
MOVEMENT DIRECTOR Fabian Aloise
ASSOCIATE DIRECTOR AND TEXT EDITOR Jonathan Glew
CASTING DIRECTOR Stuart Burt CDG
WIGS, HAIR AND MAKE UP DESIGNER Carole Hancock
INTIMACY COORDINATOR Ingrid Mackinnon
ASSOCIATE SET DESIGNER Rachel Wingate
ASSOCIATE COSTUME DESIGNER Anna Josephs
MUSICAL DIRECTOR Giles Deacon
PERFORMER FLYING & SFX DESIGN John Maddox for Suspended Illusions
ASSISTANT DIRECTOR Cory Hippolyte
ASSISTANT LIGHTING DESIGNER Amelia Fenwick
PROPS SUPERVISOR Fahmida Bakht
PRODUCTION MANAGER Lloyd Thomas
3- A full summary of the play is well explained here:
4 - For information about the play 'Equus':
