July 17, 2006
Dir: Colin Macnee
The Tempest, the last play Shakespeare completed alone, is a mercurial thing. Interpretations abound – fantastical, political, psychological. Film versions as various as The Forbidden Planet or Peter Greenaway’s loopy Prospero’s Books are also testament to its versatility. Even so, it’s a surprise that Oxford Theatre Guild’s 2006 summer production has managed to bring another twist, making it more of a comedy and less of a mystery. Which is not to say that it’s not good fun – it most certainly is. There’s just nothing tempestuous about it. Director Colin Macnee aims for a ‘cathartic emotional storm’, say his notes. But while the players give impressive power to the poetry, there’s little emotional oomph, no darkness, no bite. On its own terms, though, it’s yet another entertaining production from an accomplished company.
Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, inhabit a remote and magical island, cast away years ago when Prospero was deposed as the Duke of Milan. Ruling his new kingdom with a magician’s grip, master of good spirit Ariel and primitive monster Caliban, Prospero seeks revenge on his enemies. Raising a tempest to wreck their ship, Prospero has the usurpers in his power. But what are his intentions? And when Miranda falls the King of Milan’s son, is that, too, a part of Prospero’s plan?
The stage for this Tempest is a rough-hewn, tiered construction jutting out from the trees of Trinity College gardens, suggestive of the “barren rock” of the island itself and of the ships that have foundered there. It’s a wonderfully compact space lending variety and intimacy for the action, even if the central dwelling - part hut, part tower – plays less of a part than you think it will. It’s a shame the stage is located so close to Trinity’s Parks Road entrance, where gate-gapers, traffic and nearby pub-noise can be distracting. A more secluded spot would’ve been truer to the tale and its telling.
Colin Burnie is a commanding presence as Prospero, a Duke to his fingertips. Less apparent, is the anger and menace of the man. Without this, we lose the edginess of his temper. Estelle Buckridge as Miranda is engaging as the daughter waking to womanhood; and Alex Rogers is suavely comic and tender as her lover. Especially enjoyable is Rowena Lennon who plays Ariel with a Peter Pan playfulness - pouty and Puck-like – and with an appropriate lightness of touch. She sings beautifully too. Joseph Kenneway also deserves credit as Caliban, an affecting performance of brave physicality, with shaven head and tattoos.
There’s enjoyably broad humour from ship’s mates Trincula and Stephano and from the scheming courtiers. The comedic emphasis does, though, lessen the drama and one could wish for more restrained sound effects, which tend to cramp the actors’ considerable style. Quibbles apart, while this is a decidedly non-magical or menacing Tempest, the lighter tone is nevertheless well-suited to a summer’s evening of imaginative entertainment.
The poignancy of this opening evening was quite rightly lent by Colin Burnie’s heartfelt tribute to Oxford Theatre Guild veteran Peter Mottley, who had died only the day before. The performance was dedicated to him. Many in the audience knew the name and felt the loss. It was a performance worthy of the man, and the Theatre Guild should be as proud of itself as Oxford is of Peter Mottley and the Guild he loved.
The Tempest, the last play Shakespeare completed alone, is a mercurial thing. Interpretations abound – fantastical, political, psychological. Film versions as various as The Forbidden Planet or Peter Greenaway’s loopy Prospero’s Books are also testament to its versatility. Even so, it’s a surprise that Oxford Theatre Guild’s 2006 summer production has managed to bring another twist, making it more of a comedy and less of a mystery. Which is not to say that it’s not good fun – it most certainly is. There’s just nothing tempestuous about it. Director Colin Macnee aims for a ‘cathartic emotional storm’, say his notes. But while the players give impressive power to the poetry, there’s little emotional oomph, no darkness, no bite. On its own terms, though, it’s yet another entertaining production from an accomplished company.
Prospero, and his daughter Miranda, inhabit a remote and magical island, cast away years ago when Prospero was deposed as the Duke of Milan. Ruling his new kingdom with a magician’s grip, master of good spirit Ariel and primitive monster Caliban, Prospero seeks revenge on his enemies. Raising a tempest to wreck their ship, Prospero has the usurpers in his power. But what are his intentions? And when Miranda falls the King of Milan’s son, is that, too, a part of Prospero’s plan?
The stage for this Tempest is a rough-hewn, tiered construction jutting out from the trees of Trinity College gardens, suggestive of the “barren rock” of the island itself and of the ships that have foundered there. It’s a wonderfully compact space lending variety and intimacy for the action, even if the central dwelling - part hut, part tower – plays less of a part than you think it will. It’s a shame the stage is located so close to Trinity’s Parks Road entrance, where gate-gapers, traffic and nearby pub-noise can be distracting. A more secluded spot would’ve been truer to the tale and its telling.
Colin Burnie is a commanding presence as Prospero, a Duke to his fingertips. Less apparent, is the anger and menace of the man. Without this, we lose the edginess of his temper. Estelle Buckridge as Miranda is engaging as the daughter waking to womanhood; and Alex Rogers is suavely comic and tender as her lover. Especially enjoyable is Rowena Lennon who plays Ariel with a Peter Pan playfulness - pouty and Puck-like – and with an appropriate lightness of touch. She sings beautifully too. Joseph Kenneway also deserves credit as Caliban, an affecting performance of brave physicality, with shaven head and tattoos.
There’s enjoyably broad humour from ship’s mates Trincula and Stephano and from the scheming courtiers. The comedic emphasis does, though, lessen the drama and one could wish for more restrained sound effects, which tend to cramp the actors’ considerable style. Quibbles apart, while this is a decidedly non-magical or menacing Tempest, the lighter tone is nevertheless well-suited to a summer’s evening of imaginative entertainment.
The poignancy of this opening evening was quite rightly lent by Colin Burnie’s heartfelt tribute to Oxford Theatre Guild veteran Peter Mottley, who had died only the day before. The performance was dedicated to him. Many in the audience knew the name and felt the loss. It was a performance worthy of the man, and the Theatre Guild should be as proud of itself as Oxford is of Peter Mottley and the Guild he loved.