Tempest tells tale of life on a fantasy island...

DID Shakespeare enjoy a remarkable prescience that informed him of the future emergence of Boris Johnson? Could he have imagined back in the early 17th century that such chaos would reign, such as relying upon an army to bring fuel to our cities?

Or that one day in Scotland we’d need a passport to enter a theatre, yet not be able to have one, if we’ve married and changed our name?

Well, it seems that Will was on the money. The Tempest tells the tale of life on a tiny fantasy island after a shipwreck, a perfect allegory for the Covid pandemic.

The central character, Prospero, is the leader of the island, a Boris in fact, and a man more desperate to cling onto power that Dame Cressida Dick. Prospero and Boris are also crowd pleasers, platespinners, smoke-and-mirrors practitioners desperate to maintain the illusion of positivity; but both are in denial of the realities all around them.

Yes, there is a perceived geniality both characters, but it’s all a front for an underlying need to dominate. And both are surrounded by evil goblins. (Come on; didn’t you also think immediately of Michael Gove and Priti Patel?)

Now, no one is saying that Boris Johnson would, as Prospero did, marry off his daughter in order to maintain control of the island. But didn’t he offer up his new partner (and their dog) for every cosy photo opportunity available?

And didn’t he show Prospero-like indifference when he sacrificed the likes of Matt

Hancock and

Dominic

Cummings?

Doesn’t he employ a series of ruthless Calibans, a character described by Shakespeare as a ‘shoe licker’.

It seems perfect timing that director Andy Arnold has determined to resurrect The Tempest. It’s a play that’s dreamlike, surreal (just think of Iain Duncan Smith hit on the head with a traffic cone, or 90-year-old Captain Kirk going into space) romantic and cruel? Doesn’t that sum up the situation in our own little island right now?

It’s also a play about the marginalisation and fragility of women. (Perhaps Cressida Dick should be sent an invite).

Yet, you make look at the casting of an all-female cast of 11 women and raise your eyebrows. What in the name of Gielgud (one of the most talked-about Prosperos ever) is going on? And shouldn’t we expect the evil Caliban to be played by Lenny from River City?

But bear this in mind; three years ago, the Tron launched Pride and Prejudice (Sort of) with an all-female cast wearing frocks and Doc Martens. And I had more reservations than the Sioux. Yet, it was wonderful and has now transferred to London’s West End.

Forgiveness and repentance are themes which emerge in the end of the play. Did Shakespeare anticipate that the courts of Covid inquiry will find in favour of those who behaved so egregiously, or that politicians will rush to declare mea culpa?

Maybe Will wasn’t so

great on endings.

The Tempest, Tron Theatre, Glasgow. Friday October 29-Saturday 13 November