Beale is the most special effect
The Tempest Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon
Technological marvels are the order of the day in this RSC Tempest, with a welcome side order of Simon Russell Beale, returning to the company after 22 years in the valedictory-feeling role of Prospero.
Beale, one of our most insightful, steady-as-she-goes Shakespeareans, could always be relied upon to deliver the goods – and he does so in eloquent, emotionally piercing style. The big talking-point of Gregory Doran’s revival, though, is its much-touted digital wizardry. Would it amaze – or would we get that sinking feeling?
Well, the gamble has paid off handsomely, with no obvious glitches on opening night. The fruit of a twoyear partnership involving computer chip firm Intel and special effects studio Imaginarium, the visuals, particularly those that enhance the actions of Mark Quartley’s otherworldly Ariel, are, true to the hype, of a breathtaking order.
Granted, the opening tempest sequence is a bit of a damp squib. There’s a lot of time to soak up the imposing atmosphere of Stephen Brimson Lewis’s towering set, adorned by wooden remnants of a ship’s hull, but audibility suffers amid the thunderous sound effects.
Once Beale’s donnish-looking Prospero, grey-bearded, bare-foot and in a black gown, utters the line, “Approach, my Ariel, come!”, though, the magic unfolds apace. Hair punkishly sculpted, Quartley, lithe and nimble, wears a scaly, figure-hugging body-suit lined with motion-capturing sensors. As he twists, turns and moves on stage, above us, on one of a number of gauze-like sheets that descend from an over-hanging petal-like cluster, a corresponding figure, composed seemingly of energy, flits and float-walks about, dissolving in mist, multiplying in form too. Incredible.
And there’s more where that came from. When Prospero reminds him of his confinement in a “cloven pine”, he is transfigured into a tree-like figure – a touch of The Hobbit, there – and when he changes later into a wing-flapping, evil-eyed monster, with talons, it’s as if the dark shadow of Mordor has entered the frame.
Does the trickery almost steal the show? A touch. Some of the barer, sparer scenes suffer a little in comparison; Prospero’s other slave, Caliban (Joe Dixon), with his faux belly and stuck-on spine, looks rather oldschool by comparison. Yet there is barely a dull moment, and crucially, poignantly, Beale – who movingly delivers key lines from “our revels now are ended” directly to his daughter Miranda (Jenny Rainsford), moved to tears at her devotion for Prince Ferdinand – winds up in just a simple pool of light. Here is low-tech ordinary man asking for one final imaginative leap on our part to waft him on his way to Naples. The magic lies in us, too.
‘Another figure, composed seemingly of energy, flits and float-walks about, dissolving in mist… Incredible’