The Tempest
Reviewed by Martίn Hernández
Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles and After Hours Production
Through April 16
RECOMMENDED
While inundating storms may have receded recently, another one is brewing over at the Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles which has partnered with After Hours Theatre Company for a sumptuous “immersive” co-production of William Shakespeare’s tale of revenge, love, and compassion. After boarding the “King’s Ship” on its journey from Tunis to Milan, we are soon engulfed in a raging hurricane on the Tyrrhenian Sea, replete with thunder and lightning. Along with the stalwart crew, we abandon ship and are stranded on a lush tropical isle. If that ride was bumpy, wander around the environs a bit, grab a drink, then sit and revel in the romantic, dramatic, and comic squalls that are blowing our way. The forecast is for enchantment and poignancy thanks to a resilient ensemble under Ben Donenberg’s elegant direction, abetted by the superb work of the design crew.
Prospero (a mesmerizing Chris Butler) is the canny sorcerer who rules the island and confesses to his curious daughter Miranda (Kay Sibal), that it was he who conjured up the turmoil bringing the vessel to their shores. He explains that all passengers are safe, that this was by design, and that twelve years ago he was the Duke of Milan but was ousted in a coup d’état schemed by his brother Antonio (an oily Rodney Gardiner) — who is (not coincidentally) the current duke thanks to the aid of Alonso (Leith Burke), the King of Naples. Prospero was also supposed to be killed but friends spirited him and the three-year-old Miranda away onto “a rotten carcass of a boat” that crashed to bits, though they were provided with clothing, food, and Prospero’s precious books.
The two conspiratorial monarchs were on board the newly demolished ship, along with Alonso’s own treacherous sibling Sebastian (Christopher Rivera), Alonso’s naïve son Ferdinand (Ulato Sam), and sundry minions of each royal family. With the aid of his servant, the nimble sprite Ariel (Jin Marley), Prospero has sorted his strategic hostages about the island and plots to regain his duchy. But tossing a wrench in that plan is Caliban (a nefarious yet aching Wayne T. Carr), a half man, half monster who ruled the island prior to Prospero’s arrival and is now the magician’s slave.
Anchoring the piece is Butler’s bravura performance as Prospero as well as his heady and fluid grasp of the Bard’s text that makes it easily accessible. At his most blustery, raging over Antonio’s betrayal, or his most tender, vacillating over his contradictory feelings for Ariel, Butler brings a stirring vulnerability to the wronged ruler and, at times, the timbre of a revival preacher. Whirling a staff with abandon, his Prospero is a force to be reckoned with. Sibal’s waiflike, practical Miranda and Sam’s lanky, infatuated Ferdinand make for engaging young lovers, radiating amusing vibes when they meet cute and their romance blossoms, another goal of Prospero’s scheme. The slapstick mischief of Alonso’s jester Trinculo (Daniel T. Parker) and soused butler Stephano (K.T Vogt) is hilarious while skirting the line of fat-shaming. Marley’s turn as Ariel during her tenuous moments with the volatile Prospero is ethereal.
The horseshoe seating arrangement serves Donnenberg’s intimate staging well, with ensemble members at times close enough to touch – beware as a performer may fall asleep on your thigh. Dana Rebecca Woods’ costumes, such as Calliban’s brown scaly-skinned leotard, Miranda’s tasseled skirt and skimpy top, and Prospero’s elaborately flowing robe, strikingly suit the characters. Designer Leah Ramillano has crafted an elaborate forest setting that audience members can peruse prior to the show. Festooned from floor to ceiling is green plastic foliage and a raised platform sits upstage and serves as Prospero’s base of operations. Dan Weingarten’s intermittent multi-hued lighting shines through the seams of that station’s wooden planks, setting the mood for crucial scenes. While overhead lighting may be too intense for some tender eyes, Weingarten’s overall plot complements Donnenberg’s elaborately intriguing concept.
Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles and After Hours Productions, 1238 W 1st St, Los Angeles; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat., 1:30 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through April 16. https://www.shakespearecenter.org/. (Running time: Two hours and 15 minutes, including intermission.)
