Trinity Lloyd and Brefny Caribou in “The Tempest”, Photo by Jeremy Mimnagh
I was very late in discovering Theatre Rusticle. It was exactly four years ago, in January of 2020, that I was fully transported by their fanciful and erotic production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. At the time, it seemed as if director Allyson McMackon would be closing up shop permanently just as I discovered her kinetic, intuitive vision. To my delight, she’s back with some familiar collaborators, offering up an enchanting production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest.
Shakespeare’s final play feels astonishingly modern in its meta-theatricality. In the character of Prospero—usurped duke of Milan turned into an earthy sorcerer, the magical patriarch of a mostly deserted island—we have a man interrogating his legacy, reflecting on his ability to manipulate both people and environments. In his final lines, he asks to be released from servitude to us, his rapt audience, having fulfilled his great function as storyteller.
There are also myriad references to his many plays. Tropes abound, but with self-aware twists and thwarted action. Opportunistic nobles plot murder, but their plans are foiled! Young lovers think they are joined in defiance of their parents, but alas—it is all part of a sneaky plan! Tragic set-ups are resolved with romance, forgiveness and humour. A philosophical staple of Shakespeare’s comedies, which are generous in their view of humanity—people can and do change.
But you aren’t here to read me prattle on about my love for Shakespeare’s craft; you want to know about this staging. And it is a truly wondrous and stirring work. I want to call it minimalist, but that would diminish its abundant charms. There is no set, but the deeply considered gestural language McMackon and the cast bring to the text is insightful and evocative.
Brandon Kleiman’s costumes—dark blue fabric cinched with leather belts—echo the play’s water and earth imagery; as does the pale blue surface of the vast stage. Key props and accessories help indicate which of the fifteen characters each of the five cast members are playing in any given scene—a metal chain for the indentured monster Caliban, robe and pearl-topped wand for Prospero, ruffs at the neck for nobles. Lindsay Anne Black’s gorgeous ship-themed hats are a whimsical highlight.
With her simple yet fully immersive lighting design, Michelle Ramsay creates a vivid atmosphere. Smooth shifts from cool to warm establish mood, though I particularly loved the striking patterns of entwined vines to suggest enchanted jungle textures.
Devoted yet desperate to be free, the woodland spirit Ariel is played by several of the actors at once. This whimsical choice not only gives ample stage-time to the full ensemble, it conveys Ariel’s mystical quality and his conflicted feelings towards Prospero—a kind master who freed him from imprisonment yet enslaves him nonetheless.
From their initial meet-cute through to their marriage, the romance between Ferdinand and Prospero’s daughter Miranda is a giddy and endearing sight. Each pair of actors embodying the roles maintain a distinct continuum, yet allowing new colours to emerge from their dynamic. There is a cumulative enrichment of the other characters too as the communal portrayal of each develops. Brefny Caribou, Beck Lloyd, Trinity Lloyd, Jill Goranson and Annie Tuma are entirely compelling throughout.
The spectacle of goddesses Juno, Ceres and Iris appearing to bless the young lovers’ nuptials with their iridescent wings is not only a stunning visual, but a hilarious take on the event as they try to one-up each other in a dazzling competition.
Jamming it full of all the things, The Tempest could be considered Shakespeare’s swan song. I certainly hope this isn’t the same for Theatre Rusticle. Funny, moving, and innovative—this is an exhilarating production. Please, let there be more.
The Tempest
running January 18 to 24, 2024
Buddies In Bad Times Theatre (12 Alexander Street)
running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes (with intermission)
Trinity Lloyd Beck Lloyd in “The Tempest”, Photo by Jeremy Mimnagh