DRAMA: A critical analysis of an RSC production of The Tempest
by Lynne Biles
Analyse the ‘live’ broadcast of the 2016 RSC Tempest directed by Gregory Doran indicating to what extent you agree with a review.
Doran’s 2016 experimental yet gimmicky high-tech RSC revival of The Tempest received mixed reviews as it left many audience members disoriented by the dissonance between the high-brow theatrics expected from leading Shakespeare companies and the use of all-encompassing and, at times, suffocating digital effects. In his review for The Evening Standard, Henry Hitchings’ opinion resonates with the more conservative readership suggesting that it is “rough magic… [that] makes [theatre] so enduring [as] an artform”[1] opposed to Doran’s flashy tech additions in this particular adaptation. Though there is a certain draw to the innovative spectacle developed by Intel, Imaginarium Studios, and the Royal Shakespeare Company- with it displaying perhaps a look into the future possibilities and capabilities of theatre practice- it is clear that, especially in retrospect, the overpowering and, in places, glitchy motion capture sometimes misses the mark, often detracting and upstaging the ‘magic’ created by such a wonderfully talented cast.
Hitchings, like many of his fellow critics, begins his piece by tackling the subject of one of the biggest selling points of the show- Ariel’s motion capture double. In the promotional works for the show, Doran himself boasts the two-year development[2] of this particular effect, which is reflected by Hitchings’ focus on the complexity of what he dubs as “cyber-thespianism.”[3] However, despite initially acknowledging and outlining how the effect is created, Hitchings fails to actually describe the overall effect it has on the audience. Here, I am more inclined to draw upon the compelling arguments set out by Peter Ormerod’s review in Warwickshire World. Ormerod recognises the “flashiness and cleverness”[4] of the projection work but discusses how it inevitably outshines the core of the production, the cast members. Personally, my experience reflects this as, despite Mark Quartley’s captivatingly ethereal physicality, less can be said for the lack lustre disembodied double that, though somewhat successfully employed to create a vast array of shapeshifting spiritual forms for Ariel, does so in a disconcerting manner with motion caption errors sometimes resulting in limbs disappearing mid-scene[5]. However, my critical opinion could easily be due to the fact I engaged with the show in a digital format over five years after its initial run, thus significantly changing my viewing experience compared to that of the intended live audience as I am provided with a more detailed and close perspective to notice minor mistakes that may have gone unnoticed on the night. On the other hand, the technical spectacle was not a complete loss as there were particularly effective moments that were created visually through the use of projection, a personal favourite being the haunting bodies of the drowning Italians in the eponymous storm from the opening scene.[6]
Another aspect of impressive staging that Hitchings identifies in his review is Stephen Brimson Lewis’ design work for the largescale barebones of a wrecked ship in which the play takes place. Hitchings’ praise of the “traditional virtues”[7] of the set design is an example of how the impact of the physical triumphs over the digital time and time again in a performance largely created and remembered for its heavily technical pioneer-work. The unmoving and unchanging boat towering over the performers allowed forbidding spots and levels that hark back to the columns and balconies present within the traditional playhouse stage structure the play was initially made to be performed on. This constant and solidly physical set piece in a play that functions mostly on illusion has a lasting impact on an audience member as it is arguably one of the most memorable visual elements of the show. Though the contrasting sandy beach tones and campy dizzying colours of the costumes, which significantly draw much inspiration from various historical garments associated with imperialistic pasts, create a clear differentiation between the foreign, the local, the mortal and the supernatural, it is the surprising versatility of the framing set-piece that Hitchings, unlike other reviewers who were too distracted by the digital spectacle, rightfully commends as the “heart”[8] of the show.
Another crucial element of Doran’s production is the casting choice of Simon Russell Beale as a less cruel and more sympathetic iteration of Prospero. Though the review in The Evening Standard touches on Beale’s role within the show, I believe it downplays the extent of the excellence of his performance and its inevitable eclipse by the addition of busy technical elements. It is clear that Beale’s performance is a tour de force, with Hitchings noting its “dry but moving”[9] nature. Though this ‘dryness’ could be an active choice from Doran and Beale to create an understated and effortlessly genuine Prospero, the strange juxtaposition that comes from the actor’s “eloquence [that] asserts itself” [10] fighting against over-hyped digital interventions, overshadows a performance where, in other contexts, Beale would hold utter command. Billington’s Guardian review summarises this best by discussing how the humanity created by Beale’s performance could have been effectively “overshadowed.”[11] Although Billington believes Beale to not be a victim of technological upstaging, I still feel that part of his acting prowess is lost on a distracted audience who do not get to fully appreciate the sheer gravitas the actor is more than capable of producing with no help from digital interference.
Likewise, it can be argued that the rest of the cast suffer much the same way as Beale with seemingly one notable exception. As recognised by numerous other critics, Hitchings also comments on the comedic departure from the more human and moral moments Doran seemingly strived to create that came with the presence of Simon Trinder’s Trinculo, Tony Jayawardena’s Stephano and Joe Dixon’s Caliban. Returning to an increasingly minimal and simplistic form of physical humour, the scenes revolving around the clown, the drunkard and the slave can seem a little slow in comparison to the grandiose spectacle of other scenes but are a welcome respite in act two scene two and act three scene two. With just a gaberdine, a fish and a pitcher of wine, the trio are able to captivate the audience as well as an overcrowded stage illuminated with various projections. Hitchings particularly praises Joe Dixon’s portrayal as a particularly “tender”[12] Caliban, which I agree is a very humanising touch to a character that too often is presented as a naive island savage rather than a victim of slavery, trickery, manipulation and abuse throughout. However, I do believe it is particularly important to point towards more progressive reviews such as Alice Saville’s in TimeOut who points out the problematic implications and undertones of slave narratives that go almost unacknowledged by Doran who practically shies away from presenting the harsh reality of slavery that contemporary audiences expect.[13] Despite this issue, the stripped back and simplistic nature of the trio’s scenes, which could have easily become forgettable due to the significant tonal shift that nearly does not fit with the rest of the play, works so well because they allow for the actor's talents to really shine through and finally take centre stage.
The meditation Hitchings closes his article with is particularly thought-provoking as he muses on the “rough magic” that can only be created solely by the theatre. Shakespeare was indeed able to convey the fantastical world of The Tempest in his own time, far removed from constantly improving technical elements developing in the 21st century. Both Billington and Ormerod echo similar opinions in their pieces, with the latter stating how the cutting-edge “lavishness… [comes] at the expense of the discipline”[14] thus losing something integral to the physical bodily or imaginative elements of performance. By overapplying effects for the sake of visual spectacle, Doran takes away the audience’s opportunity to enjoy the creative illusionary skills of live performing bodies, by forcing blunt and blatantly artificial effects that inevitably suffocate the living performances that have to battle against unconvincingly monstrous dogs and ten-foot bird spirits. Despite this, like Billington, I do appreciate Doran’s experiment into the digital capabilities of the art of theatre as the technological boundaries pushed by the RSC’s 2016 production of The Tempest, though perhaps demonstrating it to smothering extremes, has allowed for further playful experimentation within the discipline while also making us appreciate the power and magic of live actors.
Overall, Hitchings’ review in The Evening Standard partially demonstrates the extent of Doran’s hits and misses with his spectacular production marking the quadricentennial anniversary of the Bard’s death. Despite Doran’s intention being to “match Shakespeare’s imagination,”[15] it is clear that critics such as Hitchings found that the piece had fallen short. Personally, I believe this may be because the magic of performance lies with its ability to lend itself to the suspension of disbelief. As audience members, we have been trained to embrace the suspension of disbelief in the theatre, imagination becomes key for all participants on and off stage. A director does not necessarily have to sacrifice the imagination to achieve illusions. However, by literally recreating every element of illusion through artificial means, Doran ends up distancing his production from the magic he is trying to replicate, undermining the existing power of the stage and actors.
[1] Henry Hitchings, Review of The Tempest directed by Gregory Doran, The Evening Standard, 2016, Theatre Record, p.1307.
[2] Royal Shakespeare Company, ‘400 years in the making | Intel x The RSC | Experience Amazing | London,’ 2017, 0:00:42.
[3] Hitchings p. 1306
[4] Peter Ormerod, ‘Review: RSC's high-tech Tempest just needs one special effect: Simon Russell Beale,’ Warwickshire World, 2016.
[5] For example, in Act 3 Scene 3 Quartly’s corporeal leg is hidden behind the shipwreck set piece resulting in occasional disappearance of his larger birdlike harpy counterpart’s right leg see The Tempest directed by Gregory Doran, 2016, Digital Theatre+, 1:15:14-1:18:22
[6]Doran’s The Tempest 0:03:15-0:03:32
[7] Hitchings p. 1307
[8] Hitchings p.1307
[9] Ibid.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Michael Billington, Review of The Tempest, directed by Gregory Doran, The Guardian, 2016, Theatre Record p.1307
[12] Hitchings p. 1307
[13] Alice Saville, Review of The Tempest, directed by Gregory Doran, Time Out, 2017.
[14] Ormerod
[15] Royal Shakespeare Company 0:00:28
Bibliography
Billington, Michael. Review of The Tempest, directed by Gregory Doran, The Guardian, 19 Nov 2016. Theatre Record, vol. 36, no. 23, 2017, p. 1307. https://www.theatrerecord.com/downloads/pdf.php?issueid=177.
Doran, Gregory, director. The Tempest. By William Shakespeare. Royal Shakespeare Theatre. Royal Shakespeare Company, 2016, https://edu.digitaltheatreplus.com/content/productions/the-tempest-rsc.
Hitchings, Henry. Review of The Tempest, directed by Gregory Doran, The Evening Standard, 18 Nov 2016. Theatre Record, vol. 36, no. 23, 2017, pp. 1306-1307. https://www.theatrerecord.com/downloads/pdf.php?issueid=177.
Ormerod, Peter. ‘Review: RSC's high-tech Tempest just needs one special effect: Simon Russell Beale.’ Warwickshire World, 18 Nov 2016. https://www.warwickshireworld.com/lifestyle/review-rscs-high-tech-tempest-just-needs-one-special-effect-simon-russell-beale-761234.
Saville, Alice. Review of The Tempest, directed by Gregory Doran, TimeOut, 7 Jul 2017. https://www.timeout.com/london/theatre/the-tempest-34.
‘400 years in the making | Intel x The RSC | Experience Amazing | London.’ YouTube, uploaded by Royal Shakespeare Company, 24 May 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfKcucNfN2M.
