Review: THE TEMPEST, Shakespeare In The Squares

Treachery, a magical storm, a catastrophic shipwreck. Family, a far-away island, spirits, and a love story. All interwoven by music. Shakespeare's swansong might be concerned with its own nature of grand spectacle and the limited resources available to produce it realistically, but Prospero is a sorcerer, illusion is his craft, and everything is possible in a theatre.

What happens when you remove such an elaborate plot from a proscenium and whittle it down to a handful of players in a park and little-to-no staging and props? Pure theatrical magic is made. Shakespeare in the Squares are celebrating their fifth anniversary alongside their post-pandemic comeback and the start of summer with a delightful itinerant production of The Tempest.

Directed by Sioned Jones, the company deliver a quaint and enchanting take that's permeated by music and surprisingly self-aware of the imperialistic implications of its text. The exiled Duke of Milan becomes a conductor, his spells flying from the tip of his baton as his companions sing and play their instruments.

Quite the young and unexpected Prospero, Ellis Kerkhoven is an eccentric sorcerer. He is part Mad Hatter, part kooky musical genius, and full hippie neighbour who plays with wind chimes all day long. He controls his storm with a tambourine, then conducts the voyagers' desperate cries with his enchantments, delicately fascinated and amused by their losses.

His magic feels meta-theatrical. His rivals are introduced one by one as if summoned and dismissed with a swish of his wand. Kerkhoven's Prospero is as effortlessly funny as he is maliciously manipulative; although controlling, he loves deeply. He leads a spellbinding choir of performances, topped with an exquisite Indigo Griffiths as his daughter.

She is a decisive, strong-willed teenager whose emotional displays are very modern and sweet. Her relationship with Ferdinand very much feels like an alternate, happier version of Romeo and Juliet's. As her beloved, Wilf Walsworth is a fumbling, loving young man who is tremendously respectful and humble.

Walsworth doubles as Caliban, here a fishmongerish-looking lad ruled by spite and a deep sadness. Jones's curious, refreshing approach pairs two further couples. Antonio (William Shackleton) is very, very close to a gender-swapped Sebastian, here Sebastia (Sasha Wilson); and Stefano (Shackleton again), Alonso's butler, flirts mercilessly with Trincula (formerly known as Trinculo, played by Wilson).

It's an absolute joy to see such an intriguing take on the characters. Where Antonio and Sebastia are bullying, scheming, and villainous, their Stefano and Trincula are simpletons exhilarated by Caliban's apparent subservience and properly funny. They bounce off one another with ease and charisma in two enthralling tennis matches.

They're joined by an elegant and breezy Phyllis Ho as Ariel (though her open-air vocal projection might need some work), an Al Capone-sque Mark Carlisle as Alonso, and Laura Gómez Gracia as a Gonzala with delusions of political grandeur.

Jones simplifies the text to make it more accessible in the public square context, leaning into the comedic essence of The Tempest rather than lingering too long on its dramatic pull. It's an unpretentious, fun take that will be an excellent first Shakespeare for many in the audience.

The Tempest is touring gardens and squares across London until 8 July.