It may be a myth that this is Shakespeare’s retirement piece, but it seems a fitting choice to mark the end of Dominic Dromgoole’s 11-year tenure at the Globe. With its flying gods and rough magic, it sits perfectly in this exquisite indoor playhouse. It also requires a belief in the power of language and acting that has been one of Dromgoole’s strengths during his time in charge.
Tim McMullan, long overdue for promotion to star roles, is an excellent Prospero in that he conveys the character’s internal struggle between vengeful fury and humane tenderness. McMullan has the advantage of a rich bass voice, but also intelligently highlights Prospero’s emphatic use of the possessive pronoun, telling us that “graves at my command have waked their sleepers”. Yet the irony that McMullan has recently brought to plays by Shaw and Stoppard is evident too, in the way he slyly announces he’s conjuring up a baroque spectacle for his daughter and her wooer because “they expect it from me”. While excavating the text, McMullan also avoids turning the role into a poetry recital, so that when he comes to the most familiar passage of all – “we are such stuff as dreams are made on” – he movingly and unexpectedly breaks down.
This reminds us that the key to the play lies in seeing an act of angry retribution turn into an occasion for reconciliation. The other pivotal performance, in fact, comes from Pippa Nixon as an Ariel who shows a fascinated wonderment with the shipwrecked figures it is her mission to manipulate. Nixon, who was a superb Rosalind at Stratford, is not just nimble and delicate: she moves among the wayward mortals with delighted curiosity and even silently hugs Ferdinand with erotic glee. All this makes total sense, since it is Ariel’s tenderness that finally propels Prospero to elevate mercy above revenge.
I’ve sometimes been critical of Dromgoole’s tendency on the big stage to give the comic characters too much licence, but here Dominic Rowan’s Trinculo, helpfully explaining that a “doit” is a small coin, and Trevor Fox’s Stephano make good use of improvisation. There is strong support from Christopher Logan as a waspish Neapolitan lord and Phoebe Pryce as a slowly awakening Miranda. But while there are moments of legitimate spectacle, such as Ariel’s descent from the skies like a multicoloured bat, and the later intrusion of skeletal beasts, this is a production that pays foremost attention to Prospero’s internal conflict and to Shakespeare’s language. I just hope Dromgoole’s successor, Emma Rice, inherits his faith in the power of the word.
- At the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, London, until 22 April. Box office: 020-7401 9919.
