Magical

A top-notch Tempest

by Bill Rodriguez

THE TEMPEST. By William Shakespeare. Directed by Fred Sullivan Jr. With Sam Babbitt, Gwyn Anderson, David Tessier, Chris Perrotti, Joshua Allen, Rudy Sanda, Anthony Estrella. Presented by the Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre at the LaSalle Academy Arts Center through August 26.

There is not a more magical play in all of Shakespeare than The Tempest, but rarely does a production convey all its fantastical delights as well as the current effort by Sandra Feinstein-Gamm Theatre.

Staged in a bright, new air-conditioned space at the LaSalle Academy Arts Center, the performance is a joy to behold. Thereís so much spirit ó and so many spirits ó about, that you have to remind yourself that itís not classified strictly as a comedy, but as a tragicomedy. A usurped throne is restored, giddy lovers are mutually smitten and united, and a rightful king poignantly finds peace through forgiveness, all while a riot of human rascality and impish mischief swirls around them.

Prospero (Sam Babbitt) is the lawful Duke of Milan, but his crown was seized by his evil brother many years before when he was marooned on a far-away island with his daughter Miranda (Gwyn Anderson). He is a sorcerer, and his spell has stirred up a tempest that has stranded a ship carrying both his pretender brother Antonio (Paul Buxton) and the King of Naples (Nigel Gore). He also has spirits to do his bidding, most prominently Ariel (David Tessier), and even a monster, Caliban (Chris Perrotti), to do the heavy lifting. (Spawn of the deceased witch Sycorax, he was nurtured kindly by Prospero until he displayed his foul intentions toward Miranda.)

As musical director, Tessier has jam-packed this tale with buoyant tunes to turn the Bardís verses into songs. By the end, when Prospero has summoned all his spirits for a final revel, the stage is hopping like a Calypso carnival, complete with masked dancers and tropical costumes. As Ariel, he also has some festive songs to sing, which he does quite well.

Itís hard to imagine a better fit than Andersonís Miranda and Joshua Allen as Ferdinand, the son of the King of Naples, who thinks his father and all others aboard have drowned. Miranda is a guileless, wide-eyed innocent so unaccustomed to social interaction that when he takes her hand and kneels, she kneels too. As the only man besides her father and Caliban that she has ever seen, he is a worthy representative, a gentle soul you can root for.

As fine as other aspects of this production are, the unabashed crowd-pleasers are the unholy comical trio of drunken butler Stephano (Anthony Estrella), jester Trinculo (Rudy Sanda), and abject suck-up Caliban. In a shamelessly ribald sight gag, Shakespeare has the monster hide under a blanket which the jester soon hides under as well, backwards. Stephano staggers up, having just tapped into a keg of wine, and sees what looks to be a crawling monster with four human legs. In two major scenes, the comical triumvirate are hilarious. Discovering alcohol with all the fervor of Miranda laying eyes on her first young man, Perrottiís groveling Caliban stoops to not merely boot-licking but toe-sucking. Sanda gets gymnastic in embellishing pratfalls. And by the time of their rousing musical slapstick ending before the intermission break, the crowd was on its feet applauding.

One particularly striking thing about this production is the depth of serious concern Prospero conveys amidst all the frivolity. Between Sullivanís direction and Babbittís talent, the rightful kingís forgiveness of his brother is more than a politic avoidance of bloodshed, but also a matter of finding peace within himself. Like the playwright, this Prospero is a man looking toward the end of his life. Shakespeare returned permanently to Stratford in 1610, wrote this play the following year, and died five years later. Prospero looks toward returning to Milan where, he says, ìevery third thought shall be my grave.î

Itís always encouraging to be reminded that acting chops and directorial imagination can go far to make up for not having a Trinity Rep-sized budget. Less can stand in for more. The opening tempest came alive with a projection of a raging storm on the ìsailî and with straining halyards crisscrossing the stage, but besides the shipís wheel in that scene, the only major prop in William Laneís set design is a palm tree ó but a fine palm tree it is, with real fronds on top and a stylized lathe trunk. Little touches donít cost much but mean a lot: costume designer Marilyn Salvatore came up with a simple but magical robe for Prospero: dark velvet, ragged-edged and sun-bleached but looking for all of that like a starry night sky.

Check out this production of The Tempest. Youíll have a standard by which to measure any others you see in the future.