A terrific Tempest
The Bard in the big top
by Bill Rodriguez
The Bard would have been amused. After all, Prospero's Magic Island, or A
Tempest In a Big Top is a rollicking whirlwind of activity, with a
magician, two clownish buffoons and even an "Ariel" act. Sure. Shakespeare
would have joined the applause for this Pan-Twilight Circus version of The Tempest.
Gaudily decorated, the skeleton of the comedy is still here. The sorcerer Prospero
(Algernon D'Ammassa) is shipwrecked with his daughter Miranda (Anne Gardiner)
and their twisted wretch
of a slave, Calaban (Adam G. Gertsacov). Another wreck brings them a good
prospect for Miranda's hand, Ferdinand (Tom Sgouros), son of the King of Milan.
Under Bob Colonna's clever direction, the story is entertainingly reduced to
its essentials. Girl meets boy (with wide eyes: she has never seen a male
besides her father and the deformed Calaban), girl loses boy (Daddy pulls the
Fantasticks trick of pretending opposition so as to fan their mutual
interest) and girl finally gets boy again.
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This Prospero is gentler than most you'll find, amiably portrayed by D'Ammassa
as a bemused observed of goings-on. (When Miranda asks him how they survived
the recent storm, he says, "By Providence divine," pauses, and shakes his head,
resisting making some lame wordplay.) This fractured fairy tale is not much
longer than 90 minutes, including intermission. The "forsooths" and "verilie"s
are reduced to a minimum so we get plenty of what we came for: circus stuff. We
get it in little ways, such as Sgouros's firewood- dropping shtick, and in
bigger ways, such as a "Spanish Web" routine and an impressive chair-balancing
act.
On several occasions, the circus performances emerge from the story itself.
The most natural opportunity is with Ariel, the fairy servant that Prospero
rescued from imprisonment in a tree. Three performers play the sprite: Ivy
Brunelle as the voice, Chelsea Bacon doing some intricate
stationary trapeze work and Jennifer Richman-Cohen on a spinning rope. Since
Trinculo is a court jester in the play, that was a natural, with Nick Goldsmith
juggling balls at blazing speed.
The star of the show is Stephano, the drunken butler, when Jens Larson does
his remarkable balancing act. After tottering atop a tower of chairs, it
all culminates in his dramatic back-arched handstand way up on a stack of
blocks; then he knocks them away and comes to rest on his hands again.
Calaban is an eight-foot inhabited puppet designed by Marc Kohler (with the
puppeteer's head as a hump, Big Nazo-style). When he meets up with Stephano and
Trinculo, they conspire against Prospero. But because their encounter is
done as a dumb show, the two aren't very well integrated with Calaban.
Shakespeare had him think they were gods, but there's none of that trembling
awe here. And, surprisingly, gone too is drunken Stephano taking Calaban and
Trinculo, hiding from the rain under a cloth, to be a four-legged, two-voiced
monster, which could easily have been done without words.
There's no big Barnum & Bailey brass band, but we get something better. A
five-piece band headed by Steven L. Jobe never resorts to the usual oom-pah
music. Mideastern sounds, a musical saw and a hurdy-gurdy are more the engaging
norm in the several festive or haunting tunes he wrote for the show.
Yes. I think Shakespeare would have taken his nieces and nephews to this
big-top Tempest. He might even echo his line for Miranda: "Oh, wonder!
How many goodly creatures there are here!"
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