What makes Julie Taymor’s adaptation of THE TEMPEST so audacious, against the negative reception to its showing when it debuted in 2010– is that it opened up space inside the Bard’s play to reveal themes that the text might otherwise not have room to accommodate. Its not the magic or illusions that is its metaphor but the issues of power. Foremost is the switch in gender from Prospero to Prospera, fiercely played by Hellen Mirren. Pronouns are flipped but the address of “Master” is retained, perhaps because it connotes more power than “Mistress”. That said, Prospera is still robbed of her Dukedom by her brother, but here he deployed an accusation of “Witch” against her. The acid with which she delivers the line, “Knowing that others of my sex have burned for less” lingers long after it is hissed.
Taymor’s Prospera is a powerful woman who has not used her sex to achieve or maintain her power, confident in her decisions, while only being motherly towards her daughter. She relinquishes that power without tears, though the heavy sighs she breathes as Ariel (played by the excellent Ben Whishaw) tightly laces her corset–the physical deforming embodiment of European subservience by females–says more about the reality of motherhood, than all the weeping she has performed in other roles.
Costuming is primary to understanding the director’s interpretation of Caliban (Djimon Hounsou) whose appearance contrasts with the semi-translucent Ariel and the buttoned-up Conquistador garb of Alonso’s men. Taking a cue from the derogatory language with which he is described in Shakespeare’so riginal, Caliban is monstrous by virtue of being a melange of diverse elements–“Fish” with webbed fingers and scales; “Of the earth,” covered in mud, naked; a”Mooncalf,” with a circular patch of Vitiligo on his face.
When encountering natives, the white sailors fail to recognise their humanity. Caliban is played with roaring bluster by Hounsou, furious at Miranda’s romantic involvement with Prince Ferdinand. The scenes involving this would-be-usurping trio are hilarious and maintain a campy, frantic energy that propels the film forward. Everything is controlled by the sorceress in time, not space. The director used the location, the volcanic Hawaiian island of Lanai, that fields beach, rainforest, desert and a Mars-like terrain.
The CGI flourishes are limited to the ambiguous Ariel, darting around his master, translucent with eye-liner that is questionable. This 2010 screen adaptation feels liberating, and most refreshingly of all, helps those who are only feel comfortable when reading the text.
Taymor goes beyond whatever 400-odd years of literary criticism have to say about this play which has been created in her vision of paradise. Mirren finds grace that no Prospero could ever have sounded. The well-cast crew come up trumps with Chris Cooper playing with slickness, the role of Prospera’s hated brother, Antonio. Naturally downbeat David Strathaun makes an appropriately distraught King of Naples, convinced his son, Ferdinand has perished at sea. Russell Brand can only play himself as Trinculo.
This is outstanding filmmaking.
