Taymor’s Tempest a Swirling Sea of Visual Splendor
“These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air, and, like the baseless fabric of vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve and, like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with sleep.”
-Prospera
Ben Whishaw and Helen Mirren in The Tempest © Touchstone Pictures
Based on the classic play by William Shakespeare, director Julie Taymor’s The Tempest is arguably her richest, most fully realized and deeply passionate work since her last adaptation of one of the Bard’s immortal works, 1999’s Titus. While there are problems and inconsistencies galore, in the end I was completely captivated by this colorful and ravishing tale of romance and revenge, this robust and ribald adventure one I couldn’t help but enjoy.
The story of the sorceress Prospera (Helen Mirren), her ravishing daughter Miranda (Felicity Jones) and of the group of men who fate sends crashing onto her island prison, the play is a wild and wooly adventure filled with larger than life characters and over the top sequences of magic and mayhem, all of it anchored by a central human story of forgiveness and love. It has been adapted numerous times and in multiple ways (Forbidden Planet is based upon it, as are William Wellman’s Yellow Sky and Peter Greenaway’s Prospero’s Books), it’s themes as timeless and as universal as literature itself.
But it also one of Shakespeare’s most difficult works in many respects. One of its main characters, Ariel (here played by Ben Whishaw), is nothing more than ethereal vapor, a mischievous sprite that only Prospera (whom, it should probably be noted, is Prospero in the source material) can see. The play is fantastical, featuring moments and events so extreme it can boggle the mind. It veers from drama to romance to comedy to something in-between all three with what almost seems like recklessness, keeping things at such a frenzied and fevered pitch it’s easy for the viewer to suddenly find themselves lost.
Taymor revels in this excess, and much of the time this works well for her. The opening scenes of King Alonso’s (David Strathairn) ship meeting with destruction bringing him, his son Prince Ferdinand (Reeve Carney), trusted aide Gonzalo (a divine Tom Conti), treacherous brother Sebastian (Alan Cumming) and the insidious usurper of Prospera’s throne Duke Antonio (Chris Cooper) to the island are spectacular. Elliot Goldenthal’s (Public Enemies, Heat) music, Stuart Dryburgh’s (Amelia, The Painted Veil) cinematography, Françoise Bonnot’s (Across the Universe) editing and Mark Friedberg (State of Play) production design all work in glorious symmetry, the overwrought and painterly CG effects adding just the right touch bringing everything to a hyper-realistic level that fascinates.
Other times, however, the director’s constant push for more, more, more results in less, less, less. Most notably, a subplot concerning the monster Caliban (Djimon Hounsou) and the foppish fools Stephano (Alfred Molina) and Trinculo (Russell Brand) goes nowhere of interest. Never my favorite part of the play to begin with, the scenes featuring these three got under my skin in all of the wrong ways. I was annoyed at them, felt my dander rise every time they appeared, and although each actor plays his role well (especially Molina) it’s all so hyper and filled with irritating immoderation they collectively drove me up a wall.
I also felt that a lot of Shakespeare’s most subtle nuances were lost amidst the bombast. This is a film where the dial is definitely turned all the way up to 11, Taymor keeping things at such a fevered pitch it’s nearly impossible for the viewer to catch their breath. Everything is big, nothing is small, and because of that some of the more quietly emotional moments hiding within the play itself are frustratingly lost.
Please forgive me then for admitting I didn’t care. I was caught up in all of what Taymor created, found Prospera’s surreal world one I couldn’t begin to take my eyes off of. I wanted to discover what sights she would create for me next, what sounds she’d chosen for me to hear, and by the time Miranda and Ferdinand saw their love literally explode in celestial wonder I was in such awe I could feel my heart trying to leap right from out of underneath my chest.
It goes without saying that Mirren could do this sort of thing in her sleep. A classically trained British actor should be able to nail Shakespeare, and even though there’s been a gender swap that is exactly what she does. While I won’t say it is the best performance of her career or anything absurd like that, it is still a truly wonderful one that any viewer worth their salt won’t be able to get enough of. She tackles the language with relish, uttering some of the more treasured lines with a powerful panache that’s suitably marvelous. She is this movie’s driving force and as such she does not disappoint, and anyone who tries and say she does must have seen a very different motion picture than I.
While this version of The Tempest is not without its faults, Taymor’s visionary and artistic approach was still one that held me rapt at attention. Shakespeare’s play is a vibrant, full-bodied piece of romantic fantasy filled to the brim with violence, whimsy, magic, forgiveness and, most of all, love. It is as cinematic an approach to the Bard’s work as any I could have hoped for, and in the end I am most pleased to have had the opportunity to give it a couple hours of my time.
Film Rating: êêê (out of 4)
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