The wildness of the elements is gloriously recreated right from the thrilling start of SBZ’s production of The Tempest, assisted by the sensation of being blown in by gusts of rain to lovely Hanover Hall. The last Tempest I reviewed was while we were being viciously lashed by Cyclone Gabrielle – today’s mere Strong Rain Warning is less distressing, more exhilarating, and the warm welcome within is pure delight, as we are assured the weather will be fine for our voyage, given origami ships and butterflies to flutter, glossy programmes, live music and cheery sailors urging us to sing along with jolly sea shanties, including Otago’s own Wellerman, as irresistibly foot-tapping as Cotton-Eyed Joe.

“We’ll be worn out before it starts,’ chuckles my companion, but the frolic is worth it, with peerless comedian Brent Caldwell, in outrageous punk-clown gear, wickedly ad-libbing, enticing the excited sell-out crowd to clap, stomp, chant and Mexican wave in wild party mode, a perfect lead-up to the magical tempest and consequent shipwreck on Prospero’s enchanted isle. 

SBZ Productions, honoured at the last Otepoti Dunedin Theatre Awards for their outstanding contribution to local theatre, have gained a reputation for innovative, daring work, uniting a wide range of experienced creative artists and many different theatre forms in every available space. This may be their most successful combination of play and venue ever, more apt even than Cherry Orchard in the Mayfair. The Tempest is a captivating, magical comedy with opportunities for music and dance, but this production ensures we wrestle with darker themes of power, colonisation, sin, punishment and redemption.

Seasoned director Blaise Barham is in love with theatre, playful and adventurous in his choices, evidently well able to inspire and enthuse the large company – over thirty! – all of whom are clearly invested in his vision, and on-board his ship. The scale of this production, combined with Barham’s thorough research and valid interpretation of The Tempest, has encouraged the company to offer a popular Schools’ Matinee, providing also an excellent educational study-pack, the like of which has not been seen since the lamented demise of the Fortune. 

A real coup of Barham’s was engaging award-winning designer Sofie Welvaert to create the costumes, which are simply breath-taking, from the cunning dip-dyed sleeves of the Lords to the fantastical spirits in emerald, sapphire and ruby, to the grandiose golden Goddess attire for Ceres (Meko Ng). Make-up, hair, lighting, and fog effects all enhance the gorgeous costumes, with too many in the fine technical team to name, ditto the lively Physical Theatre ensemble, though especial praise must be given to the young Musical Director, ridiculously talented Sam Meikle, who accompanies with both mysterious rippling piano and stirring drumbeat.

Hanover Hall provides terrific atmosphere, with its tangible spiritual heritage and glorious architecture, while modern technology allows brilliant lighting effects even against arched stained-glass windows. The traverse seating works a treat, sucking us right into the action, and if sometimes audibility is a problem, a spectacle play like The Tempest has compensatory potential, for Shakespeare’s last masterpiece was written when the Court Masque was all the rage in Jacobean theatre, interweaving art forms to create spectacular ostentatious display, and Barham has taken full advantage of this.

I’ve seen (and directed) many a Tempest, but I don’t think I have ever managed to hear the lines of the opening scene, because any director worth their salt naturally seizes the opportunity for marvellously noisy stage action and special effects. This is probably a good thing, as the language of the class battle between lords and sailors is very rude, to say the least – (“as leaky as an unstanched wench” indeed!!) while Gonzalo’s reasoning, that they are safe from drowning because the Boatswain’s horrible gallows-face means he is destined to be hung, hardly upholds the old lord’s saintly reputation.

No matter, the insults are apparent and we are so caught up in the splendid storm Barham, oops, magician Prospero/a has conjured, that words are redundant. Sarah Barham as Prospera, an impressive blue-haired figure in a fabulous high-collared gown, stands aloft in the nave of the refigured church, dominating the tempest created by the wild dancing of six quicksilver sprites, while white silk ribbons, the torn sails of the stricken vessel, stream from the gallery opposite the conjurer, and demented sailors (Zac Henry and Matthew Brennan cursing up a second storm!) stagger across the deck, frantically trying to force their noble passengers below deck. 

In the role of deposed Duke/Magician – now frequently and totally successfully played by women – Sarah Barham, grandly whipping up the storm to wreck her enemies on the magic isle, makes a majestic yet human Prospera. In what is a massive part with a cruel load of exposition, never doubt she can rise to declamatory heights when required, but I love details like her amused, cynical observation from the upper balcony, glass of wine in elegant hand, while her daughter Miranda succumbs to the charms of the first real man she has ever seen. 

As naïve Miranda, in a scalloped gown reminiscent of a white sea shell, Elizabeth Thomson is a totally convincing 15-year-old, while Jack Hanan, her shipwrecked Ferdinand, is the epitome of a noble prince, instantly identifiable, and their mutual infatuation consequently most entertaining.

In one of many juicy directing decisions, brilliantly backed by striking costume and make-up design, the role of magical spirit Ariel is shared between three elementals, Alexander Julian as Water, Sacha McConnon as Air, and Jack Hollis-Wilson as Fire, their stunning jewel-coloured costumes and headdresses shining against the subtle tie-dyed tones of the sprite-dancers. The Ariels provide much of the magic with their impressive singing, lyrical or rap, while they keep the performance space vividly alive along with the sea-sprites, even when the latter are frozen statues or zombies! 

Craig Storey as the monstrous Caliban, indigenous to the island but enslaved by Prospera, garbed in wondrously grotesque reptilian (or maybe amphibian?) style, has endowed his character with a Scottish accent – a nod to another dispossessed people, which splits our sympathies, given that he is the would-be rapist of innocent Miranda.

Brent Caldwell (jester Trinculo) and Aimee Freeman (butler Stephano) make a superb pairing as absurd clowns in wonderfully ridiculous outfits and fantastic circus make-up, Trinculo with spikey red-and-blue mohawk and huge ruff, drunkard Stephano in checked pants, tailcoat and tiny bowler. It is a particular pleasure to catch their every impeccably-projected word, and hence fully appreciate such Shakespearian gems as “Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows”, not to mention that charming revenge-porn ditty about poor Kate, who scorned sex with sailors, “yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch”!

Also a great comic double-act are the very funny Thomas Makinson and Chris Cook, who obviously adore bouncing off each other, physically and verbally, while making frivolous fun of Josh Black, a rather too youthful but dogged old Gonzalo. Their scheme to overthrow the King Alonso (a dignified Don Townsend), like Caliban’s clumsy revolt against Prospera, is likely to prove bootless given Prospera’s power, her “rough magic”. Besides, it’s a comedy. Even the drowned are safe, to “suffer a sea change into something rich and strange”.

Prospero’s epilogue (like Puck’s, Rosalind’s and all the rest) with its curiously Christian echo of “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us” entreats our applause thus: “As you from crimes would pardoned be, Let your indulgence set me free.”  Freedom exists only through divine and human mercy, the very theme Shakespeare has stressed and Barham demonstrated so compellingly throughout. Given the aroha that shines out of this show, it is no surprise the applause is generous and genuinely enthusiastic.

The nice couple beside me, Theresa and Wayne, confide that this is their first Shakespeare, as they are not exactly theatre buffs, but so enjoyed the Globe’s recent 39 Steps that they decided to give the SBZ’s Tempest a try. They have absolutely loved it, and are now happy converts to live theatre. Congratulations and thanks, Barham and co, for your (sing it!) “rollicking randy-dandy show-oh!”

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