In June, Daniel Evans and Tamara Harvey will take over as artistic directors at the RSC. Let’s hope they give it a shaking. When I started reviewing for the Observer 25 years ago, the RSC was the default provider of Shakespeare productions. Since then the Globe has captured hearts, often with bolder approaches to the plays, as have stagings at the Almeida, Sheffield, the National, the Donmar and Bath’s Ustinov. Productions at Stratford are seldom less than proficient, but I can’t remember when I last left with my heart beating faster at an interpretation.
Meanwhile too much of the surrounding experience – which primes the audience for what they see on stage – is discouraging. Public transport to Stratford-upon-Avon is always a struggle for anyone who doesn’t live nearby, and it’s particularly ironic that it helps to have a car to get to The Tempest. The climate crisis is one in a blizzard of ideas that threaten to overwhelm Elizabeth Freestone’s production. Tom Piper’s bold, tumbled design with repurposed plastic, verdigris drawbridges and a glowing forest makes its own climate case. Still, I am not convinced that weather disruption propels the play as thoroughly as it does A Midsummer Night’s Dream. A jargon-heavy programme essay (“Prospero geo-engineers a storm experience”) left me more sceptical.
