Rated 🍯🍯🍯
The bee buzzed into the Theatre Royal Drury Lane with cautious optimism, lured by Sigourney Weaver’s much-anticipated Prospero and Jamie Lloyd’s minimalist reputation. It left unsure whether it had witnessed a storm or merely the calm before one. The Tempest in this incarnation was less Shakespearean tempestuousness, more spectral murmur. And yet, it lingered like sea mist, provoking curiosity as much as it did frustration.
A Prospero Without Winds
Sigourney Weaver’s Prospero was, well, underwhelming. Critics haven’t held back in their condemnation, accusing her of monotony and lethargy. The bee wouldn’t argue—but nor would it join the mob just yet. Weaver’s slowness, her apparent flatness, created a mystical aura that felt deliberate. Her movement across the stage was measured, almost ritualistic, like a sorcerer conserving her energy for some great unseen purpose. Her voice, though largely monotonous, carried a hypnotic quality, a spellbinding monotony that, for the first act, seemed to work in her favor.
But by the middle of the play, the spell began to falter. There’s a thin line between mysticism and tedium, and Weaver often teetered precariously on its edge. What initially felt like calculated restraint began to veer toward unintentional disengagement. Her Prospero was not the commanding force driving the narrative, but more a distant, passive figure—a strange choice for a character who wields ultimate control over the island. Still, one can’t help but wonder: would a more dynamic Prospero have shattered the play’s dreamlike quality? Perhaps the very strangeness of this Prospero was its saving grace.
A Stage Full of Ghosts
Jamie Lloyd’s minimalist vision for The Tempest brought moments of brilliance—and awkwardness. The set was barren, starkly lit, and drenched in soundscapes that evoked the desolation of Prospero’s island. But Lloyd’s choice to leave characters lingering onstage, even when not actively involved in the scene, was a gamble that didn’t always pay off.
At times, this staging decision worked wonders, amplifying the play’s otherworldliness. Prospero, seated motionless like a statue, seemed more specter than man. It was eerie and disquieting, underscoring the isolation of the island and its inhabitants. But at other times, this choice bordered on distracting. When half the cast is loitering about, visibly detached from the scene at hand, the audience’s attention is pulled in unintended directions. The awkwardness of these still-life moments, while perhaps deliberate, wasn’t always effective.
The Tension of Awkwardness
This production thrived—or floundered—on its tension between deliberate strangeness and accidental discomfort. The bee often found itself questioning whether a moment’s awkwardness was an intentional artistic choice or an unfortunate misstep. Weaver’s lethargic Prospero, the characters frozen onstage, the barren set: all contributed to an air of alienation and mysticism. But they also invited boredom and distraction. Was that the point? Perhaps. Did it always work? Absolutely not.
If this Tempest was uneven, it was also unforgettable. The critical response to The Tempest at Theatre Royal Drury Lane has been as mixed as the production itself. Sigourney Weaver’s Prospero has largely been met with disappointment, described by critics as “wooden” and “flat,” though some argue her monotony contributed to the play’s mysticism (The Times). Director Jamie Lloyd’s minimalist aesthetic has earned praise for its stark visuals and atmospheric soundscapes, but his decision to keep characters on stage when not involved in scenes has drawn criticism for being more distracting than effective (Camden New Journal). While some theatergoers found themselves enchanted by its alien, haunting qualities, others lamented a lack of emotional resonance, leaving them adrift in a sea of abstraction (Time Out).
As for your faithful bee, it thought Sigourney Weaver may not have commanded the winds, but her Prospero left an indelible impression nonetheless. Jamie Lloyd’s direction walked a tightrope between ethereal brilliance and overcalculated awkwardness. In the end, the bee found itself drawn to the strange discomfort of it all, even as it occasionally checked the time.
Three stars!
Watched January 2025 at Theatre Royal Drury Lane, London. The Tempest runs through 1 February 2025.
A note on tickets: Rush tickets are available on TodayTix for £29.50 pp for the day's performance. This is the best way to get great seats at a bargain price. There is also a lottery that you can enter for a chance to purchase up to two tickets for £29.50 each, with draws released at midday every Friday for the following week of performances. Finally, £25 tickets are available for those under 30, key workers and those receiving government benefits, see the official site for further information.
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