The Tempest

Shakespeare's final play remains one of his most mysterious. Was it simply his personal farewell to the theatre? Was it a late recapitulation of some of his comedies with philosophical and magical additions? Is it just an old playwright telling a tall tale? Conall Morrison's new production does not answer these, or any of the other academic questions asked about this mystical work. It seems, at first sight of Monica Frawley's wondrous setting of a baroque-style theatre with gilt plaster and deep red curtains and upholstery apparently storm-wrecked on a sandy beach, to be trying to make theatre itself the central metaphor of the drama. How else to combine the magic of a desert island inhabited by spirits with the venal reality of Italian politics? But the spirits are too mannered and landlocked to be convincingly magical - and Olwen Fouere's Aeriel is no exception - while the various ship-wrecked Italians do not succeed in sustaining clearly the political narrative which brought them to the island in the first place.

Indeed, the whole production and most of the performances need to demonstrate a much greater concern for the rhythms of the author's language and the clarity and meaning of his words, as well as the thrust of his narrative, to make the evening more theatrically persuasive. Instead of just declaiming at each other, they should listen to the clarity of both meaning and emotion which Michael Colgan's Ferdinand brings to his several scenes and speeches. They should watch the precision of timing and movement which Mikel Murfi's Stephano, Donal O'Kelly's Trinculo and Lloyd Hutchinson's Caliban bring to their knockabout conspiracy. They should note the sinister presence which is palpable in Frank McCusker's Sebastian and Lalor Roddy's Antonio. And their director, whose production mechanisms are admirable, should allow them more time and space to develop and deepen their individual characterisations.

There is much that is strikingly good in the production, but an overall vision of the play does not come across with any consistency and, apart from the very effective knockabout scenes mentioned, the whole would benefit from more lightness of touch and laughter. Paul Keogan's lighting is superb, as are Joan O'Clery's motley costumes, while Conor Linehan's original music is highly atmospheric even when some of Shakespeare's words are lost in unclear singing. And towering over everything else is the wonder of Ms Frawley's setting - total theatrical magic.

Runs until January 29th. To book phone 01-8787222