In 1957, a wide-eyed, nine-year-old Andrew Lloyd Webber sat enchanted in the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, watching Peter Brook’s legendary production of Shakespeare’s The Tempest.

Starring the immeasurable John Gielgud as Prospero, this Tempest profoundly impacted the young Lloyd Webber. At the final performance, Gielgud famously broke Prospero’s staff and declared that Shakespeare would never again grace the stage of the Theatre Royal, as the West End’s oldest and largest theatre would be “lost to musicals.” For his part, Lloyd Webber, rising to the heights of theatre royalty, eventually purchased the Theatre Royal himself. With this, he made a personal vow: to prove Gielgud wrong and bring Shakespeare back to Drury Lane.

That promise is finally fulfilled. The Tempest returns to the magnificent Theatre Royal in a major new production by one of London’s most divisive and talked-about directors, Jamie Lloyd, starring legendary Hollywood sci-fi action heroine Sigourney Weaver in her London stage debut as the magician Prospero. This revival marks a full-circle moment for the theatre’s history, but can this production rise to the lofty heights of a Tempest that once inspired the little lord himself?

After dazzling theatregoers with a revolutionary reimagining of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Sunset Boulevard in 2023, Lloyd stumbled with his next venture: an ill-fated production of Romeo and Juliet starring Spider-Man himself, Tom Holland, which was widely dismissed as a misfire. Bravely, Lloyd has chosen to follow this production up with an equally starry Shakespearean revival in The Tempest, and Jamie Lloyd’s dark new production is as much a curio as Shakespeare’s play itself.

At its heart, The Tempest is a play about magic, betrayal, love, and forgiveness. Its narrative revolves around Prospero, an exiled magician who conjures a storm to shipwreck their enemies on a remote island. Featuring a medley of dukes, clowns, sprites, and shipwrecks, it has long been considered one of Shakespeare’s more divisive works—a strange tragicomedy that feels neither truly funny nor entirely tragic.

Facing the ambiguity of the text, Jamie Lloyd’s Tempest production marries his star to the interpretation, this time turning Shakespeare sci-fi. Just like his meta-take on faded-film star Norma Desmond—with middle-aged pop-princess Nicole Scherzinger in Sunset Boulevard—Lloyd once more reflects his leading lady’s legacy. This time, Sigourney Weaver, a notable sci-fi action-heroine, places this production firmly into Alien territory.

I don’t know for sure, but as a child of the ’80s, I suspect Jamie Lloyd might be a sci-fi superfan. He was once tapped to direct the mega-musical adaptation of Back to the Future (could you imagine THAT production today?); and later this year, he’s taking Bill and Ted (Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter) on another ‘Excellent Adventure’ to Broadway by way of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. If this is the case, Lloyd wears his sci-fi super-fandom heartily on his tattooed sleeve in this Tempest.

Alongside collaborator Soutra Gilmour, Lloyd places the action on a series of dark, rolling sand dunes that dominate Drury Lane’s vast stage. The design conjures imagery of the barren desert landscapes of Dune or Luke Skywalker’s home world of Tatooine in Star Wars. Jon Clark’s lighting design helps to heighten the otherworldly atmosphere—the black nothingness occasionally pierced by blinding lights that feel like UFO beams. Likewise, Max and Ben Ringham’s atmospheric, synth-laden underscore evokes vintage space fantasy.

In the starring role, Sigourney Weaver seems to have channelled Patrick Stewart’s Captain Picard in her portrayal of Prospero: soft-spoken but resolute, diplomatic but compassionate. Unfortunately, whilst the intention is there, it feels that these choices let the interpretation down.

Watching Weaver perform is a bit like listening to an AI—flat and unlifelike—making it difficult to connect to the emotion of the character. On the other hand, it strangely gives the whole production a kind of ASMR quality—although I’m not sure that’s what they were going for. When I joked to my friend that Weaver’s performance reminded me of Siri, he suggested that might have been the point. If so, it’s a bold and divisive choice.

Mason Alexander Park, for their part, fares much better as the sprite Ariel. From their dramatic descent from the fly tower of Drury Lane, in grizzled voice and ethereal movement, they are endlessly transfixing to watch. The performance is so arresting, it elevates the dynamic between Prospero and Ariel to become the emotional anchor of the production. The final moments between the pair are unexpectedly poignant—a true crescendo amidst the play’s chaos.

The rest is a mixed bag, unfortunately. Mara Huf’s Dune-inspired Miranda and James Phoon’s Marty McFly-esque Ferdinand make for a passable young love story but leave little lasting impact. Peter Forbes’ Caliban is probably more likely to be remembered for its baffling design than its nuance. Matthew Horne and Jason Barnett garner a few laughs as Trinculo and Stephano, but most of their scenes fall flat. Though no fault of the extremely capable actors, the scenes with the Dukes are an exercise in endurance. They drag and drag and drag.

Lloyd’s direction oscillates between brilliance and frustration. Whilst Lloyd has become known (and often revered) for his minimal approach to props and staging, here it often feels like a handicap. A washing line gag falls flat when there are no clothes to sell the joke. And likewise, the climax feels extraordinarily lazy. The ensemble are directed to spend fifteen mind-numbing minutes walking in circles around the orbit of Weaver’s Prospero, and it drags and drags and drags.

It’s even more frustrating because when it comes together—the wire work, the billowing fabrics, the fantastic underscore, the striking set design and spectacle—it sometimes borders on extraordinary. Yet these flashes of brilliance are undercut by muddled execution.

So, will this Tempest achieve the iconic status of its predecessor on Drury Lane? That’s unlikely. If it is, its critical reception has unfortunately ensured that this one will likely be remembered for all the wrong reasons.

But is it as bad as the reviews suggest? I don’t think so. There is something undeniably intriguing about Lloyd’s avant-garde approach. If nothing else, it’s an admirable vision of the play – ambitious but messy, minimalist yet epic. If you let it wash over you, much like the storm that begins the play, this Tempest is an experience worth pondering, if not wholly embracing.

The Tempest runs at Theatre Royal, Drury Lane until 1st February, 2025. Tickets are available here.

Photo Credits: Marc Brenner