Erin Harrington reviews The Tempestuous: A Shrew’d New Comedy by Will Shakespeare and Penny Ashton, at Lyttelton Arts Factory, 9 August 2024.
Surely at some point we get to call Penny Ashton a national treasure? Her terrific new one-woman musical comedy The Tempestuous, co-written with one W. Shakespeare, certainly reiterates that she’s one of the most consistently excellent live performers in the country. Where previous literary solo shows have adapted the works of Dickens and Austen to great effect, here Ashton draws from the deep well offered by Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets to create a punchy ‘new’ work, complete with songs, all with a witty, joyful, feminist and often naughty bent.
In a vaguely Sicilian kingdom, the feisty princess Rosa is to be married off quick smart by the villainous King Guido. He was once her uncle, now her stepfather, having married Queen Carlotta before daddy was barely cold (hmmm, familiar). Rosa, an independent woman who knows her own heart, clearly doesn’t want to be married (#teamspinster), let alone to the King’s oily offsider Duke Olivani. She attempts to double-rort an already rigged competition that’s been set up to challenge the suitors who want her hand, and that bears curious resemblance to some well-known television game shows and competitions. Cue an abundance of delicious Shakespearean antics and complications – crossdressing, wordplay, sword fights, rude bits, fool’s japes, skullduggery, poison, prophecies, misunderstandings, storms, true love – as well as some more contemporary concerns. There’s no end of magic, too, care of cackling menopausal witches, charging up their powers with hot flushes, who watch over the action and bracket the show. The show’s keen commentary on gendered hypocrisies is braided through adeptly, in careful carefully balance with the dramatic coherency of the comic, faux-Elizabethan conceit.
Those familiar with Ashton’s other literary solo shows will have a sense of what to expect. Ashton wears a terrific colourful Elizabethan brocade gown, with corset, created by Elizabeth Whiting and Katie McGettigan. She skilfully flicks between 13 comic characters, each rendered clearly in voice and action. This is quite the undertaking once characters start disguising themselves. She’s a deft storyteller, and very good at finding ways to bring the audience with her (at some points, quite literally; kudos to some game ‘volunteers’). The script is absolutely dense with quotation and allusion, frequently repurposing Shakespeare’s best lines and greatest hits in a way that will make everyone in the audience, from neophyte to Bard stan, feel quite clever. Narrative and thematic beats are clear. This is really a masterclass in adaptation, building on the strengths of Promise and Promiscuity and Olive Copperbottom, consistently honouring the source material while updating the politics (and the dick jokes). It’s also extremely funny.
The songs are set to adaptations of notable works of classical music, jazz, and opera, with the help of musical arranger / composer Robbie Ellis. Some have a sparkling mock-Disney feel to them – Ariel on the rock maybe, Snow White’s ‘smile and a song’ but with extensive double entendre. I also appreciate getting a real sense of Ashton’s considerable vocal chops amongst the comedy accents. I do admit I was left hoping that we’d see at least a little of Rosa’s masc alter-ego’s costume, itself subject to its own excellent song, amongst some of the other comedy and character props.
The set, from Ashton and workshop director Ben Crowder, is simple and effective – a throne, a rug, a bench, two floral banners and a large wicker basket (that also gives us one of the best sight gags in the show). It’s clearly built for touring, but still feels spacious on the stage of Lyttelton Arts Factory’s black box theatre. Well apportioned lighting and sound effects make for a tight, well-designed package.
I really loved the Court Theatre’s production of Ashton’s large-scale and equally comic take on Sense and Sensibility last year; this show, also directed by Ashton, has just finished a sold-out season in Wellington. It offered such an expansive sense of joy, heart and playfulness – things that often feel in short supply – and The Tempestuous scratches that same deep itch. It asks, in part, what might women do to advance their own self-actualisation? Assembling a group of your best ladies and coming to this show while it’s in a town near you would be a pretty strong start.
The Tempestuous is currently touring – dates available here.
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