This island

Cal Shakes artfully pierces the wise eye of The Tempest.

By Robert Avila

GOING HOME AGAIN: Easier said than done, as anyone knows who's tried it. Just why that should be the case proves worth pondering, as family, forgiveness, and foul weather all work their respective magic in California Shakespeare Theater's production of Shakespeare's Tempest.

Cal Shakes brings its season to a graceful close with director Lillian Groag's artful and thoroughly enjoyable staging of a play (usually assumed to be Shakespeare's last solo effort) that defies neat categorization. Despite often being lumped in as one of the "romances," its ambiguous mixing of tragedy, comedy, Elizabethan masque, and the fantastical setting of a supernatural island all contribute to a thematic and metaphorical depth that traditionally inspires the widest range of interpretations. Here Groag remains sensitive to the play's well-worked themes of New World imperialism, for example, or the Bard's personal farewell-to-theater subtext, while concentrating attention on the complicated (if ostensibly happily ended) tale of redemption and familial reconciliation.

Prospero (Anthony Fusco), the rightful duke of Milan, has turned his considerable learning in the magic arts to the absolute control of the natural and supernatural forces on the island where he and daughter Miranda (Elizabeth Schmidt) were exiled years ago by Prospero's usurping brother, Antonio (Andy Murray). Now, through his agent, Ariel (Mhari Sandoval), an "airy spirit," Prospero has raised a ship-smashing storm that brings those who once schemed against him to the island as wandering castaways. Prospero's cursing and resentful half-human slave, Caliban (Triney Sandoval), meanwhile, plots his master's overthrow with Stephano (Ron Campbell) and Trinculo (Jud Williford), two hilariously drunken buffoons from the shipwrecked entourage of King Alfonso (Chris Ayles) whom Caliban, in the throes of his first alcohol buzz, takes for gods.

But instead of vengeance, Prospero chooses forgiveness. A key to the redemptive outcome he plans is the marriage of Miranda to King Alfonso's son, Ferdinand (Asa Taccone), whom his father believes drowned. There's more embellishment to the situation, but the plot doesn't go much further. In fact, given Prospero's firm mastery of his island realm, there's little reason to believe he won't get his way. The interest of the play derives less from any suspense than from the way Shakespeare's remarkably human characters play out the themes of corruption versus virtue, civilization versus savagery, and reality versus illusion.

A first-rate cast brings all these themes and much more – including an alternately sly and rollicking comic energy – to a well-paced and visually striking production. As far as the latter goes, Annie Smart's scenic design and Meg Neville's costumes tend to use a few choice elements to bold effect, giving everything from the opening storm sequence to the somewhat mischievous activities of the island spirits (as they invisibly shadow the island's human guests), a colorful and evocative simplicity somewhat reminiscent of Cirque du Soleil's playfully stylized environments. Adding to the pixie dust and reverie are Russell Champa's enchanting lighting design and the eerie echoes of Ariel's voice and the infectious musical weave of popular and classical strains produced by sound designer Jake Rodriguez.

But as Prospero, victorious, relinquishes his own magical power in return for his rightful station in Milan, Shakespeare's noble magus remains an ambivalent character. In stark contrast to the vividness of the enchanted isle, with its enveloping magic and music, Prospero remains somewhat shadowy and aloof, as if seen only from a distance. If half-human Caliban is supposedly a semi-sea monster, then Prospero is at least something of a cold fish, an insular figure and an island in his own island realm. In a production that benefits from savvy casting throughout, Fusco's gift for eliciting sympathetic interest by way of a certain impenetrable reserve makes him an especially apt choice for Prospero. The character's stiff and chilly reconciling with the silent (and presumably unrepentant) Antonio, even as Caliban makes a pitiful filial pledge to mend his wicked ways, adds to the return home a rich irony, even tension, which seems to acknowledge the presence of corruption and evil in the best of worlds. It's the wisdom of much more than paternal experience talking when Miranda's enthusiastic embrace of her newfound fellow humans, "O brave new world, that has such people in it!," is answered by her father's reply, " 'Tis new to thee." 'The Tempest' runs through Oct. 23. Tues.-Thurs., 7:30 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m. (also Oct. 22, 2 p.m.); Sun., 4 p.m., Bruns Memorial Ampitheater, 100 Gateway, Orinda. $10-$55. (510) 548-9666, www.calshakes.org.