The Tempest

Synopsis: In Julie Taymor's version of 'The Tempest,' the main character is now a woman named Prospera. Going back to the 16th or 17th century, women practicing the magical arts of alchemy were often convicted of witchcraft. In Taymor's version, Prospera is usurped by her brother and sent off with her four-year daughter on a ship. She ends up on an island; it's a tabula rasa: no society, so the mother figure becomes a father figure to Miranda. This leads to the power struggle and balance between Caliban and Prospera; a struggle not about brawn, but about intellect.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Fantasy
Director(s): Julie Taymor
Production: Touchstone Pictures/Miramax Films
  Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 2 wins & 3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
5.4
Metacritic:
43
Rotten Tomatoes:
31%
PG-13
Year:
2010
110 min
$277,515
Website
237 Views

Yare, yare!

Take in the topsail.

Tend to the master's whistle!

Bestir, bestir!

Good Boatswain, have care.

Where's the master?

Play the men.

I pray now, keep below.

Where is the master, bos'n?

Do you not hear him!?

You mar our labour,

keep your cabins,

you do assist the storm.

Nay, good, be patient.

When the sea is.

Good, yet remember

whom thou hast aboard.

None that I more love than myself.

Silence, trouble us not!

Out of our way, I say!

Yet again? What do you here?

Shall we give o'er, and drown?

Have you a mind to sink?

A pox o' your throat, you bawling,

blasphemous, incharitable dog!

Work you, then

Hang, cur, hang! You whoreson,

insolent noisemaker,

we are less afraid

to be drowned than thou art,

Off to sea again!

Lay her off!

Hell is empty and all the devils here!

If by your art, my dearest mother, you

have put the wild waters in this roar,

allay them...

O, I have suffered with those that

I saw suffer.

A brave vessel, who had, no doubt,

some noble creature in her,

dash'd all to pieces.

Poor souls, they perish'd!

Be collected

No more amazement,

tell thy piteous heart there's no

harm done.

- O, woe the day!

- No harm

I have done nothing but in care of thee,

of thee, my dear one, thee,

my daughter, who art ignorant

of what thou art,

nought knowing of whence I am,

nor that I am more better than Prospera,

master of a full poor cell

and thy no greater mother.

More to know did never meddle

with my thoughts

'Tis time I should inform thee farther.

So. Lie there, my art.

Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck,

which touch'd the very virtue

of compassion in thee.

I have with such provision in mine art so

safely ordered that there is no soul.

No, not so much perdition as an hair,

betid to any creature in the vessel,

which thou heard'st cry,

which thou saw'st sink.

Sit down, and be attentive

Canst thou remember a time

before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst, for then thou

wast not out three years old

Certainly, ma'am, I can

By what? By any other

house or person?

Of any thing the image tell me that hath

kept with thy remembrance

'Tis far off, and rather like a dream

Had I not Four or five women

once that tended me?

Thou hadst, and more, Miranda

Twelve year since, Miranda,

twelve year since

thy mother held the Dukedom

of Milan and its princely power

But are not you my mother?

The very same, who long ago was wife

to him who ruled Milan most liberally

who, with as tolerant a hand toward me

gave license to my long hours

in pursuit of hidden truths

of coiled powers contained within

some elements to harm, or heal

I brooked no interruption

but your squalling

for thou, child, art a princess born

O, Heavens!

What foul play had we, that we

came from thence?

Upon thy father's death, authority was

conferred as was his will to me alone

thereby awaking the ambitions of my

brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio

- Thou attendst not...

- Good Madam, I do!

I pray thee, mark me

that a brother should be so perfidious!

He whom I did charge to execute

express commands

as to the prudent

governing of fair Milan

instead undid, subverted

Dost thou attend me?

Ma'am, most heedfully!

Perverting my upstanding studies

now his slandering and bile-dipped

brush did paint a faithless portrait

His sister, a practicer of the black arts!

A demon, not a woman, nay a witch!

And he full-knowing others of

my sex have burned for no less!

The flames now fanned, my counselors

turned against me. Dost thou hear?

Your tale, ma'am, would cure deafness

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Julie Taymor

Julie Taymor (born December 15, 1952) is an American director of theater, opera and film. In 1997 her adaptation of The Lion King debuted, becoming the most successful stage musical of all time - 24 global productions have been seen by more than 90 million people. Having played over 100 cities in 19 countries, The Lion King’s worldwide gross exceeds that of any entertainment title in box office history. It received an astounding 11 Tony Award nominations, earning Taymor Best Director and Costume Designer, and was honored more than 70 major arts awards worldwide. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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