I'd never imagined that the drunken butler Stephano and foolish jester Trinculo could seem not just the funniest but also the most significant characters in The Tempest.
Yet in this Russian production, lucidly directed by Declan Donnellan of Cheek by Jowl, their presence feels paramount.
These clumsy colonists are at the heart of an interpretation that is wild, witty and watery - sloshing rain is a recurrent motif, and Nick Ormerod's set is bathed in projections of the foaming sea. It's also a deeply Russian take on the play: for example, instead of the masque honouring the betrothal of Miranda and Ferdinand, there's a parody of a Soviet propaganda film about farming. But most importantly it's both funny and fresh, shedding unexpected light on Shakespeare's mysterious island romance.
Large cuts have been made, and there are surtitles, so the textures of Shakespeare's language - in this late work dreamy yet disciplined - are lost. Still, as a result the play seems intensely dramatic rather than hauntingly poetic.
The performances are sparky. Besides Sergey Koleshnya's burly Stephano, Ilya Iliin's camp Trinculo and Alexander Feklistov's brutish Caliban, Igor Yasulovich is a crotchety, sickly Prospero, and Anya Khalilulina a moving, distinctly animal Miranda.
This isn't a gorgeous or cerebral account of The Tempest but it's an innovative one, which will renew perceptions of one of Shakespeare's most-performed works, not least in suggesting that the prospect of freedom (which the characters face at the end) can be unsettling rather than straightforwardly liberating.
Until April 16. (020 7638 8891, barbican.org.uk)
The Tempest
Barbican Centre
Silk Street, Barbican, EC2Y 8DS
