The Royal Shakespeare Company this summer takes a break from the hot weather to present The Winter’s Tale. One of Shakespeare’s ‘problem’ plays - so called for avoiding the neat labels of Comedy or Tragedy - it feels particularly pertinent in a world of increasingly large and ungovernable egos. The play, under the direction of Yaël Farber, is powerful and grungily supernatural, in a collision of modern ideals, magic and myth. 

The play begins at the climax of King Leontes of Sicilia’s passion and jealousy. His brother, neighbouring King of Bohemia, Polixenes, has been a guest in the kingdom for long enough that Leontes suspects that his heavily pregnant wife Hermione is carrying Polixenes’ child. 

Bertie Carvel as Leontes brims with rage and anxious energy, in sharp contrast with the sturdy, self-assured performance of John Light as Polixenes, and Madeline Appiah, whose Queen Hermione is a picture of skilful diplomacy and defiance. Leontes’ jealous madness can’t be tempered, in spite of the efforts of his court who are desperate to make him see reason. Leontes calls for proof from the Oracle, but when the message still doesn’t align with his suspicions, he rejects the prophecy. That’s a surefire way to offend the Gods…

It's still winter, and an ominous full moon hangs over the actors’ heads. After the interval, the years, place and season shift. A figure who has so far been looming in dark corners introduces himself as Time, and brings the narrative sixteen years into the future. Variously a trickster, vagabond and post-punk poet, Time the Thief, played by Trevor Fox, borrows snatches of poetry and prose from throughout history, to unpick and advance the story. 

We leave Leontes to his penitence, and instead follow his abandoned daughter, Perdita (Leah Haile), who has been raised by simple shepherdfolk (Amelda Brown & Ryan Duval), but hasn’t shaken off her innate royal tendencies. She falls in love with Polixenes’ son, Florizel (Lewis Bowes), and their story has the potential to resolve their parents’ political ills - if only this web of long-buried secrets can be brought safely into the light. 

Farber’s production has a resonant female presence throughout  - from Hermione’s strength in the face of tragedy, to Perdita’s pagan power, and her adoptive mother’s status at the heart of their community. This is embodied in Paulina (Aïcha Kossoko), who wields social influence on those around her, and even plucks magic from the depths of myth to reverse a tragedy - once she is sure that Leontes is truly repentant.

The play is aesthetically quite gloomy, with barren staging and music that pulses on ominously, even in the more lighthearted moments. With undertones of animalistic ritual - no doubt partly inspired by the play’s most famous stage direction (“Exit, pursued by a bear”) - the play builds to its unapologetically magical, dazzling, and slightly sinister climax. It’s worth the wait.