Here we are, at the (near) end of Shakespeare’s direct influence on Elizabethan theatre. And it’s where hell empties itself because “all the devils are here.” That was Prince Ferdinand’s cry into the storm, as quoted by Ariel, who, like El Niño, was whipping up all the hell under Prospero’s orders. Westworld's other favorite quotes come from Romeo & Juliet, Hamlet, and King Lear, BTW. Because that show is an erudite mindfuck.
The Tempest is traditionally viewed as Shakespeare’s “farewell” to the stage, as it coincides with his moving back to Stratford full time and only co-writing (not directing or acting in) a few more plays with John Fletcher. Prospero’s speeches about how “our revels now are ended” and that he will “drown my book” are clues that many believe point to the poet contemplating his artistry and how retirement will affect his sense of purpose in the world. It’s tantalizing to read between the lines here, but the man was famous for his opaque opinions, at least as far as expression through play format. His characters benefitted from his uncanny ability to present multiple sides of a subject or situation, so it’s difficult to know his true mind. His poems are another story, and I’m excited to dive into that drama soon.
Shakespeare is never more original in his imagination than in The Tempest and most scholars are hard-pressed to find any source material for his story other than some exploration-age accounts of brave world travelers on the high seas. He has this particular interest in men whose heads grow below their shoulders (or in their breasts) because it gets mentioned again (remember the Anthropophagi in Othello?) in this play. Wouldn’t it be interesting if Caliban was meant to be one of those guys?
I know it’s not just me--people really love adapting The Tempest in the wildest ways possible. But I don’t discourage it or actively loathe it the way Harold Bloom does. He hates hates that people interpret this play as a commentary on European colonialism, race, social norms, etc. When every other play is fair game for re-interpretation, why except this one, dude? What’s the fun in that, buddy? He thinks people totally miss the point of this play’s text whenever they inject socio-political stances into it, but FFS what is the point of arguing that Shakespeare is timeless if you’re going to accuse artists of getting a D in English Lit every time they dare to have a hot take? Go drink sack with Falstaff, you massive dingus.
Sidenote: I agree with Bloom on a lot of things, don’t get me wrong. I’m very much on board with the “Shakespeare Invented the Human” thesis of his, but if you had told me I’d tend to be more consistently enchanted by old man Harold Goddard’s 1940s-era opinions than Bloom’s, I’d have laughed. I’ve never seen someone use so many exclamation points in Shakespearean criticism before. The guy’s whimsical notions are endearing as hell, and sometimes surprisingly provocative for his age. Good on you, granddad.
ACT I
A hapless ship is being tossed at sea, and the Boatswain and Ship Master are working desperately not to sink. Just then, the King of Naples (Alonso), his brother (Sebastian), the Duke of Milan (Antonio) and Alonso's son (Ferdinand) come on deck to see what's going on. The Boatswain orders them to "keep their cabins" and go back belowdecks because they will only "assist the storm" by getting in the way. An old councillor (Gonzalo) tries to convince them to stay below, but Sebastian and Antonio argue with the Boatswain just as other Mariners yell out that the ship is sinking and they're all going to drown.
On a nearby island, Miranda, the daughter of the sorcerer Prospero, begs him to help the poor souls on the ship they see:
If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. 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. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
The fraughting souls within her.
Prospero says she can rest easy, for no harm was done to the men onboard. He also says that it is time she learned who they truly are, other than just father and daughter marooned on an island. He recalls that she was only three years old when they arrived on the island, so she couldn't possibly remember who they were beforehand. She says she remembers that she had maidens who waited upon her. He says that yes, that's true, because twelve years ago, he was the Duke of Milan and her mother a "piece of virtue" (we should use "virtue" instead of "ass" from now on, folks). Prospero and Miranda were both blessed and cursed by coming to the island. Before, he allowed Antonio to take over governing duties while he went to his studies, and Antonio was corrupt as hell and fancied himself the real Duke, so he convinced the King of Naples to make him Duke and oust Prospero with an army and Prospero barely escaped with Miranda in tow. Prospero was sent out on a busted-ass boat to die. But somehow Gonzalo gave them a bunch of supplies and books and clothes and fineries so they'd have a fighting chance. Miranda is ever so thankful for all this new information, but she has to ask: why raise the storm just now? Because his enemies were by fortune brought to the island and an "auspicious star" is to be thanked for such luck. That's why, girl.
Prospero uses his powers to lull Miranda to sleep, then summons Ariel, a spirit that serves him, who is eager to please. Prospero asks if he did his task on the ship and Ariel assures him he used all his spirit powers to toss that ship as if he were angry Neptune himself. It was so bad that Ferdinand screamed "Hell is empty and all the devils are here!" But Ariel made sure everyone was safe (including the ship, which was led to a harbour), and the individuals were dispersed about the isle as Prospero requested. Prospero praises Ariel and Ariel takes this moment to remind his master of what he promised: to free him eventually. Prospero reminds him that he kindly rescued him from inside a tree, where the evil witch Sycorax left him entombed after she was banished to the island to bear a monstrous child (Caliban) who is so "hag-born" that he is only fit to do physical labor for Prospero. Ariel thanks Prospero again for freeing him, and Prospero says he'll knot him up in an oak (much stronger than pine) again if he gives him any more lip. He adds that if Ariel just does his chores a few more days he'll discharge him. Ariel is once again happy to do service and Prospero tells him to pretend to be a sea-nymph.
Prospero wakes his daughter so they can visit Caliban. Miranda is no fan, even though he does all the dirty and necessary chores to make them comfortable on the island. Ariel flies off to spook the shipwrecked folks while Caliban appears, cursing his captors for taking the island from him and his mother. He regrets ever showing Prospero all the secrets of the island. Prospero says he treated him well for an inhuman thing, and chides him for trying to rape Miranda that one time. Miranda adds that she pitied him once and helped him learn to speak and he deserves to be a slave for the crime of attacking her. Caliban acknowledges that learning was good for him:
You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!
Prospero sends him to get more wood or he'll wrack him with cramps and aches. Caliban leaves just as Ariel, invisible, lures Ferdinand toward them with a song:
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
Ferdinand thinks this means his father has drowned, and he follows the song in the air until Miranda spots him, and she is struck with wonderment (and hormones) at the sight. Prospero says he is one of the shipwrecked, not a spirit. She says "I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble." Ferdinand sees her and reacts similarly, mistaking her for a goddess. Prospero asides that he will set Ariel free for bringing this boy to fall in love with Miranda. She says "This is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for." Ferdinand says that if she's a virgin, he'll make her Queen of Naples. Well, thank you very much, young man. Prospero is glad of this progress, but he can't let their courtship be too easy, so he says Ferdinand is his prisoner and must do slave work for him. the kids both protest, but Prospero's charms are too powerful and the boy does as he's told.
ACT II
On an undisclosed random part of the island, we find Gonzalo trying to tell his party of nobles that things could be worse:
Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
To this, Alonso merely says "Prithee peace" because he's an asshole, and his bro, Sebastian, adds "He receives comfort like cold porridge." They stand around whinging about the island's lack of beauty while Gonzalo insists the place isn't so bad. He mentions that he thinks even their garments are as fresh as the moment they were at the marriage of Alonso's daughter Claribel to the "African" in Tunis. Alonso gets weary of the conversation and curses the marriage because if it weren't for the trip, they never would have been shipwrecked and his son wouldn't be lost to the storm. Francisco says Ferdinand may be fine because he saw him swimming quite strongly to shore. Sebastian doubles down on Alonso's grief and Gonzalo tells him he is ungentle to "rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster." Gonzalo then imagines a utopia on the island and how he would rule it:
All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
Alonso tells him to actually shut the fuck up already. Just then, Ariel begins singing out of sight and everyone falls asleep except Sebastian and Antonio, who promise to keep watch while everyone else naps. They wonder why the climate of the island does not affect them at all. Soon Antonio begins to persuade Sebastian it's a great idea to kill the King so he can ascend the throne, since Ferdinand is as good as dead and Claribel is so far away she could never become queen of Naples. Antonio famously says "Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge." Sebastian barely protests, and Antonio adds "what a sleep were this For your advancement!" Antonio says look at me, I supplanted my bro, and I'm doing great! Sebastian says he'll give it a go and they take out their swords, preparing to stab Alonso, but Ariel comes back and wakes Gonzalo with a warning about conspiracy. He then wakes the King and Antonio and Sebastian sheepishly say they only drew their swords because they thought they heard the bellowing of bulls and a whole herd of lions. Alonso says they should leave the area and keep looking for Ferdinand while Ariel promises to tell his master what happened.
Elsewhere, Caliban is busy hauling wood for Prospero, all the while cursing his name:
All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin--shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Caliban is quite articulate with his cursing verse for such a "savage monster."
When he spots Trinculo, he at first believes him to be a spirit sent by Prospero to torment him, so he hides. Trinculo comes, speaking in mere prose about how he has no idea where to go if it starts storming again. He haphazardly discovers Caliban to not be a stinky fish but another creature of some kind. He figures he might make him some money because in England, people pay good coin to see such things:
there would this monster make a
man; any strange beast there makes a man:
when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame
beggar, they will lazy out ten to see a dead
Indian.
Upon hearing thunder, he decides to climb under a nearby cloak to shelter from the storm. Stephano comes, drunk as they come, singing a stupid song to himself. He stumbles upon Caliban, who begs not to be hurt. Stephano, seeing four legs sticking out from the cloak, thinks this is some new creature. He figures if he can give it wine and keep it calm, he can drag it home and make some cash. Trinculo speaks and uncovers to see Stephano and they're glad to see each other alive. Caliban believes them to be sprites or gods, and under influence of the drink, praises Stephano as his new master. Stephano decides to ride this wave as long as he can and gives Caliban more "celestial liquor" (oh, there's a cocktail name for you). Having rode an entire barrel of wine to the shore, Stephano admits he has plenty more where that came from. Trinculo can't believe their luck at finding such a "credulous monster" after surviving the wreck. Caliban promises to show them all the secrets of the island and leave Prospero's service forever. Stephano fancies himself king of the island at this point, and they all prance away to go find more wine.
ACT III
Ferdinand is busy hauling logs and waxing poetic:
There be some sports are painful, and their labour
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead
And makes my labours pleasures:
As he works, Prospero watches from afar, unseen, but Miranda sneaks closer. She begs him to rest while her father is not around. She even offers to bear the logs a bit but he says he'd rather break his back than let her do an lick of work. He finally asks her name and says that she contains more virtues than all the women he's ever met before... put together! Miranda admits that she has never seen any other woman or man but she wouldn't have anyone else but him as companion (how convenient for Ferdinand). They exchange flirtatious compliments and Prospero is glad to hear it:
Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between 'em!
They speak wedding vows and Miranda gives him her hand, "with my heart in't." Prospero is joyful, but he knows there's more work to be done.
Elsewhere, the triumvirate of drunkenness are talking about getting Caliban properly snockered on sack. Caliban says he will lick Stephano's shoe and be his servant and Trinculo makes fun of him, but Stephano says his subject shouldn't be treated with such disrespect. Ariel is floating about, ready to make mischief. He throws his voice several times to sound like Trinculo, accusing Caliban of lying and making both him and Stephano increasingly angry. Caliban says that the island was taken from him by sorcery and he wants revenge. He adds that they must take Prospero's books first, for that's where he get all his power. Stephano promises they shall kill Caliban's old master and he will take his daughter as his queen so Trinculo and Caliban will be viceroys. Ariel plays a tune on a pipe and they freak out. Caliban says there's nothing to fear, and recites his most famous of speeches:
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
Caliban, the "savage" is more sophisticated than first thought, for he appreciates music and can express as much so lovingly that these words were put in Sir Kenneth Branagh's mouth for the London 2012 Olympic opening ceremony. Because Danny Boyle is wonderfully weird. And Sir Ken is wonderful.
Stephano dryly says "This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing" (and chicks for free). They decide to follow Ariel's noise, as he is on his way to warn Prospero about this plot these fools have hatched.
We return to the royal party, who are damn near exhausted from walking all day. Gonzalo complains and Alonso agrees they must sit for a while, and he despairs that his son is drowned. Antonio and Sebastian whisper to each other that they're glad the King thinks Ferdinand dead. They promise to attempt their MURTHER again that night as everyone sleeps. Some sweet music begins to play out of nowhere and a banquet of lush viands appears. They all stand aghast, saying that no one will ever believe them when they get back home and tell them about this crazy island. Sebastian says they should just tuck in, since they're starving, but Alonso says no. Ariel makes thunder and lightning precede him as he appears as a terrifying harpy. They draw their swords out of total fear and Ariel laughs and puts a spell on them so they can't lift them, then he throws their sins in their faces:
But remember--
For that's my business to you--that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:
Lingering perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from--
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads--is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
Prospero praises Ariel for his harpy act and heads off to find Ferdinand. Alonso decides to search for Ferdinand despite the likelihood of his death, and one by one the others follow him.
ACT IV
Back at Prospero's (what I imagine to be a bitchin') pad, he gives Ferdinand and Miranda a bit of an apology for being a bastard lately, but Ferdinand passed the test so Prospero offers "a third of mine own life," aka Miranda, in marriage. But he better not "break her virgin knot" before they have a party, or else the union will be barren and sour. Ferdinand says he will never "melt Mine honor into lust." Oh he's a keeper. Prospero leaves them to chill while he orders Ariel to bring the royal party to his place so more magic can be done.
Music plays and Iris (Juno's messenger) appears to call upon Juno with some flowery language. Juno herself (Jupiter's wife) descends, and Ceres (goddess of agriculture) comes as well so they all can bless the new couple:
Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings upon you.
Earth's increase, foison plenty,
Barns and garners never empty,
Vines and clustering bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres' blessing so is on you.
Juno herself blessing your wedding... what, you couldn't book Beyonce?
Iris calls upon the Naiades to dance for them until Prospero sends them away suddenly, saying "I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life." Miranda tells Ferdinand she has never seen her father roused up in such a passion before. Prospero launches into his most famous speech:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled:
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.
Prospero sends the kids away and Ariel comes back to tell him that Caliban and his dudes are so blitzed that it was all too easy to lead them through briers and thorns to slow their approach. They hide as the three finally arrive, stumbling with drink, and marvel at the riches of wardrobe hanging about the place. They stupidly dress themselves up and joke around, but Caliban chides them, for they must conduct the MURTHER. But Stephano and Trinculo would rather use their sticky fingers to steal shit. Just then, Prospero and Ariel join forces to set some hunting dogs on them and they skedaddle as fast as they can. Prospero tells Ariel he only has a little more work to do before he frees him.
ACT V
Prospero enters in his most splendiferous and drag-queen-worthy MAGIC ROBES with Ariel at his side and announces:
Now does my project gather to a head:
My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time
Goes upright with his carriage.
He asks Ariel what's up with the rest of the shipwrecked folks and Ariel admits that he feels bad for them and "That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender." To which, Prospero replies "The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance" and he decides to release them from his spell.
Prospero draws a circle on the ground with his fabulous staff and starts in with some spells that would make any Wiccan or Renn Faire attendee weep with ecstasy:
Noooo don't drown your book, dude! Give it to me!
"Midnight Mushrumps" is great. It's borderline a band name and a wicked side effect of taking one of Stephen Colbert's "Vaxo-" drugs.
Ariel brings in all the folks and Prospero suspends the spell and speaks to Gonzalo first, so that he can thank him for his past kindness. Then he tells Alonso and Sebastian that they treated him unfairly, but he forgives them. Ariel helps Prospero dress in his Milanese attire and brings his rapier. Ariel sings about what he shall do the moment he is freed:
He's so precious. Just wants to retire in peace under a flower's petals. Good for you, buddy.
Prospero says he'll miss his airy friend and sets him free. Gonzalo is stunned. Prospero presents himself as the Duke of Milan and Alonso isn't sure if this is real or another spell. Prospero says he forgives all of them, even his dumbass brother. Alonso demands to know how all this came about and mentions his lost son. Prospero says he lost his daughter in the Tempest and that he was responsible for the storm that brought them to the island. He leads them to his house and pulls back a curtain and BEHOLD there's Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess together. Ferdinand is surprised to see his father and Alonso thinks Miranda is a goddess and Miranda thinks everything is amazing:
Prospero's famous response: "'Tis new to thee."
Alonso is amazed and totally OK with this hasty marriage. Ariel brings in the Boatswain and the Master of the ship to say that the boat is fine and everyone's fine. Ariel points out to Prospero that he did all this extra stuff after he was already free and Prospero is tickled. Alonso is still not over the strangeness of the whole situation and Prospero tells him not to worry his pretty little head. Ariel goes to set Caliban and his confederates free as well. Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban enter, all in a reveling spirit, dressed in stolen apparel. It takes a minute for the Royals to recognize these tipsy twats and they wonder where they got the liquor. Prospero orders Caliban to go to his room and Caliban complies:
Propsero invites everyone to stay over the night so he can tell his story and discuss the marriage and plans for moving back to Milan. Prospero gives a moving Epilogue at the end:
Shakespeare... bruh. Not a dry eye in the house. Good thing you got this one out of the way before The Globe burned down.
Yay movie time again! We have some unforgettable entires to this week's little film festival.
Derek Jarman’s contribution to Shakespearean film history is his 1979 film The Tempest, which gleefully takes up the challenge to adapt the Bard to modern subcultural sensibilities, in this case, everything queer AF. He subverts nearly everything about the play, which is already a trip, and John Waters himself couldn’t have done a better job of it. Well, maybe he could have, but I bet he was a fan of this one for sure. Prospero is a young man, Miranda is a punky dirty sprite, Caliban is a white drag performer, the “island” appears to be a derelict Victorian manse and all the beach scenes are most recognizably filmed in and around Bamburgh Castle (everybody loves filming shit there and I totally understand why because I love that place it’s so awesome). The film's most memorable moments include the Sycorax’s nude cameo involving an also nude Caliban and poor Ariel in chains, Miranda’s artfully bedraggled Vivienne Westwood aesthetic, and the happy-go-lucky revels at the end with all the lovely dancing sailor boys and an ironic rendition of “Stormy Weather” sung by Elizabeth Welch in a golden “goddess” costume. If that’s not twisted enough for you, I have something even better.
Peter Greenaway brings forth his 1991 film Prospero’s Books with an eye toward the truly iconic rhapsody of imagery from the play and plenty of unforgettably avante-garde production design. It’s like stepping into a live re-enactment of Hieronymous Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” and it’s an absolute wonder to behold. John Gielgud is cast as the all-encompassing magician, who recites bits of every character’s lines throughout, even holding conversations between people on his own, because he's THAT good. The sets are dripping with classical art festoonery and the costumes (or complete lack thereof much of the time) define what it is to be a beautifully raw (but not vulgar) part of unapologetic humanity as everyone dances and swims and flies across the screen. I experienced it last year when it was streaming on Criterion Channel, and good luck seeing it again until it perhaps returns to streaming. Criterion should really be selling a HD edition of this one. Michael Nyman provides the lush score that feels like golden swirls of Rococco sculpture brought to aural life. It’s a triumph and everyone should see it and be as confused as possible.
Julie Taymor continues the tradition of exotic, mind-bending motion picture interpretations of The Tempest in her 2010 film. It stars the badass Dame Helen Mirren as “Prospera” (I think it’s still spelled with an “o” but some traditional pronunciations of “Prospero” lean toward “Pros-pruh” and the “a” sound comes out anyway with an RP English accent) and who doesn’t love a sorceress in Shakespeare? The island in this case is Hawaiian but it’s filmed to look like it could be on another planet. It’s populated by all the notable actors you could want, including Djimon Hounsou as a motley-skinned Caliban, Alan Cumming as Sebastian, and the impish Ben Whishaw as Ariel, which is just a stroke of genius piece of casting (anytime anyone casts Ben Whishaw in something, I’m going to say it’s genius, but seriously, this is actual perfection regardless of my flagrant bias). It's hit or miss with Taymor, but I enjoyed this one almost as much as Titus. I like what she does with Shakespeare. It's fresh and bold and doesn't always come off, but it's always original.
Forbidden Planet (1956) is an easy favorite of the bunch, though. If there’s any better proof that contemporizing (and futurizing!) Shakespeare can totally work, it’s this classic sci-fi masterpiece. It’s an ALL COLOR CINEMASCOPE MGM production that will give you all the high-quality camp escapism you want when you’re normally fighting a constant low-level undercurrent of nerves about an A-bomb leveling your hometown every day. Get your toochis into an air-conditioned theatre and watch a mad scientist and his sexy daughter get waited upon by their servant robot and deal with attacks from strange alien creatures after some hapless spaceship crewmen visit your lonely planet.
It's a loose adaptation, but I'll take it. Morbius is a recluse scientist whose gorgeous daughter Altaira is as naive as humanly possible, having never met any other humans before. Morbius warns the ship’s commander (a very young Leslie Nielsen) not to land due to the strange dangers on the planet, but they land anyway and find a “brave new world” that is home to a bizarre ultra-intelligent race that Morbius is studying and exploiting. It's a fun romp with a cattywampus Robby the Robot anyway, who is clearly the genderless Ariel; one of the ship’s crewmen wonders aloud if Robby is a male or female and Robby says it is irrelevant. The robot turns out to be a clever haute couture dressmaker and even a whiskey still, which obviously makes it very popular, gender be damned. The special effects are impressive for 1956 and are actually better than the ones in Star Trek which airs a decade later. A total classic for any movie fan.
Alright so that's a wrap for this week. I'm sad that the next few plays are only half-Shakespeare, but as soon as they're done, we can move onto the Sonnets and Poems! That's a whole other dimension of reading, tell you what. My body is ready!
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