When adapting a play for the screen, a directors primary responsibility is to visualize an enactment that remains true to the original works perception. In addition to this task, the director must also build upon the foundations laid by the script; without this goal, (s)he would have no reason to have undertaken the project in the first place. Providing an innovative reading of a well-known play is undoubtedly a challenging task, but few directors have met the challenge so successfully as Peter Greenaway in Prosperos Books, an adaptation of Shakespeares play The Tempest.
Greenways most compelling accomplishment in the film is his elegant rendering of the plays theme of the artist as a creator. Prosperos Books, as well as the original The Tempest, is an exercise in artificiality, genesis, and performance. Rather than presenting a realistic interpretation of The Tempest, Prosperos Books relies on imaginative artistic alchemy. The film revolves on the image of Prospero in his library; he is seated, framed by books, and surrounded by spirits.
In this ornate setting, he inscribes The Tempest onto the manuscript while simultaneously performing the piece for the audience. Many of the scenes take place in his imagination, while others occur in the surreal palace around him. This impossible setting is full of dancing spirits, shimmering pools of water, monsters, and mountains of books. The palace appears to be analogous to Prosperos mind; certainly, the film is independent of the workings of the real world. This fantastical existence is a labyrinth of memory and evolving reality, which transforms in order to accommodate Prosperos desires.
While Prosperos dramatic vision is certainly the most apparent example of artistry in Prosperos Books, Peter Greenaway himself takes extensive liberties with Shakespeares story in order to present himself as a master filmmaker. In the opening scene, Greenaway demonstrates his artistry by depicting Prospero arranging the tempest and its resulting shipwreck. With help from Ariel and a large cast of nude spirits, Prospero sinks a tiny toy boat in a pool within his palace, seeing the fear of the boats crew only in his head. There is no indication that the storm occurs anyplace besides Prosperos imagination.
Greenaway stages this fantastic scene with soaring music, flickering lighting, and layers upon layers of action; there are, literally, frames within frames, and the movie screen is broken up into many layers, suggesting three-dimensional depth. Although much of Greenaways direction takes liberties with Shakespeares script, it remains relevant to the plot by emphasizing the same themes. Building upon The Tempests constant awareness of its own fictional status, Prosperos Books continually stresses artificiality and performance.
To emphasize his roles as an artist and creator, Prospero confronts his audience at the end of the movie with a farewell speech that deliberately corresponds to Shakespeares departure from the theater. Although many critics have drawn parallels between Prosperos closing speech and Shakespeares departure from the theatre, Greenaway takes the comparison to another level. In Prosperos Books, Prospero actually becomes the bard, his identity flickering back and forth between these roles just as the images dance across the screen. By portraying the final scene this way, Greenaway hails Shakespeares career and works.
Indeed, Shakespeare is very much a character in both The Tempest and Prosperos Books. His artistic vision is paralleled by both Prosperos and Greenaways. Ultimately, Prosperos Books presents the story of The Tempest through the eyes of three masterful artists: Shakespeare, Prospero, and Greenaway. Their characters emphasize the importance of performance and illusion, thus depicting the artist as a creator. By portraying the film in this way, Greenaway achieves a masterful version of The Tempest in film. Prosperos Books builds upon Shakespeares themes while remaining true to his original vision.
