What is “The Tempest’?”

Is it the storm at sea conjured by Prospero the Wizard in William Shakespeare’s play, “The Tempest”?

Is it the natural world rebelling against the trampling, treacherous transgressions of man?

Is it the shipwreck of human nature that crashes on the shores of ego, stirring up storms inside man, raging and swirling in heart and mind?

“The Tempest” is brilliant, daring and profound at Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival (PSF), through Aug. 6, Main Stage, Labuda Center for the Performing Arts, DeSales University. The opening night, July 14, performance was seen for this review.

This is a monumental production, from minute detail of behind-the-scenes stagecraft to larger-than-life representations on stage. It’s bold, beautiful and powerful.

“The Tempest” marks the PSF directorial debut of Jason King Jones in his inaugural season as PSF artistic director, and it’s an auspicious debut at that. Jones wows the theater-goer on every level. In the production originally conceived by Dennis Razze, PSF Associate Artistic Director (who is retiring in this, his and PSF’s 32nd season), Jones takes control of this gargantuan and complex Shakespeare work and, by turns, renders it thrilling, humorous and thought-provoking.

Against a backdrop screen of ocean depths, waves and moon, a ship deck, helm, mast and furled sails sets the stage. Scenic Designer Steve TenEyck and Associate Scenic Designer Rodrigo Hernandez Martinez have created scenes of symbolic significance.

The storm rages, thunder sounds and lightning flashes. Lighting Designer Eric T. Haugen, with Sound Design by David M. Greenberg and Projections by CJ Barnwell, combine to present an immersive experience.

And so the magic of theater begins in the PSF production of “The Tempest.”

Sailors are tossed to and fro. A mysterious figure appears, looming center stage, in cloak, staff in hand, bearded of face, gray hair flowing past his shoulders.

He is Prospero (Robert Cuccioli, in his PSF debut). If no man is an island, you wouldn’t know it with Prospero, the Duke of Milan, overthrown by his brother Antonio (Gregory Issac), who is aided by the King of Naples, Alonso (Eric Hissom).

Prospero and his daughter, Miranda (Billie Wyatt), set adrift, landed on the island 12 years ago. Prospero rules the island, with his books of magic, assisted by the sprite Ariel (Sarah Gliko) and the half-man, half-monster Caliban (Christopher Patrick Mullen).

When Alonso sails on a ship with his son Ferdinand (John Austin), his brother Sebastian (David Pica) and Antonio, Prospero conjures a storm at sea, causing the shipwreck that opens the play. Prospero has taken matters into his own hands. He is the island. The island is him.

Robert Cuccioli plays Prospero as a gentle yet stern presence, slow to wrath, but when ignited, look out. Cuccioli dons and doffs the cloak convincingly.

Sarah Gliko is a total delight as Ariel, A Tinker Bell meets Puck, crouching and bending, inquisitive visage, hands fluttering as if her body is lighter than air, as it often is. Spoiler alert: Ariel flies. She is ever-moving, ever-expressive. Gliko has a lovely, lighter-than-air singing voice.

Billie Wyatt as Miranda represents innocence personified. She brings a wonderful ingénue quality to the role.

John Austin as Ferdinand characterizes an upstanding young man who is also without blemish. He has a fresh-faced earnestness.

As for Caliban and company, who want to overthrow Prospero, this trio is a coup de Commedia dell’arte even more outlandishly hilarious than the professional-wrestling-inspired Wagner Group’s June 23 “March of Justice” to Moscow and Putin.

Christopher Patrick Mullen as Caliban has a different take on the role, emphasizing the character as more of a tortured soul. Mullen makes Caliban less a monster than a wronged individual. He evokes great empathy, despite the scary makeup.

Jim Helsinger as the drunken Stephano is a force to be ridiculed with. Helsinger is the picture of pomposity with preposterous voice, facial expressions and body language. That he is outfitted in impressive attire makes him all the more ridiculous.

Akeem Davis as the jester Trinculo plays it to the hilt. He is laughingly joyousness in the role.

Sue Jin Song is memorable as Gonzala.

Gina Lamparella is stunning and sings beautifully as Juno.

The cast includes PSF Young Company actors Megan Castellane (Cera), Johnny Drumgoole (Master), Iyanu Joshuasville (Boatswain, Adrian), Nicole Lawrie (Francisca) and Gabrielle Moseley (Iris).

The Masque scene is a wonderful confection with elegant choreography by Gina Lamparella.

The costumes by Lisa Zinni are spectacular. Zinni also gives a sense of realism as befits each character. Miranda’s costume is chaste modesty. Ariel in turquoise and blue is a punk-rock pixie. Juno’s gown is the gold-standard of exquisiteness.

Original songs and Music Direction by Matthew M. Nielsen, Original Compositions by Johnny Drumgoole and Musical Composition by David M. Greenberg are impressive. Eli Lynn is the intimacy director.

“The Tempest,” said to have been written 1610 - 1611, is believed to be one of the last plays written by Shakespeare.

If a case can be made that Shakespeare is the father of the rom-com (romantic comedy) as in “The Merchant of Venice,” “The Two Gentlemen of Verona,” “As You Like It” and Twelfth Night,” a case could be made that with “The Tempest,” Shakespeare is the father of science-fiction, fantasy, dystopian futurism and horror.

The science-fiction film, “The Forbidden Planet” (1956), is said to be loosely based on “The Tempest.” Robby the Robot and Leslie Nielsen notwithstanding. One could draw analogies to ABC-TV’s “Lost” (2004-2010).

To put a finer point on it, in Walt Kelly’s newspaper comic strip “Pogo” (1948-1975), to commemorate the first Earth Day in 1970, the cartoon possum exclaimed, “We have met the enemy and he is us,” paraphrasing United States Navy Capt. Oliver Hazard Perry in the 1813 Battle of Lake Erie, who after defeating the British, stated, “We have met the enemy, and they are ours.”

Prospero has the epiphany that the enemy he met is not them or us but himself. He’s at war with his own nature. “The Tempest” without is his tempest within. Prospero eschews pagan ways. Prospero tosses off his magical robes (a precursor to Harry Potter’s Invisibility Cloak). He sets aside his staff (He’s a Moses who doesn’t part the Red Sea, but stirs up the sea.). He says good riddance to the “rough magic” (Act 5, Scene 1) for a new way, an enlightened path of vulnerability, compassion, forgiveness.

It all comes down to that.

Think of Shakespeare’s tragedies, “Hamlet,” “Othello,” “King Lear,” among them. All are consumed by power and bent on revenge. “The Tempest” is a paradigm shift for Prospero and perhaps for Shakespeare.

Prospero is a troubled soul. With his nose in his books, his brother usurped his kingdom. Prospero is no more Mr. Nice Guy. Prospero resorts to magic not unlike psychological operations (psyops), aka mind control. His “Tempest” tantrums inspired British author Aldous Huxley to take a page or more for his artificial intelligence (AI) inspired dystopian novel, “Brave New World” (1932).

Ariel, who can be interpreted as an Angel, appeals to Prospero’s better nature, restoring his nobility. Prospero goes high, choosing the higher ground. He takes personal responsibility, and no longer leans on his staff or hides behind his cloak. One by one, Prospero forgives his tormentors and those he torments. He turns the tables, represented brilliantly in the PSF production the stage platform is rotated.

The plot for “The Tempest” is essentially that of mind over matter. Prospero changes his brain chemistry, predating French mathematician and philosopher René Descartes’ (1596 - 1650) dictum, “I think, therefore I am,” in his “Discourse on Method” (1637).

In his mindfulness, Prospero is a kind of Buddha, or Christ figure, who sacrifices his God-like powers and status to become a mensch. Prospero chooses the road not taken: love over hate, forgiveness over revenge, or to put a contemporary spin on it, negotiations over cluster bombs.

In the famous soliloquy in “The Tempest,” Prospero observes, “We are such stuff/As dreams are made on, and our little life/Is rounded with a sleep.” (Act 4, Scene 1). Cuccioli more than delivers this, he breathes it, he exalts it.

And yet it’s Miranda, Prospero’s daughter, the next generation, Gen Next, who gives a clue to the new direction, perhaps to a new deal, a great society, with a grain of truth even as wheat supplies languish in ships on the war-tossed Black Sea. “O brave new world,/That has such people in’t!” (Act V, Scene 1), says Miranda.

And so, we depart the theater into the “brave new world” (some scholars say Prospero, as in prosperous, has assayed the Americas) of our own doing ... and undoing.

On the drive to the opening-night performance of “The Tempest” at the Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival, I wondered what among the frequent summer storms of 2023 might await me. Sure enough, beyond the rain that fell along Cedar Crest Boulevard and I-78, there appeared a rainbow over South Mountain. In minutes, the rainbow dissolved back into a leaden sky. Little did I know what delights and insights awaited me, yet again, as always, over the mountain in Center Valley.

With “The Tempest,” Jason King Jones, the actors and production staff return PSF to Shakespeare on a grand and majestic scale. It’s jaw-dropping, eye-popping magnificence. You won’t see anything like this on a stage in the Lehigh Valley, nor few other regional theater companies.

The Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival production of “The Tempest” is one summer theater show not to miss. Theater is ephemeral. It is such “stuff” that dreams are made of. You need to see a storm to see a rainbow. See “The Tempest” before it vanishes, as Prospero and we know it must.

“The Tempest,” 7:30 p.m. July 12-14, 19, 26, 28, 20, Aug. 3, 5; 6:30 p.m. July 18; 2 p.m. July 23, 29, Aug. 6, Pennsylvania Shakespeare Festival, Main Stage, Labuda Center for the Performing Arts, DeSales University, 2755 Station Avenue, Center Valley. Tickets: 610-282-9455, http://pashakespeare.org