A magnificent Mandy Patinkin propels 'The Tempest'

From here on out, the audience at the off-Broadway theater is as enchanted as the characters who are beguiled by this magician, played by Mandy Patinkin. He's a magnificent Prospero, commanding the stage with emotional intensity.

The outcast duke of Milan, Prospero was exiled by his heartless brother Antonio a dozen years earlier. He lives on a deserted isle with only his teenage daughter, Miranda, for human company, along with two servants— a sprite, Ariel (Angel Desai) and a deformed part-human called Caliban, touchingly portrayed by Nyambi Nyambi.

Fate sends the vile Antonio near Prospero's island, as part of the entourage of King Alonso of Naples (a properly regal Michael Potts) who also participated in Prospero's downfall.

Patinkin exudes glowering, simmering forcefulness even in tender moments with Miranda, who is sweetly portrayed with ethereal innocence by Elizabeth Waterston. Patinkin doesn't merely act as Prospero, he seems to become Prospero, seething with repressed rage and hubris at his power and sudden chance for revenge.

Miranda, having never seen another human besides her father, immediately falls in love with the first one she encounters. Not by chance, he is Alonso's upstanding young son, Prince Ferdinand (likably played by Stark Sands). Yusef Bulos is a warm, kindly Gonzalo, the faithful courtier who helped saved Prospero and Miranda 12 years ago. Karl Kenzler is suitably arrogant as the unrepentant Antonio, and Bhavesh Patel does commendable duty in four small parts.

Oana Botez-Ban has designed impressive bleached muslin costumes and rich-looking royal robes, creatively using body-painting to set apart the characters who are not human. Christian Frederickson's music and sound design create subtle, varying moods to accompany each scene.

Director Brian Kulick's streamlined production features subtle lighting design by Brian Scott and a minimal set by Jian Jung, most noticeable a large canvas covered with a cloud-painted sky. Raised and lowered at times by four human-operated cables, this odd sky is often settled at a distracting angle near the simple sand floor, perhaps representing the general strangeness of the island.

The cast skillfully dodges this floating intruder, as they pursue their separate journeys of despair, introspection or confrontation, and undergo various sea-changes. From the first thunderclap to the final soliloquy, this "Tempest" is a triumph that will please all lovers of Shakespeare and good theater.