The biggest problem with the Met's new production of The Tempest is, well, that it's The Tempest. There's no way of interpreting the story closely that doesn't involve a supposedly happy ending (spoiler alert for 400-year-old text, folks) being the return to royalty of an exiled European aristocrat who has in the meantime created his own colony built on the fear and subjugation of his new island home's original occupants. Not to mention the creepy patriarchal attitude towards his daughter.
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