Kenneth Branagh is said to have played 35 Shakespearean parts, albeit back in the day. Seeing him speaking in verse these days is something of an event, all the more so when he is making a return to the Royal Shakespeare Company after more than 30 years to take on, for the first time, Shakespeare’s magician, deposed duke and tyrant occupier. Even the king turned up for it some days ago.

Branagh’s Prospero initially follows in the vein of his fast and feverish King Lear, performed in the West End in 2023. He seems to be speeding through the part rather than inhabiting it, too puckish, almost larky, rather underwhelming. It is the show itself that casts its spell through its enchanting sights, sounds and ensemble accomplishments. Richard Eyre, directing his first Shakespeare play at Stratford, does a stupendous job of bringing an overt sense of performance to the production.

He casts Prospero as a conductor on this isle of sweet airs and noise and he conjures the opening storm from a music stand, orchestrating the action as a back-screen opens up to a magnificent vista of gurgling waves, the circular stage listing, the sound of drums, lightning and thunder creating a very theatrical sense of crash, bang and wallop. Prospero is bringing on a storm that will return his usurping brother to him, for vengeance, but he is also hailing in a polished cabaret or circus act, of which he is master.

Everyone plays their part: Ariel (Amara Okereke) looks like a trapeze artist, acrobatically afloat, a delight for her beautiful movement and song, and there is unspoken love in the chemistry between Prospero and Ariel. The scenes featuring Caliban (Ashley Zhangazha), Stephano (Guy Henry) and Trinculo (Keir Charles) as they plot rebellion, wink toward a music hall comedy sketch. It seems significant that Caliban is not monstrous or grotesque in any way but resembles an indentured slave. He is earnest, noble, putting on his comic act but tragic beneath.

Sound and music is central as a whole, with bongo drums both energising and symbolic of a land that Prospero has colonised whose indigenous sounds are insuppressible. Shakespeare’s songs sound new here, with a near-rap by Caliban and Prospero occasionally speaking in singsong lilts. Bob Crowley’s set design is enthralling too, almost Disney-like with its sparkly, floaty elements, casting spells over us with its visual thrills and beautifully choreographed movement. The back-screen is vital for conjuring Prospero’s illusions and there is something of the children’s magic show to it all.

Branagh’s diction bears clarity and ease, as ever, but not quite enough depth. He is vital and bounds around, a possessive dad as he stalks the sides of the stage while his daughter Miranda (Ruby Stokes) flirts with Ferdinand (Fred Woodley Evans), but far from John Gielgud’s elderman (in Peter Greenaway’s film). His levity is alluring but seems lightweight. So does the showmanship of the production in the first half, to some degree, busy in dazzling us with its magic rather than mining to the core of this profoundest of plays.

But as Branagh slows down too, the production takes on deeper, more plaintive shades and you feel the emotional hit when Prospero declares that the rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance. Caliban is wordlessly habilitated back into his rightful role as ruler of the island in this ending and it gives power to Prospero’s transformation. You feel the magician becoming more human and humane; abjuring tyranny as liberating for the oppressor as it is for the oppressed.