The father-daughter relationship is heavily foregrounded in Jeremy Herrin’s extremley funny production of The Tempest. Continually shot-through with nostalgia and a tenderness that belies Prospero’s furies, this production treads a delicate path through a text that can be riddled with problems. James Garnon’s painted and feral Caliban is more man than monster, lead astray by Sam Cox’s Stephano and Trevor Fox’s hilarious Trinculo. Roger Allam makes a fine Prospero, whether booming from the top of the Globe and brandishing his staff, or tenderly stroking his daughter’s hair.

The relationship between Jessie Buckley’s beautifully naïve Miranda and Allam’s fatherly Prospero is at the heart of the play, and Herrin really focuses on their interactions – Allam’s Prospero often watches over his child even when he’s technically offstage. The affection they feel for each other after being trapped on the island for 12 years is well portrayed, and Prospero’s pain at letting his daughter go is moving without being over the top. Buckley is a great mix of dutiful daughter and petulant teenager, and her first love-struck scenes with Joshua James’s brilliantly goofy Ferdinand are nicely judged. Colin Morgan is an impressively athletic Arial, swinging and leaping about the stage with a lightness that taunts gravity. He relationship with Allam’s Prospero is also filial – as is the Prospero-Caliban relationship at times. Allam is at the centre of his island kingdom, and the responsibility of daughter and servants appears to weigh heavy upon him.

Stephen Warbeck’s incidental music is perfectly magical, especially when sung a capella. The ethereal sounds float about the Globe’s space, creating a real sense of wonder. Sian Williams’s exuberant choreography nicely offsets the less boisterous tunes, and she creates a lot of visual humour in the dance sequences.

The play as a whole is very funny. From Prospero’s self-deprecating intonation to his hilarious father-daughter dancing during the Masque, Allam is at the heart of the humour and the pathos in this fine production. Although the production occasionally slides towards sentimentality (Caliban’s redemption at the end lays it on a bit thick), this is, at its heart, a gentle production that delights in entertaining. It doesn’t explore the darker side of the text, glossing over the uncomfortable post-Colonial overtones, for example, but that’s not this production’s purpose. It sets out to entertain, and it does. A thoroughly enjoyable and amusing production which holds a very human Prospero at its centre.

The Tempest is at Shakespeare’s Globe until 18 August . For more information and tickets visit the Globe’s website.