Poetry versus prose; a balance seen throughout Shakespeare’s tragedies. The elegant, effervescent, emotional language of the tragic hero set against the inward-looking, low-level gutter tactics of the scoundrel who’s out to get him. Lear has his Edmund to contend with, but perhaps more than in any other Shakespeare tragedy, the epitome of the great man brought down by a lowlife is embodied in Othello and Iago. And there’s no doubt that Tim Carroll’s new production for the RSC conveys those opposites effectively. However, despite several excellent technical aspects, and good story-telling skills, there are also many ways in which this production disappoints.
On entering the auditorium you are met with a shimmering curtain made of what looks like gauze strips plunging down from the roof in a box shape. As the performance begins, the box is seen to contain fifteen or so cast members singing with rousing operatic skills one of composer James Oxley’s specially written pieces for the production. It sets a formal, alien, but very stylish tone. The music returns occasionally throughout the show; always immaculately delivered and a treat for the ear, but as a refreshing musical sorbet rather than integral to the piece.
The shimmering curtain also appears at the back of the stage, swooshing in and out to provide a place for the characters to hide offstage but still be part of the scene; it’s visually intriguing and stimulating. Apart from the occasional presence of the shimmering box the stage is bare – giving plenty of opportunities for our imaginations to fill in the scenes. The lighting, too, casts many an atmosphere over the proceedings, and Judith Bowden’s costume design has gone down the traditional route, with a goodly amount of doublet and hose and a plethora of bustles.
Unfortunately, it’s when we come to the content of the performance that things start to fall apart. At the heart of the problem is Will Keen’s performance as Iago. Iago hides in plain sight, usually as a likeable confident, able to hold his swagger with the best of them, so that it’s a true shock to everyone when his real character is revealed. However, this Iago is a sneaky, whiny, snidey, muttering dogsbody who tends to inwardly converse rather than share his thoughts with the audience. You sense he concocts his wicked plans in real time, rather than their being well planned, and he amuses himself with his own duplicity. Although this portrayal of Iago is totally believable in itself, I find it hard to believe this would be the kind of person that Othello would have considered to be worthy of becoming his most trusted ancient.
It also sets the tone for the rest of the production – an Othello devoid of emotion, distant, detached, bloodless, and surprisingly high in cynical humour. In fact I’ve never seen a production of Othello that is so played for laughs. Regrettably, this works against the play’s essential tragedy so that the moments of high drama are lost. It really should not be the case that Iago’s murder of his wife Emilia is a cause for laughter; let’s face it, domestic violence is not funny. The ultimate act of horror in the play, when Othello kills Desdemona, is unexpectedly performed in total darkness, as if to deny it’s really happening. All we can hear is some uncomfortable scuffling, like the sound of a fishmonger trying to restrain a feisty flounder flapping around on a slab. I’m afraid it was quite ludicrous.
There is a sense of the production being stylised for stylisation’s sake. I could not understand, for example, why characters would walk towards the stage along the aprons and then hover in stagey dramatic mode before entering it. It looks pompous. As the end-of-play deaths increase, Emilia and Othello calmly join Desdemona within the shimmering box of doom, like a trio of isolated computer viruses destined to cause no harm. And the scene where Iago wounds Cassio and murders Roderigo takes place without them being anywhere near each other, each in their own spotlight; it had all the dramatic intensity of Tess Daly revealing that Cassio would be up against Roderigo in the dance-off.
Whereas Will Keen is very at ease putting his own spin on Iago’s prose, John Douglas Thompson seems less at ease with Othello’s poetic speeches, especially in the first act where it often feels more like a recital than a lived experience. He warms up considerably after the interval where, gripped by the green eyed monster, he literally buckles under the weight of torment and gives a powerful portrayal of a great man totally broken.
There is one highpoint of absolute dramatic tension, when Othello grips Iago by the throat in his fury; it stands out as being a genuine “letting-go” moment, but even so its power is reduced by Iago’s post-clutch semi-comic reaction. Jethro Skinner’s well-pitched Roderigo is only very lightly foppish, although Colin Hurley’s Brabantio is more of a pantomime buffoon, and John Paul Connolly makes the most of his appearance as the Duke of Venice.
Juliet Rylance gives us a very clear, demure and uncomplicated Desdemona, but it is only Anastasia Hille who truly gets under the skin of her character Emilia with some devastatingly eviscerating speeches that seal her fate at the hands of her villainous husband.
Even then, because of the frigid nature of the entire production, there’s no emotional reaction to Emilia’s fate, nor indeed, anyone’s. The essentially cerebral, delicate and remote stylisation tells the story clearly but also becomes monotonous, which must be a cardinal sin in a production of this most vibrant and eloquent of Shakespeare’s plays.
Production photos by Johan Persson
Two Disappointing For More!
