Othello (Grandage, 2008)

A 'critical analysis' of this recent Othello I submitted for my MA application. At least it got me a place.


Othello (Dir. Michael Grandage)
Donmar Warehouse, Jan 3rd 2008

The casting of Grandage’s Othello may have created a sell-out production but it gains artistic merit by not ‘selling out’ to the popularity of its Hollywood celebrities. Here is an ensemble piece that effectively weaves together the cinematic approaches of McGregor and Ejiofor with the more theatrical styles of other actors, most notably the younger Tom Hiddleston and Edward Bennet as Cassio and Rodrigo. Michael Billington suggests in The Guardian (4.12.07) that this Othello can be viewed as a ‘refreshingly classical, aesthetically harmonious production’. It is ‘refreshingly classical’ because its approach recalls ‘classical’ themes such as honour, nobility and dignity, traits which all of Iago’s victims, even, to some extent, Rodrigo, possess in this production. This is refreshing, not because we are, as Billington goes on to say, seeing a ‘play restored to its seventeenth century origins’, but rediscovering these universal themes through a distinctly contemporary production.

London theatre critics have tended to begin their reviews by expressing their disappointment with Ewan McGregor’s Iago, going on to conclude with a passage of surprised praise for Chiwetel Ejiofor’s ‘superlative Moor of Venice’.[1] This critical approach is understandable in view of the post-Romantic history of interpretation that Iago has accumulated over the centuries, and since this once unconventional prioritising of character has become a tradition, it is inevitable that the more conservative critic will, as Charles Spencer does in The Telegraph, find their expectations of a show-stealing Iago unfulfilled and reduce their argument to an assortment of ‘this character ought to be...’ clauses.[2] By bringing to the production his own interpretation of Othello, in which Iago is unquestionably the ‘motor’ that ‘powers the plot, reducing the noble Moor to savagery’, McGregor fails to deliver Spencer’s crystallised image of the villain. The other expectation of McGregor, this time primarily from the archetypal schoolgirl, is that he will live up to his mythical stature as a film star and intoxicate the 250 seats of the Donmar Warehouse with his celestial presence. On both accounts Grandage has managed to avoid these expectations which not only makes the performances refreshing but is an apt real-life metaphor for one of his central themes: characters that find themselves unable to sustain invisible, and sometimes unobtainable ideals. Cassio’s crisis in II.iii, carefully and earnestly construed by Hiddleston, is at the heart of this production:

I have lost my reputation, I have lost the immortal part of myself—and what remains is bestial.

This anxiety of Christian morality has been replaced in the 21st century by the anxiety of the celebrity. The Western polis seems to care more about its fallen or fallible celebrities than political protagonists; an issue that is implicit in a production that has two Hollywood actors playing a General and his Ancient of the Venetian army. McGregor’s refusal (or inability) to dominate the Donmar with a mystical performance appropriately questions much of the eager audience’s preconceptions of what Othello is and what a celebrity actor should be.
The overlapping of the cinematic and the theatrical is present throughout the production and playfully fuses the realism and expressionism that are present in both forms. Instead of diminishing the play’s theatricality, the cinematic elements help to reinstate the power of its live performance. Incidental music occurs throughout and is almost patronising to the audience when a subtle rumbling accompanies Iago’s monologues or Cassio’s uncomfortable succumbing to the devil drink, but its presence is a part of the external force of nature that encircle the victims of this Tragedy; the wind that knocks at Desdemona’s chamber smoothly blends into the ethereal music of her Willow song and draws a parallel between the manipulative tools of the cinema and those of Nature.

Grandage finds an effective balance between subtlety and clout, for example, the double act of Rodrigo and Iago, no longer the fop and the villain, characterises McGregor’s Iago with more anxiety than control. Edward Bennet’s voice is noticeably thicker than McGregor’s and commands more attention than McGregor’s soft diction, but rather than being a hindrance this helps to create a challenge for Iago. In IV.ii Bennet delivers his complaint, ‘I do not find that thou deal’st justly with me…’, more like an embarrassed gentleman than a gullible dupe; accompanying the mistrusting line ‘Is that true?’ with a sharp, pointed finger towards Iago. This scene is refreshing with its sense of danger for both characters and also demonstrates the differences between actors of the cinema and the theatre. This contrast is also at work between Cassio and Iago in the ‘reputation’ scene when the conviction of Hiddleston’s performance, the strong timbre of his voice and his defeated self-loathing, overshadows McGregor’s subsequent monologue which is hidden beneath his soft toned delivery. Softer tones are by no means anathema to Othello and one of the principle merits of Ejiofor’s Othello is his masterful command of silence, pauses and a noble tenderness that make lines like ‘I’ll tear her all to pieces’ all the more earnest for his restraint; the contrast with an audience’s preconceived ideas of, or familiarity with, savage and coarsely delivered Othellos makes his performance stand out. The effect of McGregor’s underplaying, regardless of any weakness as a Shakespearean actor, pushes Iago further into the shadows and, sustaining the productions’ concern with external, natural forces, makes the effect on his victims an external force that they cannot escape from. Othello’s epileptic fit is anticipated by involuntarily trembling hands and following a quiet and introspective succession of ‘handkerchief, confessions, handkerchief’ Ejiofor falls to the floor as if suddenly knocked out by the external force of jealousy. The dignity that Bennet gives to his Rodrigo makes his duping appear out of character, as does Hiddleston’s succumbing to drink. These performances are not inconsistent and inaccurate but, together, they display a terrifying drama of forces that cannot be controlled and threaten to defeat the most honourable of personages.
The Tragedy of Othello, in Grandage’s production, is about an incompatibility of private, domestic ideals with public duty, a discomfort that is compellingly paralleled with the move from the immortal and widely viewed medium of the cinema with the risky and ephemeral field of the theatre.
[1] Susannah Clap, The Observer (9.12.07)
[2] Charles Spencer, The Telegraph (5.12.07)