Othello (RSC) @ Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon, UK, 2015Tragedy

  • Andrew Cowie
  • 5 comments
Othello production images_ 2015_Photo by Keith Pattison _c_ RSC_Othello.2866 copy  copy

Hugh Quarshie as Othello and Lucian Msamati as Iago

In 2013 I posted an article on this blog saying it’s time a black actor was cast as Iago. Now, in 2015, the RSC has, for the first time, cast a black actor, Lucian Msamati, in the role. Coincidence? Well yes, probably, but if it means Greg Doran, the Artistic Director of the Royal Shakespeare Company, is a reader then, hi Greg.

Iqbal Khan’s production of Othello at the RSC opened at an interesting time in June 2015. The American civil rights activist, Rachel Dolezal, had just been revealed to have white parents but she said in an interview, ‘I identify as black’ and Steven Berkoff asserted the right of white actors to play Othello on the grounds that ‘great drama is colour-blind’. Meanwhile the actor and writer, Tim Crouch, whose 2005 play, An Oak Tree, is on a tenth anniversary tour this summer, called for a return to a Shakespearean idea of theatre representation in which all an actor has to do to play anything or anybody is to, ‘walk on stage and I say I’m someone else’.

So the RSC’s Othello, with its two black leads, Hugh Quarshie as Othello and Lucian Msamati as Iago, and ethnically diverse supporting cast, is an interesting and timely contribution to the debate. Can you be black if you want to be or is that cultural appropriation? Can anyone play anything on stage or is that a one-way street which allows white, male actors to play black and female characters while denying the same range of opportunities to black actors and to women?

The first thing to say is that Lucian Msamati is brilliant and the play makes perfect sense with a black Iago. There are some references to Msamati’s own ethnicity; for example, Iago mocks Roderigo when he refers to Othello as ‘the thick lips’ and there’s a rap battle between Cassio and Montano which reveals racial tensions between the soldiers. For the most part, though, removing the binary black and white casting of Othello and Iago defuses the racial stereotyping some productions impose on the play and it frees Othello from being the sole representative of a black, male identity and allows him to simply be one amongst many.

The set, which serves as both Venice and Cyprus with only a flown arch and window to differentiate them, suggests the ruined grandeur of an ancient civilisation suffering recent civil unrest. There are shabby, crumbling stone arches upstage centre, ‘stop the war’ graffiti stage right and bullet holes in the stucco stage left. An onstage water feature serves as a canal in Venice and as a pool in Cyprus; it’s covered by a wrought metal grid which rises above the waterline to create a solid dry stage and sinks below it to reveal the water as required.

Fotini Dimou’s costume design creates a distinct visual world, contemporary without being naturalistic, which avoids placing the action anywhere specific. The military uniforms look normal enough but the civilians are dressed in a range of glossy and textured fabrics which at times suggest Italian haute couture and at others Disney villains and villainesses. Brian Protheroe’s Brabantio, in a purple velvet blazer, has his own private black-clad army while Othello, in a matching purple frock coat, commands a troop of soldiers dressed in khaki. Desdemona’s dress has an enormous fifties shawl collar, the Nehru jacket makes a comeback on some of the men and Othello arrives in Cyprus wearing a gold trench coat.

The physical similarity between Othello, played by the white haired, sixty year old Hugh Quarshie, and Brabantio, played by the white haired, seventy year old Brian Protheroe, makes Othello less of a love match for Desdemona than a father figure and there’s little sign of passion on either side. In her heels and sixties updo Desdemona is taller than both her husband and her father which, together with her brisk, no-nonsense Home Counties accent, suggests a capable military wife and daughter rather than an impressionable girl.

The moor of Venice tends to be played as either a north African Muslim Arab or a sub-Saharan of indeterminate or no faith but in this production Othello and Desdemona both make the sign of the cross to identify themselves to the audience as Catholic. This places the action firmly in the context of the historical events on which Shakespeare based the play; 16th century Roman Catholic Venice defending its colony in Cyprus from the Muslim Ottoman empire. It also invites comparisons with the post-9/11 war on terror, there is a waterboarding torture scene too, but there are no signs of the Muslim presence Othello’s Catholic army has been sent to defend Cyprus against which leaves the politics frustratingly unresolved.

These loose ends, described by Clare Brennan in The Observer newspaper as ‘visual faffery’, pile up throughout the show. Iago fiddles with cigarettes he never lights, Desdemona has a cup of tea she never drinks and throughout the whole of Act 3, scene 3, in which Iago sows the seeds of jealousy in Othello’s mind, he messes about with a satellite dish for a military field communications system which never works. Elsewhere Cassio neither looks nor sounds remotely drunk, Bianca is reduced to a tattooed tart who shows no sign of doting on Cassio and because Othello is such a calm, unflappable elder statesman there’s no passion for Iago to play on and no sign that he killed Desdemona because he was ‘wrought in the extreme’.

It all adds up to a rather flat production; with the exception of Iago, who grows in every scene, the lack of progression when the action relocates from Venice to Cyprus corresponds with a lack of development in the characters or their relationships. In a radio interview Hugh Quarshie quoted the American academic, Harold Bloom, as saying the play is Othello’s tragedy but Iago’s play. Lucian Msamati’s performance makes the second part definitely true but Quarshie struggles to scale any great tragic heights and it remained, for me, a stubbornly unfocused and unresolved production.

Author: Andrew Cowie

Andrew Cowie is an actor, director and freelance drama facilitator living in Birmingham, England. He is an Associate Reviewer of ReviewingShakespeare.

COMMENTS

  1. I’ve seen the production twice so far. What I realized the second time around is that Iago’s fiddling with cigarettes, handkerchiefs, and other things are all signs of OCD. I haven’t yet figured out how Iago’s OCD fits in with his actions, but there’s clearly something going on.

    I did find the Quarshie’s Othello didn’t show enough emotion in the final scene, making the pivotal moment of the play a bit flat. I had hoped that the second time around it would be better – the first performance I saw was press night, the second a couple of weeks ago – but it didn’t change. I think they missed something very good there.

    On the other hand, iago is excellent. I’ve got tickets to see it again in August, and I’m looking forward to seeing Lucian Msamati again.

      • byAndrew Cowie
      • on16 July 2015

      Thanks for the reply, Kirk. I have friends in Stratford who check in with the RSC’s shows throughout the run and they have told me the performances, and sometimes the staging too, definitely develop over the run so I hope you see something new and interesting on your return visit in August.

          • byAndrew Cowie
          • on16 July 2015

          I saw an interview with Mark Rylance once in which he said the reason he never went back to Stratford after his 1989-90 Hamlet/Romeo season was that the RSC is a directors’ theatre and once the actors have come up with what the director wants in rehearsal they are expected to reproduce it at every performance for the rest of the run. It probably varies from director to director but it would be nice to think they have moved on and they embrace the liveness of the live experience a little more now than Rylance felt they did then.

          • Funny you should say that. I’ve been living near Stratford-Upon-Avon for about a year and a half, and have seen every production. For the Shakespeares, I generally go twice; for the ones in the Swan, just once.

            I saw the Merchant of Venice on press night, then again a few weeks later. The second time it was shorter, by about ten minutes, and much tighter and fast paced. This said, while I have seen changes in pacing and timing, it’s true that I haven’t noticed much of a change it acting from one show to another.

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