Othello- Globe

It’s an interesting Othello – streamlined, precise, strong – but also one that’s strangely inert, simple, and (confusingly) not wholly suited to the Globe’s beautiful shared space. There’s much to admire and like, but it just didn’t manage to locate the play, to locate its politics, to locate its titular character.  Perhaps down to its minimal set, its stripped-down run time, I was never really transported to a Venice that meant anything. Good things happened on stage, but it felt a wee bit stagey. Whilst many other problems were fascinatingly solved, it didn’t quite sell Othello: the great character, the great play.

It’s all about Iago here, who plays it for laughs, but unexpectedly so. At the beginning, as Rylance runs through those words at such a pace, this Iago seemed to be an evil Cyrano de Bergerac – unable to flirt himself, he makes others his mouthpiece, specifically about ‘romance’ – but whereas Cyrano uses his power for good, Rylance’s Iago is a selfish, nasty player instead, and where Cyrano can love, Iago can’t. It’s all about sex, or lack thereof – talking about his wife’s infidelity stops this sad Iago dead, but when dancing with Emilia his attitude isn’t lust but control (stopping her dancing with anyone but him, but not dancing himself) suggesting him sexually incapable, sexually frustrated. Unlike the other knights with their shiny pointy daggers, Iago has a baton, phallic but blunt and useless. I do think that permeates his performance. No motiveless malignity, he only slows down when describing Othello sleeping with Emilia, and the distinct silences after make this loud and clear.

Whilst I think this is his motivation, he does seem to make it up as he goes along (shocked when Othello agrees to kill Emilia), and it’s this that’s interesting about his Iago – because then, these aren’t the actions of some revenger or even some malignity, but of a failure: a weaker, less clever, impotent soldier, surprising himself and relying on luck. It’s an interesting interpretation, especially from an actor who so easily invites audiences into his confidence – yes, he played things for laughs, but he did as the class clown who uses humour to hide his own deep inadequacies, a pitiful grin masking his loneliness. He’s pathetic, but never deserving our pathos. This makes Iago a hard character to warm to, but makes for an interpretation easy to admire quite a bit.

Incidentally, I LOVED Rylance’s Richard III. It might actually be my favourite Rylance role ever (no, still Endgame). It was all about the joy of evil, as if told by a friend who DID deserve pity, and Rylance connected to the crowd on such a chummy level it was soooooo thrilling murdering together. Whilst this approach would have been great for a Globe Iago, I’m kind of glad Rylance played him so unloveably pathetically – it made an interesting contrast.

Instead, it’s Sheila Atim who runs away with this production (Emilia’s the best role in the play anyway). Always dressed in gold (thus always the most visible person on stage), she’s a literal trophy wife for Iago, a woman he married for show not love. However, Atim gives Emilia energy and autonomy even when silent, through motion and through strength. Where Iago is pathetic, Emilia is always engaging to watch sing, dance and be herself. In a crowd scene she’s great at drawing attention to herself (unlike Iago), when talking with Desdemona she seems eloquent and paced (unlike Iago). She’s a good musician (unlike Iago) and she’s clearly still got a romantic appetite (unlike Iago). Rylance’s relative age is also played up, his baldness deliberately hidden yet often displayed – comparatively, Emilia’s youth makes her more autonomous and him more pathetic. A trophy wife but never on the shelf – if she was unfaithful, then, frankly, good! This Emilia struck me as as poetic and powerful as the man she was married to (and potentially no less morally dubious), but clearly more complicated, considered, and interesting, maybe moral too. I don’t think this is because van Kampen wanted to set Emilia up as Iago’s foil – I think that’s because Atim’s that good. Maybe Atim should soon play Iago?  (she should definitely release a CD)

Andre Holland, great though he can be, gets short shrift, because if the production plays up Iago’s paranoia, it also underplays Othello's. Holland’s a lovely, earnest speechifier, and his slow sexual doubts nicely mirror Rylance’s – or would, were these two closer. We never see enough of Holland and Rylance together; it felt like most of the cuts were to Othello rounding out his character.  Rylance often watches Othello (an interesting choice) but rarely talks thus Othello never has reason to trust, like or know Iago (a duff choice). Instead Othello's offstage infidelity becomes Iago's motive, not Iago becoming Othello's; thus Othello’s merely the MacGuffin in Othello. I’m attributing this to the two hour thirty run time, and this is the first time I’ve ever complained about a show being too short.

But just to make a quick comparison with the Hytner – Lester was better than Holland in and of himself, but in no small part this was down to the military setting, where his vulnerabilities had to be hidden with macho bravado, a self-suppression Lester played beautifully but wholly in the DNA of the setting. Here, what is Venice? A wooden O. Without so strong a setting, where is this Othello and what does he lead? (how was Ejiofor, and crucially also how was Grandage?)  Here, too, smaller roles – Cassio, Rodrigo – were generally played for laughs, which didn’t help ground the show or give context to Venice. Even the full ensemble scenes emphasised Iago and Emilia – sadly sidelining Othello and the military themselves.

Now, my expectation of “Mark Rylance plays Iago at the Globe” were that Rylance would crowd-surf his way through these scenes, clown us into liking him, and darken the story as it went on. Instead, Rylance gives a really interesting, insular, counter-intuitive but inventive performance – and nothing on stage really leaps off the stage, Atim aside, Iago’s villainy included. Expectation vs reality? Perhaps, but I admire and like the textual ideas – I just didn’t engage with anything beyond its interpretation of Iago and especially Emilia. Indisputably this Othello: The Moor of Venice downplays Othello and Venice.

But it’s good too: I’m happy to write all these things I found really, really, very interesting about how Iago’s a funny failure; how Emilia’s his exact opposite; how an old and impotent Iago is as dangerous as a young and virile one; and especially how, in fact, a sexually frustrated (involuntarily celibate?), racist, sexist, past-it wannabe soldier bullying their way into the big leagues is as topical an Iago as you could get. In theory I LOVE that – but why can’t I say I liked Othello? Perhaps because these were all readings of the text, and not, as the Globe always does best, playings.