The Globe's production of Othello provides a striking blend of comedy and melodrama.
Othello, directed by Wilson Milam, is part of The Globe’s 2007 “Renaissance and Revolution” season, and provides a robust and earthy production of one of Shakespeare’s most popular tragedies.
The most immediately striking aspect of the production is how much comedy the cast wring out of their characters. Tim McInnerny throws plenty of grins and sideways glances to the audience, whilst playing off Sam Crane’s pouting, cloak-flinging Rodorigo. Even the fatal night fight between Rodorigo and Cassio (Nick Barber) is mugged for laughs as a sort of blind man’s buff with swords.
The brawling scenes provide ample opportunity for drunken buffoonery, and sore-headed regrets the next morning – Cassio appears less a noble officer overthrown by a rival’s cunning than a muppet who can’t take his drink. The musicians, lead by Robin Jeffrey, add a generous dash of sackbut-based anarchy – nothing like a bit of high speed minstrelsy to get the crowds going.
There are more serious moments, of course. McInnerney seems to have found Iago’s motivation in the character’s suspicions of his wife, and plots Desdemona’s downfall to stave off his own need for “occular proof” of infidelity. The long exchanges about jealousy develop this tormenting drive, until it is uncertain whose cuckoldry by whom with whom is being discussed, an ambiguity which McInnerney uses skilfully, moving between deceit and self-revelation in the same passages.
Eamonn Walker’s Othello is an interesting, rather than easily engaging, performance. Instead of presenting a modern, psychologically credible character, he gives us Shakespeare’s own “Moor” – a roaring, growling, melodramatic adventurer. He keeps the audience at arm’s length, never letting them truly sympathise with Othello, forcing us to watch him as a splendid barbarous sculpture rather than a man. It’s not a particularly comfortable spectacle, though it does focus attention on how we, and the characters, interpret and relate to Othello’s race, which is frequently underscored by the script.
Zoe Tapper, as Desdemona, spends most of the play providing a foil to Othello’s moods, and comes into her own during the “willow” song, where she gives a brilliant demonstration of Globe acting. Subtly supported by music from the gallery, she brings the whole house in around her song, and the melodramatics of the death scene almost come as an anticlimax after these moments of quiet intensity.
On the downside, after three and a half hours, the stamina in the pit was at a decidedly low ebb by the conclusion, though the energy level was given a late surge by the curtain call dance. It may not have been what Aristotle would call catharsis, but it sent a sold-out house into the streets on a high.
