Othello

Performed at Court Theatre, Chicago, Illinois on October 22nd, 1992

Summary Three stars out of five

A regal and sartorial Othello opposed by a racist brute Iago with multitude of motivations, enhanced by an onstage quintet of percussion musicians. Traditionally costumed and staged, but with some subpar supporting performances. Interesting interpretation, with character focus upon - and tragic flaw within - Iago rather then Othello, effectively driven to a dramatic and tragic conclusion.

Design

Directed by Eric Simonson. Set by John Musial. Lights by Peter Gottlieb. Costumes by Karin Kopischke. Sound by Brian Reed. Fights by Ned Mochel. Compositions and musical direction by Evan Chen.

Cast

Daniel Patrick Sullivan (Lodovico), Kyle Colerider-Krugh (Duke/Musician), Shanesia Davis (Bianca), Kate Goehring (Emilia), Harry J. Lennix (Othello), Ramon Melindez Moses (Cassio), Steve Pickering (Iago), Wayne Brown (Brabantio/Musician), Michael Cates (Attendant/Musician), Anthony Diaz-Perez (Gratiano/Musician), Gintara Kizys (Desdemona), Bruce Orendorf (Roderigo), Luke Wilkins (Attendant/Musician).

Analysis

Eric Simonson directs a relatively traditional Othello at Court Theatre, sparsely staged and clearly told, but with percussive music performed live onstage. The score, evocative drumming and sound effects, is performed by a group of five musicians off stage right. Simonson opens the production with a musical prelude, as Othello whisks away Desdemona in a romantic elopement.

Harry J. Lennix portrays a distinguished Othello with an appropriately commanding stage presence. His Othello is intellectual and dignified, almost regal in his dress white military uniform, charming in demeanor and polite in speech. Lennix has a husky rasp of a voice, but he delivers his lines with smooth sophistication. Lennix's Othello is a commander and an administrator, trim and fit, far from a typically brutish soldier. He gives a martial arts display intended to demonstrate exotic toughness and lethal combat prowess, but it seems awkward and does not play convincingly. Othello's epileptic seizure when he becomes overwhelmed via Iago's insinuations, however, is graphic and difficult to watch, as Lennix falls prone upon a table and quivers violently for what feels like a very long time.

With Simonson's emphasis on Othello's social confidence and personal elegance, the titular character ironically seems far removed from the trappings of jealousy and tragedy, and Iago instead becomes the focus of the production. Steve Pickering - broad-shouldered and thick of build - plays Iago as the antithesis of Othello, a tough but unrefined old career soldier and still a relatively low-ranked Ensign. A mustached man with a bald head - some brownish hair still on the sides - he is plain in appearance and action. The hatred from Pickering's Iago seems to emanate from envy, for both Othello's rapid advancement to General and for Cassio's promotion ahead of him. In a particularly telling visual indication of Iago's subordination, the brawny soldier totes several heavy bags for Othello and Desdemona as if a hotel porter or bellhop, looking in his buttoned-up uniform and white gloves much more like a doorman than an experienced military officer.

Pickering's Iago displays particularly repellent racism as another motivation for his actions, especially apparent because the newly promoted Cassio is also portrayed as a black man (the actor also serving as Lennix's Othello understudy). At one point, Pickering's Iago turns in an aside and cruelly mocks Othello with an exaggerated American southern drawl, an outlandish anachronism with a dialect from a country that won't exist for another one hundred and fifty years. Iago confides to the audience in impassioned soliloquies with almost gleeful intensity, exulting in revelations of violent hatred and devilish cunning beneath the somewhat dense and dim-witted mask he presents in public. In addition to envy and racism, Iago also apparently seethes with the need for revenge at what he honestly believes is (or was) a passionate love affair between Othello and his wife, Emilia. Pickering's Iago, then, is the jealous, racist, and revengeful focal point of Simonson's Othello, and he takes on an almost demonic quality in the production: he changes stage lighting to spotlights upon him for his soliloquies and asides with rude snaps of the fingers.

With the live percussion and memorable portrayals of a sophisticated Othello and a loutish racist Iago, Simonson's production has remarkable features, but most of the lesser roles are average at best and poorly played at their worst - with the exception of a greasy and petrified Roderigo - weakening the overall effort. And Desdemona is played unevenly, at first a pretty pale blonde waif, soft-spoken and mousy in demeanor, and apparently struggling with an ill-fitting gown and backless dress shoes. Her initial awkwardness gives way, however, to a demonstrative protestation of innocence within a loving lack of belief regarding the accusations that is poignant to behold. Desdemona's sudden strength, as well as a superbly played Emilia - Kate Goehring in a strong and eloquent portrayal of Iago's emotionally abused and continually-lied-to spouse - help elevate the conclusion after a sagging middle portion.

Scenic design features heavy ornate curtains, and costumes of almost Victorian stiffness look stately but appear rigid and uncomfortable. The conclusion, bolstered by spitting and bitter exchanges between Iago and Emilia, come with brutal speed. Othello, his anger and outrage increasingly violent - he sends a desk chair spinning across the stage in rising fury - strangles Desdemona while mounted carnally atop her struggling body, and he slays himself and passes away while still on top of her, shuddering disturbingly in an almost sexual release. The heartrending final moments play well, especially after the exposition of Simonson's interesting interpretation - a calculated risk - of placing the tragic flaw within Iago rather than the title character. Lennix's stately Othello is merely a victim, the flaw leading to the tragedy not his jealousy - he is successfully deceived and manipulated - but clearly Iago's multiple pathological motivations.