Review: Othello
February 19, 2009
Date reviewed: 18 February 2009
Venue: West Yorkshire Playhouse
For any vegetative, bed-ridden hermits who’ve nailed down the lids to their unmolested letterboxes but somehow read Whatsonstage.com: the West Yorkshire Playhouse and Northern Broadsides production of Othello stars Lenny Henry. Media reactions have formed a cauldron of confusion, scepticism and curiosity. Several explanations have been hinted at: an admirable and brave but perhaps foolish display of affection for The Bard’s work; an insult to the integrity of theatre; a parable about the decadence that ensues if a celebrity takes leave of his or her self-awareness. However, in dusting Broadsides out of the way to permit an undisturbed focus on Henry, an important point has been ignored: that Broadsides wouldn’t do a production of Shakespeare that it didn’t feel confident would be taken seriously.
Before the action starts the audience gets a glance at Ruari Murchison’s set, which doesn’t change throughout except for the introduction or removal of the occasional item of furniture or prop. It is simultaneously imposing and nondescript. Two walls reach from the back of the stage to the sides: one home to a large door and a balcony, and the other to what look like three elongated chalet window shutters. Both are painted charcoal grey. As a unit, it reinforces the play’s tense, grave atmosphere without really empowering any particular scene; it’s a blank slate painted dark with a few usefully positioned orifices.
The costumes, designed by Stephen Snell, are likewise safe. The uniforms of the military characters are roughly 19th century in shape, although their exotic maroon complexions and shoulder patterns are marginally more adventurous. The civilians’, on the other hand, follow the Broadsides template of design as an indicator of a character’s class and personality more than as a means of sharp periodisation.
However, in not seeking to draw attention to the set and costumes, director Barrie Rutter (who also plays Brabantio) and his team display a largely justified belief in the quality of the cast. Immediately, Conrad Nelson seems to have an unflinching grip on Iago. Alone, he paces around the stage sullenly, alternating between hurricanes of apparently rootless anger and spirals of malicious reasoning. In company, he lays hands on shoulders and leans forward into eye contact to create semblances of sincerity (this also enables his colleagues to amplify the humour of their characters’ many professions of faith in Iago’s conscientious goodwill through a little comic timing). Perhaps most importantly, he revels in the knowledge that he is totally in control, yet without this soothing his rage.
At first, he dwarfs Broadsides’ latest recruit. In much the same way as the wily engineer Iago lays down lines for the noble but impressionable train Othello to follow, Nelson initially outmanoeuvres Henry, accentuating the latter’s inexperience with his confidence. The problem is more one of movement than speech – Henry’s delivery of his lines is solid from the outset, but he doesn’t quite execute the sparse but purposeful movement expected from Othello in the first third of the play with the requisite assurance.
Strangely, however, when the more searching test of Henry’s ability to survive alongside Nelson arrives, his performance is sound. As Iago gently arouses and then inflames Othello’s suspicions, he reconciles them with Othello’s initial trust of Desdemona very respectably. As Othello’s mound of mangled emotions gathers momentum, Henry conveys their ebb and flow convincingly, not least through the careful deployment of his powerful and versatile voice. His performance never surpasses Nelson’s but, contrary to some predictions, it never looks ridiculous either.
Maeve Larkin, as Emilia, and Jessica Harris, as Desdemona, combine similarly well. They cultivate a mother-daughter dynamic, but without labouring the point into caricature. Larkin does sterling working in playing Emilia as a gutsy beacon of sense, although I feel that she offers little by way of insight into how a woman of Emilia’s intelligence doesn’t detect her husband’s venom before its work is done. Her portrayal of Emilia as the one major character who emerges with his or her dignity wholly intact is, however, credible and intelligent.
Broadsides’ first trip underneath the national spotlight’s full glare is a successful one, largely because Rutter has elected to do the simple things well. Though Othello is closer to regional androgyny than most of the company’s previous work, it is good to see that this consummately northern aspect of its outlook is what Rutter has chosen to emphasise. Under his command, Henry gives a solid theatrical debut, but is noticeably less accomplished than some of his more seasoned colleagues.
-Simon Walker
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