Othello

Published Friday 25 May 2007 at 12:40 by John Thaxter

More usually noted for the use of cluttered settings, Wilson Milam, directing his first Shakespearean tragedy, sweeps the stage bare, save for an unintrusive backdrop of marbled pilasters and a row of Arabian Nights window cut-outs, to suggest the transition from Venice to Cyprus.

The result is a blank canvas of almost Olivier Theatre dimensions, totally dominated by Tim McInnerny’s Iago, making his triumphant return to the stage in a performance that firmly places him among the great Shakespearean actors of our day. 

Every word, clearly spoken, is winged to the far corners of the Globe. A driven liar who comes to believe his own lies, this Iago is the play’s anti-hero, rather than a mere manipulative villain with a chip on his shoulder. Had Shakespeare watched McInnerny, he might well have renamed his play The Tragedy of Iago.

This is not without problems for Eammon Walker, whose own performance as the Moor might be described as a rumble of distant thunder. Although decently done, his presence is not fully felt until he dons his white Moroccan robes for the closing scenes, played with the destructive dynamism of a Tarantino murder movie - terrific stuff as Zoe Tapper’s sweet, nimble Desdemona fights for her life, legs flailing in her last desperate moments. But Walker also cleverly choreographs Othello’s final moments of self-justification, before grabbing a guard’s crossbow and turning it on himself.

Among a strong supporting cast, Lorraine Burroughs glows as a young matronly Emilia, Zawe Ashton makes good opportunities for lively characterisation as the courtesan, and Sam Crane brings a delicious Blackadder-like Crookback style to his Rodrigo, played more for laughs than as a plot device. But I predict that years from now, young groundlings will still recall the night they saw McInnerny give his all as a totally enthralling Iago.