Star power can be a curious thing, especially when it’s the driving force behind the revival of a problematic play like Othello. Shakespeare’s drama famously centers on a Black antihero who both defies racist attitudes by becoming a much-respected general in the Venetian army while also justifying some of those same negative stereotypes by getting duped into falsehoods and lashing out against his true allies in a murderous rage. But instead of addressing those fundamental contradictions in a coherent way for 21st-century audiences or tackling the complicated legacy of the drama, director Kenny Leon’s high-wattage, high-cost production mostly coasts on the good will afforded its charismatic central duo, Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal.
At 70, Washington is considerably older than most Othellos — and his age is most striking in his scenes with his beloved Desdemona, here played by 27-year-old British actress Molly Osborne in a performace that’s so muted it barely registers. On the one hand, the casting makes the general’s suspicions of an affair between his much-younger bride and his boyish lieutenant Cassio (Andrew Burnap) more plausible. But their scenes together lack any spark of romantic passion, and his final kiss-off has a paternal or even grandfatherly quality that elicited giggles rather than shock from the audience at the performance I attended. Washington, who has made frequent (and memorable) appearances on Broadway over the years, remains a compelling presence — but we never truly grasp how the ramrod-straight military man we meet in the first act could be turned so quickly and so completely by the wily charms of his lowly ensign, Iago.
Gyllenhaal, also a stage veteran, gives a crafty performance as Iago, slyly imitating Washington’s speaking cadence early on to mock the boss whose decision to promote Cassio instead of him helps prompt his elaborate revenge plot. It’s true that the villains are often the most compelling characters, and Gyllenhaal brings a bro-ish quality to his Iago that resists the usual mustache-twirling simplicity. There’s a ruthlessness to his approach to the role that makes his dissembling all the more compelling for its complete immorality.
But the stars are continually let down by Leon’s undercooked production, which repeatedly plops its cast downstage center as if we were in a glorified staged reading. Only Gyllenhaal seems to look at his co-stars, cajoling them — sometimes with physical pokes and jabs — to go along with his devious plans. There’s also a mishmash of styles here. An opening projection tells us that the setting is “the near future” — and yet there’s a conflicting sense of where and when the action takes place.
The guards for Desdemona’s patrician Venetian father wear uniforms reading “Polizia,” for instance, while Othello’s troops don camo uniforms bearing American flags. Dede Ayite’s costumes are contemporary, but Derek McLane’s classically minded set design evokes an Old World of regal columns. (Natasha Katz’s blunt lighting design requires the actors to hit their spots lest they be cast in shadow during key scenes, a requirement they only sometimes achieve.) And the interstitial music between scenes ranges from beat-centric hip-hop to Andrea Bocelli-style light opera.
More surprisingly, Leon also gives us a muddled treatment of the show’s live-wire racial politics. On the one hand, Gyllenhaal’s Iago introduces himself with a series of clearly racist opinions about his commander, as well as his disgust that this “Moor” should have won over a beauty as fair as Desdemona. Moments later, though, we learn that his own wife, Emilia (a first-rate Kimber Elayne Sprawl) is a confident, forthright Black woman. Confusingly, she’s costumed both as a camo-clad member of the battalion in some scenes and in others as a smartly dressed personal assistant to Desdemona (outfitted in Armani-style pant suits that evoke a Hillary Clinton-esque political spouse). The production could have dropped Iago’s racial epithets to focus on his bitterness at losing the lieutenant gig (or the unsubstantiated suggestion that Othello once slept with Emilia) — but preserving that portion of Shakespeare’s text raises questions that this production never addresses, let alone resolves.
Leon does streamline the Bard’s original play, dropping the dated scenes with the clown, and he also has the cast gallop through the lines he’s kept — particularly in a rushed first act that blurs some of the poetry along the way. But while the energy never flags, there’s a gnawing sense that something is missing here. The scenes unfold with a sense of purpose and inevitability, but there’s no plausible throughline. Why is this Othello, strikingly passionless early on, so easily pushed into foot-stomping, neck-squeezing rage? Worse, Leon’s awkward staging of the final acts of violence provokes both gasps and laughter — not the effect you’d expect if the shifts in the characters’ emotions rang true.
Still, there are pleasures to be found here. Burnap makes a striking impression as the self-conscious, eager-to-please Cassio, while Anthony Michael Lopez injects the easily gulled Rodrigo with greater depths than we usually see in this comic foil. And Gyllenhaal and Washington never fail to hold our attention. They are stars for good reason, and the lofty ticket prices (up to $921 for top seats) confirm their standing. But like Desdemona’s stunned reaction to her husband’s green-eyed rage, you may leave this Othello appreciating the well-wrought fury in the words of this production, but not the words themselves. ★★★☆☆
OTHELLO
Ethel Barrymore Theatre, Broadway
Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes (with 1 intermission)
Tickets on sale through June 8 for $321 to $921
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