Director Ellen McDougall does all of this, most notably casting Casio ... Othello's faithful lieutenant, whose promotion enrages Iago and thus sets the whole tragedy in motion ... as a woman. For 80% of the play, this seems either pointless or downright confusing. But as we near the crisis, it works. First, as Iago gets Casio drunk in order to frame her, we see a woman in a man's word, drinking with the boys in an attempt to be considered part of their fellowship. (I doubt there's a woman in the corporate world for whom this bit doesn't resonate.) Later, when Casio joins Desdemona and her maid to bemoan fate and plan a way back into Othello's good graces, we have a shattering scene of powerless women, acted upon by less-wise, less-mature men in complete control of the women's fate. At this point, McDougall's feminist take goes straight to the heart.The interpretation might have worked better with a stronger Iago. Sam Spruell was good, but not great, lacking the truly evil duplicity that's made my spine tingle with other performances. What we really needed here was that mix of contempt and fear that radiates uncontrollably towards all women when a misogynist has to deal with them, counterbalanced by excessive bloke-ishness when he's with the lads. Though Spruell's Iago treated his wife (who is also, critically, Desdemona's maid) abominably, he's doing it here because he's a bad man, not because he hates women.
My biggest issue with this reading of the play, however, is that we lose Othello's story. This version could have been rebranded Desdemona, with the Moor relegated to a manipulated chump. We lost the complexities of his outsider status and the tremendous power of his love for his wife. This Desdemona, meanwhile, is far too confident and self-assured. (Though she's admirably played by Natalie Klamar, whose scenes with Thalissa Teixeira's Emilia were ... unsurprisingly, given the re-working ... amongst the strongest in the play.)
Shakespeare wrote a young girl in the devoted flush of first love, her story all the more poignant because she doesn't understand what's happening to her. McDougall's knowing Desdemona is more angry than bewildered. One of the reasons this tragedy works so well is that you care deeply about both characters, mourning that they've both been betrayed into a senseless end. Here, McDougall goes so far as to change Desdemona's last words, swapping out the pitiful "but while I say one prayer" for a bitter scream of "Get OFF" as she puts up one hell of a fight. The scene's transformed into a tawdry peepshow into modern domestic violence. Disturbing and powerful, but it's a very different ... and less original ... story than the one you probably paid to see.
I am, no doubt, overly critical because I was fortunate enough to be in the audience for one of the greatest Othellos of all time here in London in 2008. I reviewed it here. Chiwetel Ejiofor (since Oscar-nominated for 12 Years a Slave) gave us a Moor raging against the machine and collapsing in upon himself. Ewan McGregor gave us an Iago so slimy as to make your skin crawl. While an unknown newcomer named Tom Hiddleston offered a heart-wrenchingly naive Casio. When this Othello realised the magnitude of his stupidity and gathered his murdered wife into his arms, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.
Back at the Wanamaker, the feminist version is sold out. As are most performances in this tiny jewel box of a theatre. If you're a fan of the play, but didn't get a ticket, don't mourn too much. It was interesting, but definitely not an Othello for the ages.
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