At the heart of two of Shakespeare's greatest plays (both set in Venice, coincidentally) are timeless issues of ethnic prejudice. "The Merchant of Venice" is built on anti-Semitism, while "Othello" takes part of its tragic momentum from racial animosity. The production of "Othello" now playing at Hartford Stage gives that theme a surprising, and topical, twist.
Othello is traditionally seen as a black man of African heritage. But in Renaissance Venice, a major Mediterranean trading center, it's far more likely that a non-European would have been someone from North Africa or the Middle East. What's more, notwithstanding all the references to Othello's "blackness" in the script, Shakespeare's title specifies the man's ethnicity: "Othello, the Moor of Venice" -- a Moor being a North African Muslim, literally, someone from Morocco. So in this production the proud general brought down by doubt and jealousy is played not by an African-American but by Firdous Bamji, who looks convincingly Middle Eastern though his parentage is Indian.
Sad to say, director Karin Coonrod's ethnic insight is the most interesting thing about her production. It's also the most puzzling, because her conceptual intent is ambiguous. Where other productions place one dark-skinned man in a sea of white, Coonrod's cast is multiracial. The Duke of Venice is played by an African-American, Michael Rogers, and Cassio, the lieutenant Othello suspects of romancing his wife, is a Latino, Christopher Michael Rivera.
Perhaps this is merely the "color-blind" casting typical of Hartford Stage's classical offerings. Or maybe it's intended to show Venice as the polyglot city-state it was, making Othello's racial origin no issue at all. After all, Iago, Othello's most trusted officer, goads him into murderous jealousy not from any racial hostility but because he's bitter at being passed over for promotion.
But maybe, just maybe, the director wants to hold a mirror up to contemporary America in the post-9/11 era, where some racial minorities are gaining access to the corridors of power and the new target of fear and loathing is the Arabs. In this conception, Othello is the unassimilated ingredient in the melting pot, a man who perhaps has a lifetime of racist slings and arrows buried inside him, so that the very suggestion that his snow-white bride, Desdemona, is unfaithful is enough to crack his carefully constructed shell of accomplishment and confidence.
If the director's conceptual intentions are ambivalent, so is the rest of her production. After capturing that one ethnic truth, she neglects to place it within a coherent vision. This lack of focus is reflected most obviously in the physical production. Ellen McCartney's costumes are apparently intended to make the play both modern and timeless. There's a profusion of styles and eras, ranging from ordinary business suits to uniform jackets under flowing cloaks, with some truly bizarre touches. One soldier has a skirted uniform that looks like something out of Czarist Russia, and three of the Venetian nobles wear shiny colored headgear that looks like Munchkin-themed party hats.
There's little coherence in the acting, either, with some performers adopting a formal classical style and others taking a vernacular, almost slangy approach to the text. In the latter category is David Patrick Kelly, as Othello's nemesis, Iago. We've seen maliciously evil Iagos, sly, oily Iagos, and joky, prankish Iagos. Kelly tries to be all three, and doesn't quite succeed at any of them. His performance is effective in some passages, but it's too often unfocused and ultimately unconvincing.
The play's three women play mostly to type but not to extremes -- Danielle Skraastad not too gentle and demure as Desdemona, Gordana Rashovich not too brassy as Desdemona's handmaiden, Emilia, and Molly Ward not at all whorish as Cassio's girlfriend Bianca. As Roderigo, Desdemona's foolish would-be suitor, Simeon Moore goes way, way over the top, doing a whiny, foppish comic turn that looks like he's just arrived from playing Andrew Aguecheek in "Twelfth Night".
But for all its missteps, this production is a must-see for one reason: Firdous Bamji as Othello. It's a marvelously nuanced portrait of a man who knows his strengths but not his weaknesses. Bamji's very presence on stage commands respect. He is a thoughtful Othello, slow to anger but volcanic when he finally erupts. It's often remarked that the play's central character is really Iago, not Othello. With this beautifully judged, deeply affecting performance, Bamji indisputably reclaims the title role.