The other night I had the experience of
going to one of our local theater company’s production of Othello. Now this version was a little different. That statement is
almost a cliché now because almost every production of Shakespeare is “a little
different.” People are always finding new or inventive ways of producing
Shakespeare. They will set plays in the 1940’s, or during the Civil War, or the
roaring 20’s, or with all Elvis Impersonators (okay I made that last one up,
but I wouldn’t put it past some director out there).
This particular production of Othello was set underground beneath New
York City and it was steampunk (I will assume you know what steampunk is, if
not, look it up. That is a discussion for another day.) This production and the
choices made, worked. Alas, not all the alternative settings for a Shakespeare
production do work. It all comes down to how much thought the production team
put into the concept. It is easy to come up with an offbeat idea for a
production: “Let’s do Henry V on a moon base!” But if there is no underlying
reason for Henry to be running around on the moon, then it detracts rather than
adds to the story. (On the other hand this might give all new meaning to the
line “Once more unto the breach dear friends!”) Once I saw an otherwise good
production of The Taming of the Shrew
that was set on the boardwalk in Atlantic City in the 1960’s. It had an
elaborate and fun set that had all kinds of booths and games and diversions and
beachwear . . . that had nothing to do with the show and was not incorporated
into the show in any way. I was left puzzled. If you are going to go to that
much trouble to construct an environment for the show, then the audience
expectation is that it will be integral
to the show.
Why this Othello works in an underground steampunk setting is that Othello is a dark play that fits in with
the darkness necessitated by subterranean steampunk. There is a claustrophobic
feel to the show that works well. Othello is deceived by Iago and driven to
near madness in his unjustified jealousy. The caverns under New York are like
the dark caverns of his mind as he slips deeper and deeper under Iago’s spell.
Iago just sets the suggestions in motion, but it is really Othello’s own mind
that does the damage to itself. Iago may hand him the shovel and tell him where
to dig, but it is Othello that digs his own pit of destruction and that of his
wife. It is a pit deeper than any subway tunnel. This is why it is hard to feel
any sympathy for Othello. We may despise Iago, but we condemn Othello.
And perhaps, part of our discomfort with the character of Othello is because we worry a bit about how
suggestible we all are. If a good man like Othello can be driven into jealous
madness by a cunning set of lies, could something similar happen to the best of
us? It is something to consider in today’s political climate when the left and
the right are bombarding us in social media with memes of questionable
reliability. We should seek the truth rather than allowing our emotions to
drive us. A lesson that Othello learned the hard way.
(My novel Star Liner, is now available as an e-book
through Amazon, or the other usual online sources. For those who like to turn
physical pages, the paperback will be out soon).
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