Modern 'Othello' walks thin blue line of racism
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In the introduction to "Masterpiece Theatre's Othello," we're told this television adaptation by Andrew Davies does something radical: supply Iago with a plausible motive for his destructive jealousy.
That's not quite right. Even those working within William Shakespeare's original version have labored to give Iago probable cause. Fifty years ago, the fashionable spin was that he had sublimated his homoerotic feelings for Othello.
But Davies' 21st-century take, airing tonight at 9 on KCTS-TV is boldly subversive.
Davies resets the story in contemporary Scotland Yard, making Othello a newly appointed police commissioner. His elevation arouses in Iago that all-consuming emotion of modern man, career envy.
That's not all. Davies incorporates the tensions of a racially-torn London both to kick off the story — which begins when a black man is beaten to death in police custody — and to make visible the enormous pressures on Othello.
The resulting two-hour movie feels much less like Shakespeare than a darkly elegant episode of "NYPD Blue," had that series the nerve to thoroughly examine issues of race.
Gone are the play's poetic dialogue and interior reflection. In their stead are blunt language, plenty of action, hallucinatory images and a Iago who openly narrates his intentions to the camera.
But there's a price to be paid for such an explicit approach.
By grounding "Othello" in the external, Davies de-emphasizes two interior elements: the intimate bond between Othello and Iago, and the surpassing "well but not wisely" love of Othello for Desdemona. Worldly issues drown out inner feeling.
This is clear from the outset, when an image of John Othello (Eamonn Walker of "Oz") and fiancée Dessie (Desdemona, Keeley Hawes) lovingly entwined on a bed abruptly gives way to scenes of a police raid and street demonstrations in a black neighborhood.
Othello, accompanied by mentor and senior officer Ben Jago (Iago, Christopher Eccleston), goes to the site and helps quell a threatening riot by appealing to the crowd.
Meanwhile, a reporter hiding in a bathroom stall at a large social gathering has recorded the white police commissioner's racist remarks about the lack of qualified black officer candidates. The next day, amid scandalized headlines, the commissioner resigns.
Great Britain's prime minister decides to make Othello successor. The call to 10 Downing Street comes as Othello is marrying Dessie, with Jago and Lulu — Jago's girlfriend and Dessie's oldest friend — as witnesses.
In one of the movie's most disturbing and riveting scenes, Ben Jago masks his disappointment at being overlooked in favor of his protégé.
His face contorts into a smile. "I'm proud. So proud," he tells Othello in a rough accent that bares working-class roots. "Of course, I'm eaten up with envy. You do know that, don't you?"
Alone, he erupts in a tour de force of rage that segues into an equally chilling moment of calm. The wheels are in motion, and Jago's complex scheme for revenge takes many clever diabolical turns under Davies' inspiration.
Yet there's already a conflict that will begin to nag at viewers more and more as the story proceeds.
Why doesn't Othello, a highly-qualified man in a notoriously suspicious profession, suspect his associate of mixed emotions? And why, in a production emphasizing concrete cause, should Othello blame his spotless-record wife instead of the guy with motive?
In the classic "Othello," where jealousy is an innate emotion and Shakespeare holds the mysteries of the human heart accountable for disaster, we probably wouldn't ask these questions. But here, tangible problems demand tangible answers.
All this makes for some unsatisfactory moments, particularly the conclusion. We're conditioned to want a resolution that ends in more than impotent despair.
Nevertheless, "Othello" is worth watching, especially for teenagers unfamiliar with the play. This version's merit lies in its willingness to tread vigorously and honestly into dangerous places.
When Othello feverishly begins to press Dessie with accusations of infidelity, it's in language that bespeaks the insecurities caused by centuries of abuse and ostracism.
"Daddy's little problem girl," says Othello. "Just palm her off on the black man because nobody else will have her, because she's damaged goods."
What a world of woe is contained in those words. Davies takes the racism that Shakespeare alluded to out of the closet and puts it in our faces, thereby transforming it from one man's affliction to a plague on the world.
Kay McFadden may be reached at 206-382-8888 or at kmcfadden@seattletimes.com.