Othello

Over the years, while admiring the craftsmanship inherent in "Othello," I had always been bothered by one question. I'd studied the play in school, of course (seems to have been mandatory in my day), and I'd seen the usual versions (Orson Welles, Laurence Olivier, etc.), yet always this one nagging question kept gnawing at me, kept me from fully appreciating this play . ..

How in hell could Othello ever let himself be taken in by so obvious a viper as Iago?

Enter the BBC with its production of "William Shakespeare's Othello," with a particularly brilliant bit of casting: Bob Hoskins as Iago. Roly-poly, giggling, everybody's friend and more than a bit of a buffoon, to boot -- until, that is, he's by himself and you suddenly understand the true nature of evil.

And suddenly, I gained a true appreciation of the play. Simply because some casting director stretched himself (or herself) beyond the tried-and-true glowering serpentine approaches (a la Frank Finlayson in the Olivier production, etc.) which had been the norm.

It also helps, of course, that Hoskins is one truly fine actor.

James Earl Jones was supposed to be the BBC's Othello, but British Actors' Equity objected to an American in the part.

Anthony Hopkins as an Arab (not African) Othello so underplays and minimizes the role that the result seems to be something other than tragedy.

The sets, which are Jonathan Miller's usual cluttered interiors with references to paintings, are part of the problem.

Penelope Wilton's Desdemona appears unattractive and willful.

Bob Hoskin's Iago is the most interesting part of the production, realistic and vicious, scheming and low-class, funny and angry. If Iago were meant to act the villain at every moment in the play, this would be a nearly definitive performance.

This is an impressive and unrelievedly grim production that omits most of the light-hearted bits of Shakespeare's play -- light-hearted bits that are few and brief in any event.

Because the acting by Penelope Wilton is so excellent, we forget that she is not quite young enough and not quite attractive enough to be fully suitable for the role of Desdemona. Wilton vividly conveys the bewilderment and desolation that Desdemona experiences as her beloved husband turns against her.

Bob Hoskins is superb as Iago. He could have reined in his giggling at times, especially in the first Act, but his delivery of his lines is impeccably well-judged. Precisely because Iago as played by Hoskins is highly likable on a superficial level, his merciless and devious psychopathy is truly chilling. Hoskins displays his skill as an actor when he adopts an upper-crust accent in his summoning of Brabantio and in his gloating over the supine Othello. He thereby signals one of the motivations behind Iago's crimes (without obscuring the fact that the crimes are driven partly by a love of evil for its own sake).

Particularly admirable is the ability of Hoskins to articulate his soliloquies in a manner whereby he appears to be addressing himself. Hoskins as Iago appears to be engaged in introspection rather than in recitation to an audience. In that respect, his performance clearly surpasses the performance of Derek Jacobi in the eponymous role in "Hamlet." Jacobi is always patently addressing an audience as he deliver Hamlet's intensely inward-looking soliloquies. Hoskins commendably avoids such a shortcoming.

Anthony Hopkins is not quite as successful in the role of Othello, but his performance is generally very good. He overacts rather irksomely at a few junctures, and he looks like a slightly pudgy actor rather than a rugged soldier. Nonetheless, he delivers most of his lines well. His slapping of Desdemona is jolting, and his final speech is both poignant and devastating.

Most of the supporting actors are fine. David Yelland is good in the difficult role of Cassio, and Anthony Pedley gives a splendid performance as the foppish Roderigo. Best of all is Rosemary Leach with a riveting performance as Emilia. (Because her performance is so good, however, it highlights one of the problematic features of Shakespeare's play: namely, the implausibility of the fact that Emilia waits until the end to disclose why Desdemona's handkerchief has gone missing.)

Suffice it to say, I totally disagree with the negative comments currently on this site about this performance. All the performers in this BBC production, directed by the brilliant Shakespeare director Jonathan Miller, are superb. The fact that Anthony Hopkins is not literally a black man should be irrelevant. Obviously, many white men have successfully performed the title role in this play since it was first written by Shakespeare and performed in Elizabethan England. Need I mentioned Orson Welles and Laurence Olivier among many many others? Hopkins is wonderful in the role, as is Bob Hoskins as Othello's nemesis Iago. I have seen many performances of this play, live and on film, and this remains one of my favorites.

There is controversy here about the performances of Hopkins and Hoskins as the two major protagonists, and controversy about the nature of the production.

That there is controversy is understandable - it's a very schizophrenic production, careful and understated and clipped and British for the most part, excellently acted by a tasteful cast, Penelope Wilton and Rosemary Leach outstanding. Yet the two principals are given free rein.

Hoskins' Iago is the more successful of the two, scintillating in monologue, focusing on the evil of the character, trying to convey his plausibility via his rough charm. Hard to imagine the stiff-upper- lip types of Jonathan Miller's Venice being taken in by such a fellow, entertain them though he might.

But there is more than one letter's difference between Hoskins and Hopkins. Hopkins' performance is, as some of the reviewers have pointed out, as ripe a piece of eye-rolling ham as one is likely to see. Despite other reviewers' valiant attempts, it is really not a defensible performance, rising so rapidly from suave control to chewing the scenery, persuaded far too easily by an Iago who is obviously on the make.

The exaggerations help provide a context for his tense scenes with Desdemona - we certainly know how much he is holding back. The power of the moment when he slaps her is impressive. But when he lets rip, the acting style gets closer to Chongo out of the Banana Splits than any more accomplished thespian.

The effect is not at all helped by Hopkins sporting the most extraordinary pair of trousers I have ever seen, designed by Richard Hughes. The bizarre codpiece looks like Hopkins has had a painful accident with a stapler, and his stature is seriously compromised by odd curving stripes down the legs. This produces a number of odd and unintentionally humorous effects, most awfully during Emilia's affecting death scene, where Hopkins, standing behind the bed as a witness, appears to have little tiny legs, like Toulouse-Lautrec.

Either Miller could not control Hopkins, or gave him his head. It doesn't matter which - the result is an unsatisfactory mishmash, neither one thing nor the other.