Iago (Frank Finlay), enraged that Cassio (Derek Jacobi) has been promoted instead of himself, vows revenge upon his commander, Othello the Moor (Laurence Olivier), as well as Cassio. Othello has recently married the beautiful, young Desdemona (Maggie Smith), much to the regret of the foolish Roderigo (Robert Lang), who wanted her for himself. Iago and Roderigo stir up the racial prejudice of Desdemona’s father, but the Duke sides with Othello and ignore her father’s objections to the marriage. Iago moves on to his real plan, to disgrace Cassio, and than persuade Otherllo that Desdemona is unfaithful.
Director Stuart Burge translates the National Theater’s stage version of Othello for the screen as if simply to make a record of Laurence Olivier’s performance. But it is not just a film of a play. The sets have been massively enlarged, though they are barren and artificial. The camera does not sit in the audience, but moves with the actors. It is a fine halfway between the two worlds. Unfortunately, the actors edge closer to the theater, yelling when they should speak and rolling on the floor when a subtle movement would be more effective. Olivier is the worst offender, always broader than necessarily, and making no allowance for the camera.
But even with such imperfections, it is a notch above any staged version I’ve ever seen. I fear this says more about the general inability to put on a competent production of Othello than it does about this movie. Certainly Finlay helps the enterprise with a calm and engaging Iago.
However, it is impossible to get swept away as long as the star is covered in bootblack. Just as Romeo and Juliet must be youths, Othello must be racially black; sticking pigtails on a fifty-year-old woman will no more make her an innocent thirteen-year-old than paint and a fake accent will turn a platinum blond Brit into a Moor. It couldn’t have been more distracting if Olivier had played the part with a big red ball on his nose.
Othello is a problematic play and never one of my favorites, and this film does nothing to correct its basic faults. It is a story of complete idiots; no one ever shows any sign of even minimal thought. Iago’s plot is comically simple, the sort of ‘knavery” that would be more suited for one of Shakespeare’s comedies. How can he possibly expect not to be caught? Cassio is a horrible officer to be so easily tripped up and his drinking problem is laughable (though not in any sense that is actually amusing). Desdemona is mindless and chatters on and on about Cassio even when it is obviously upsetting Othello. Sure, she’s an innocent girl, but she ought to be able to catch on when her lord reacts violently to her unending badgering, at least enough to shut up for a while. And, Othello’s “tragic flaw” is not jealousy, but believing whatever he’s told. How could he ever have won a battle? Scholars point to Elizabethan prejudices to explain some of the problems, but that only accounts for Othello himself, and is of little help in enjoying the play. A director must be exceptionally clever, with his own artistic edge, to make Othello work. Burge just flops it out in front of us and hopes that it swims.