Beating the BBC to the punch (the British network will be redoing all of Shakespeare’s plays as films in the coming years), CBC broadcasts a television film of Othello this weekend. One review of the production labeled it a mixed bag. Several of the performances were hailed, including that of the actor playing the title role, but the direction and editing left the critic wanting Moor—er, excuse me, more. One of the production’s unusual strengths according to this assessment was Cassio, a part often thrown away as just another one of Shakespeare’s nice but bland romantic young men. Curiously, Iago’s part fell victim to numerous edits that left the character less focally evil.

One of the more interesting notes of praise was that the actor playing Othello was somewhat racially ambiguous. This raises an interesting question about the play: can we do a version of Othello that has nothing to do with race? Could this be simply a tale of jealousy and love gone wrong? In the past three decades or so, Othello has typically been played by an actor of color in an effort to (a) do away with embarrassing blackface interpretations and (b) make the play a statement about racism. In many cases, Iago’s machinations and other characters’ responses to The Moor are seen as racially charged. What makes this problematic is that the part was not written for an actor of color. Ultimately, what this production asks us is what we gain and what we lose by obfuscating Othello’s race.

Shakespeare’s 444th birthday is fast approaching (try looking for a card for that in Hallmark), and Bard Buffs will doubtless find ways never before imagined to recognize the occasion. NC Wesleyan College might have the creative edge this year because they are holding a “roast” for Shakespeare. Normally, roasting a dead person might seem déclassé, but time heals all, so four centuries has allowed us enough distance to poke fun at Will.

The real question is what kind of roast will it be? Will they roast him as if it were the late 1500’s? “Boy, that Queen Elizabeth! What a taskmaster, huh?” Furthermore, will they roast Will, his plays, or both? I anticipate there will be a lot of Anne Hathaway jokes, particularly at the expense of the second-best bed that he left her in his will (“Who got the best one? Ben Jonson?” Cue laugh track). I can also imagine them taking the air out of several overblown tragic heroes. “Hey, Othello, lighten up. You killed your wife over a handkerchief. You make the guy in Sleeping with the Enemy look normal.” Also, please be prepared for the inevitable slew of “Y’Momma” jokes at Hamlet’s expense. In addition, there will be the inevitable authorship jabs. “Will Shakespeare is here tonight ladies and gentleman. OR IS HE?”
What’s fun about an event like this is that honors Shakespeare by not taking him far so seriously. Despite his reputation worldwide, I like to think he would get a lot of laughs out of a roast at his expense.

Twentieth- and Twenty-First-Century productions of Othello haven’t been shy about playing the race card. Whether it is a race-inverted production in which Othello is white and all of the other characters are black or one set in the Antebellum South, these versions want to make sure you think about the title character’s blackness. More specifically, the want you to know that the play is as much about racism as it is misdirected jealousy (in the same way that productions of a certain other Shakespearean play must ensure you are aware of the inherent prejudices at work within it).

A new Othello places the action in modern times and emphasizes the military component by making the main characters officers in the Navy. Most importantly, Othello is cast as a Muslim, thus bringing a near-endless supply of post-9/11 subtext to the action of the play. Regardless of whatever statements it makes about racism in this country today, the production is unique for bringing faith into the discussion. The question of whether or not Othello is Muslim as written by Shakespeare remains a point of debate, and many suggest the character is a convert to Christianity. In this light, is Othello a parable about the pitfalls of assimilation? Does Othello fall prey to Iago’s manipulations because of his own fractured and compromised identity? Ultimately, is what Othello believes more threatening to people like Iago than the color of his skin?

In the realm of twentieth-century scandals involving the last name Simpson, most people are likely to think of a crazed ex-football player, a ludicrous trial, a glove, and a truly tasteless hypothetically confessional book. Yet before the SUV chase seen round the world, before Marcia Clark’s ever-changing hairstyles, there was another Simpson scandal. In the 1930’s divorcee Wallis Simpson’s romance with Edward VIII of England became notorious after he abdicated the throne to be with her. The couple has been plagued by all kinds of negative rumors, including alleged Nazi sympathies.

Those rumors and the original scandal are the basis for a new Canadian production of the tragedy Macbeth. It reminds the world of the infamous events by resetting the play in World War II, and fashioning the famously diabolical Lady M. as a doppelganger for Simpson. The historical reference is old enough not to sting anyone, but how would audiences react to the use of more contemporary scandals as fodder for Shakespearean concept productions. Speaking of O.J., what would the reaction be to an Othello inspired by his story? Would an Ophelia inspired by JonBenet Ramsey offend people? Ultimately, does history become cheapened or enriched when used in Shakespearean performances? Perhaps there is no single uniform answer to this question. Perhaps, like anything else, the result is shaped by the execution of it and the intent behind the comparison. We know Shakespeare can speak to our times, so how does he speak back to them?

One normally does not expect to see Shakespeare name-dropped next to preggo Nickelodeon starlet Jamie Lynn Spears, yet a recent blog did exactly that. The author imagines the cultural backlash that would occur if Brit’s little sis were to drop her Lifetime-movie spin session about tough teen choices and pursue terminating her pregnancy. In this comparison, the imaginary ballyhoo is likened to the scandal that would have erupted if Shakespeare had been a woman (an idea lifted from Virginia Woolf). While I have nothing further to add to the endless ink and internet space devoted to the ongoing saga of the star of Birth Control 101 - excuse me, Zoey 101 - nor to the socio-political debate that is the blog’s focus, the whole Shakespeare-as-a-woman thing has me buzzing.

What if he were? Woolf’s forecast is fairly bleak, focusing on the cultural impact of a woman writing for the stage. Yet, from a feminist standpoint, it is curious to consider how some of his plays might have differed had they been penned by a woman. Would Katerina tell Petrucchio to step on his own hand? Would Juliet say that no man is worth killing herself over? Would Desdemona have told Othello to go stuff his handkerchief? Oh, how I wish, but unfortunately that would not have been the case. Consider Aphra Behn, a female playwright who emerged roughly half a century after Shakespeare’s death. Despite the current desire to interpret them differently, her plays are every bit as ribaldly sexist as her contemporaries. For example, Behn frequently played rape for laughs….not exactly a poster for Girl Power. What would really alter Shakespeare’s plays is if they were written by a twenty-first-century woman, not an Elizabethan one. Like Behn, a female Shakespeare would have sound like, well, a man.

The reviews are in on the Donmar’s production of Shakespeare’s Othello (see previous blogs) and the response is far from universal praise. While the reviews range from rapture to disappointment, the biggest criticisms have been levied against star Ewan McGregor. While critics do not hate it on the level of, say, Madonna’s stage turn in Up for Grabs, they seem to be largely nonplussed. For many, McGregor does not seem to be giving the role enough bite.

On the flip side, co-star Chiwetel Ejiofor’s performance in the title role has been lauded for the most part. Now, it would be easy to assume that McGregor is the victim of the typical theatre-critic attack (i.e. that the theaterati go into a star-driven production with teeth bared and knives sharpened). Still, that would free McGregor from culpability, which hardly seems fair. If the Scottish heartthrob is not quite the Iago critics were looking for, that is partly because it is the most demanding part in the show. Despite the title, this is Iago’s show, not Othello’s, and if the actor playing the world’s first “frenemy” does not give it the proper malice, the show will not work.

I have always been puzzled by big-name actors’ gravitation towards the role of the Moor, since the character is wholly manipulated (in an interesting parallel, Emilia is the more colorful of the female roles in comparison to drippy Desdemona). Othello can be soulful, confused, poetic, and tortured, but we only feel for him if we see Iago twisting the knife as hard as he can.

Move over, Hannah Montana. For weeks now, the media has been positively soaked in stories about the Hannah Montana scandal. While mercifully it has nothing to do with the likes of the scandals that surround the Parises, Britneys and Lindseys of the world, it is a scandal nonetheless. Apparently, you need all the money in the state of Montana to be able to afford a ticket to the concert of the pop starlet with the state as her surname. People are shelling out thousands of dollars in order for the preteens to see the Disney star (and her “alter ego” Miley Cyrus) in concert.

Apparently, this phenomenon is not limited to the adolescent-hormone set. It seems as though a Shakespearean production, of all things, can create a similar box office frenzy. The new production of Othello starring Ewan McGregor is also seeing re-sold tickets for its performances go for ten to twenty times their original value. The Donmar, which is producing the show, is trying to stem this by discouraging viewers from paying these outrageous prices. Certainly, the theatre must be outraged at this kind of exploitation, but at the same time it verifies the fervor created by McGregor’s participation and serves as continued publicity for the show. Ultimately, the star power mentioned here a few blogs ago outweighs common (and financial) sense. For some, the rareness of seeing a major movie star perform Shakespeare live is an offer too good to pass up.

When Shakespeare wrote, “What’s in a name?” I doubt he was thinking of the famous people who would take on his plays over the next four centuries. Yet, just as actors have been defined by their performances in Shakespearean works, so too have the plays been defined by the stars who have inhabited them. A new interview with actress Kelly Reilly brought this idea into focus. If you have not heard of Ms. Reilly, fear not. Her most notable film appearance was a supporting role in 2005’s Mrs. Henderson Presents. She is primarily a stage actress and her next gig is of a decidedly high profile. She will star as Desdemona in the Donmar production of Othello featuring Chiwetel Ejiofor as the Moor and Ewan McGregor as the villainous Iago.

The interviewer made a point of noting that Ms. Reilly is something of a fresh face in comparison to her co-stars, making me wonder what affect celebrity will have on an audience’s reception of the production. Does Ms. Reilly have an advantage because she is not as well known? McGregor is a talented actor, but will anyone really see Iago or will they see Obi-Wan Kenobi from those unfortunate Star Wars prequels? If that assessment seems harsh (hey, at least I didn’t bring up The Island), it may factor into the audience’s reception of the play. As beloved as The Bard is, Othello is not sold out because of him. Fans are hoping to get a little bit closer to some of their favorite stars, and if the play happens to be good as well, so much the better.

A recent item featuring the new book Shakespeare Unbound noted that critics often try to draw parallels between Shakespeare and his character Prospero from The Tempest. The temptation is understandable. After all, The Tempest was most likely one of his last plays, so it is easy to read the text as the work of an older man. In addition, its lead character, Prospero, has the ability to create and manipulate the world around him. Just as Shakespeare had the power to control his characters actions, Prospero manipulates the lives of those around him. Furthermore, the final monologue of the play (spoken by Prospero) is often interpreted as a kind of valedictory speech. In it, some see Shakespeare saying goodbye to the glory days of his theatrical pursuits in London as he prepared to retreat to Stratford-Upon-Avon for what would be the last three years of his life.

Italian director Giorgio Strehler translated this notion to the stage in his late 1970’s production of the play. At the end of that production, Prospero broke his magic staff and the entire set broke apart around him—only to reassemble itself moments later. The idea of Shakespeare as Prospero is relatable to this idea of Prospero as God (or at least a kind of magical Master of Ceremonies).

Looking for Shakespeare between the lines of his characters’ words is fun, but it is hard to make justifiable conclusions based on this approach. One of the primary drawbacks is the potential to only look for the good. It is certainly possible hypothesize that The Bard shared the youthful ardor of his romantic heroes, but how would his acolytes feel if he was more like the diabolically manipulative Iago? If Shakespeare was a terrible person (or even just so-so), would we want to know?

Shakespeare opens his charming comedy Twelfth Night with the oft-quoted line, “If music be the food of love, play on.” Though spoken by the romantically challenged Duke Orsino, the line has taken on a life of its own. Given how often people discuss the musicality of Shakespeare’s verse, perhaps it is appropriate that this particular quote has become so famous. Apparently, some have taken the sentiment to the next level. Cello phenom Matt Haimovitz is currently performing “After Shakespeare,” a collection of musical pieces directly inspired by different Shakespearean texts. Many of the big guns are included, such as Othello, King Lear, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The pieces are designed to reflect the emotions of specific scenes, characters and moments from The Bard’s classic works.

Combining music and Shakespeare is nothing new. Aside from the ballets, operas and other musical adaptations that the plays have inspired, the originals themselves often had musical components. The Fool in Twelfth Night sings and Ophelia’s madness in Hamlet is conveyed through song. Like the soliloquies, these musical interludes create moments of transcendence when the characters can communicate more directly with the audience. Given the lyrical nature of Shakespeare’s writing, the plays are as close to music as another form can be. Haimovitz approaches these qualities from the opposite direction, by finding the music without leaning on the words. Still, it is the words that are the root of the inspiration for these pieces. In The Bard’s hands, music is not only the food of love, but also pain, fear, pity and a host of other human emotions.