On Wednesday night, somewhere near Enmore, I suddenly understood how much we’ve been crying out for an accessible yet reasonably priced, all singing, all Aussie, all female dysto-punk one-take of Shakespeare’s Othello. Well, for once, the Universe has answered the call and that wrong has been righted following this intrepid reporter’s overnight discovery of said Othello and its rollicking upgrade, right in the guts of Sydney’s inner-west.
We’re at a gem of a little Theatre (Flight Path, the) where an intimate studio and bar is hidden in plain sight just inside the gates of the Addison Road organic produce market which continues to stupefy children and cure hangovers every Sunday. And like a few of the screaming A380’s overhead, this Othello punches in at a cracking pace with all unfortunates slain to our immense satisfaction some 100 minutes (sans interval) later.
We open on a full cast (in the round) as Desdemona, played by Sedem Banini, leads the first of three a cappella songs with a perplexing take on The Cure’s Lovesong. That oddity sits comfortably within this bleak place.
Theo Carroll’s lighting design in the small space is mesmeric. Actors emerge out of pools of darkness with unnerving effect. Like the story unfolding, everything is black and white and grey.
With a tight eight-strong cast, Director and Producer Diana Paola Alvarado gives us a genuinely emotional, sometimes inexplicable and occasionally thrilling account of the ‘one who loved not wisely, but too well.’
Cath Young as the officious and prideful heli-parent Brabantio smacks the opening court scenes out of the park. Her Mack truck delivery sucks a few words under the wheels, but it’s worth it for the sheer volume of outrage poured upon Desdemona’s ingratitude and disobedience. To this man, Othello’s skin colour is not as appalling as his daughter’s first expression of independence. And so, when Young’s towering strides catch Othello for a final word:
Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see:
She has deceived her father, and may thee.
It’s no threat. It’s just that pre-programmed masculine sympathy, looking out for the bro’s.
In this sparse yet claustrophobic world, the entire cast never leaves the stage, condemned to standing rigid among the background shadows. In the tight space, the effect is pronounced and discomforting. We’re all trapped now, and unwelcome eyes are watching as the pawns in Iago’s unhinged game are arranged like pieces on a chessboard.
There’s not much relief here. The audience catches a breath when Desdemona weeps out a gorgeous lament in the form of a Ghanaian lullaby. But the rest is duplicity, misogyny and violence.
Lucinda Jurd’s caricature of the goofy cat’s paw Roderigo offers a few gallows giggles. Her Emilia, smitten by the local sociopath, is sensitive, sensual and as perceptive as she is blind and doomed.
Mega critic, Harold Bloom, considered the motivationless Iago to be the first and only true sociopath ever set on parchment. Yes, he’s a bastard, but fun if you don’t get too close. Lisa Hannens’ permanent scowl and lecherous laugh reduce Iago to the bare bones – a match looking for something to strike.
Out of all this colourless dystopia comes Natasha Cheng’s striking Othello, ripe for annihilation. But this Moor is neither tragic nor preternaturally terrific. Tender, but with a temper, Cheng instead establishes her potential greatness and then sets to work through each scene whittling each quality away until we’re soon left with little more than a cool-looking wife beater.
Banini’s Desdemona, on the other hand, exudes real truth, desire and confidence, and in contrast to all, a spark for life. All the more tragic as we watch each of these strengths snuffed out by her husband’s growing menaces.
With this intelligent all-female cast, the impact of Othello’s violence has never been clearer to me or more shocking.
In the condensed second act, our hero’s just a guy methodically stalking, taunting, beating and then strangling his wife to satisfy his own misplaced sexual jealousy. The general is the most banal of murderers.
As Othello’s climactic, wanton violence becomes a frenzy upon the marriage bed, on trot the remaining cast, beaming dolefully and singing Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s poptastic Crazy in Love, as Othello kicks the hell out of Desdemona. Musical Director Patricio Ibarra must put his hand up here. It’s a crazy moment. Pretty tough to watch. There’s no poetry left. And the music is central to the production’s confusion and power.
I’ve certainly never seen an Othello so exposed by his own debasement. And if I didn’t know that Othello is not a play about race, I do now. I think what’s struck me is how little sympathy I feel for this dude.
Maybe for the first time, I’ve not wrestled as a white man watching the destruction of a black man and all he holds dearest. But rather, I’ve seen men killing women. And even Shakespeare can’t create a tragic flaw so profound as to explain away the murder of a wife by her husband.
La Fábrica de Microbios & Gente Perdida present Othello, running to 9 August at Flight Path Theatre. 9b/142 Addison Road Marrickville NSW 2204.
Tickets: https://www.flightpaththeatre.org/whats-on/othello
Website: https://www.flightpaththeatre.org/
