#Othello iago skin

The play unfolds, Iago tricking Othello into believing that Desdemona has been unfaithful, whipping him into a murderous rage. This is hatred as a hobby, with its target judiciously selected but no rationale required. What does carry weight, though it is buried in the middle of a paragraph, is his simple “I hate the Moor.” Branagh says it flat out, almost casually. He coolly decides to think that last rumor true, but his resentment seems almost perfunctory.

#Othello iago skin

Starved for evidence, we brush aside the chance that Iago is jealous of Othello’s wealth, stature, or heroism repulsed by his dark skin in love with Desdemona himself angry that Othello promoted Cassio over him suspicious that Othello slipped betwixt his sheets and cuckolded him. By giving Iago many possible motives, he gives us none. When trying to avoid fussy social engagements, I have learned that it is best to stick to one excuse than to rattle off a dozen and hope that taken together, they will suffice.

What motive could be strong enough to warrant such malice? But whether Iago is Branagh or Christopher Plummer or Micheál Mac Liammóir, I cannot rest, because-like millions of audience members for centuries-I do not know why. Kenneth Branagh plays him well-no vaudevillian curved-mustache villainy, more the fraternity boy with a charming smile and a wicked glint in his eye. Often, if I have gardened or hiked that day, the Elizabethan prose sends me into a happy doze-but Othello kept me wide awake every time. My husband and I have been on a Shakespeare kick, watching different versions and deciding whose Hamlet we like, who better captured Cordelia, how Judi Dench managed to redeem Lady Macbeth….