“Othello” opens next Sunday on Broadway. But The Post has decided to review the show a week early after the production rescinded critic Johnny Oleksinski’s ticket because he wrote a column blasting their $921 prices. That’s OK. We bought our own.
Theater review
OTHELLO
Two hours and 35 minutes, with one intermission. 243 W. 47th Street. Through June 8.
On Broadway, handing out mandatory pouches that lock up audience members’ mobile phones is increasingly common.
In recent years, they’ve been used during shows with nudity to prevent filming actors in the buff, or at comedy acts to keep surprises under wraps.
But there is no nakedness or brand new material over at William Shakespeare’s 420-year-old “Othello” at the Barrymore Theatre. Perhaps the required sealed bags are meant to keep the bored crowd from browsing Instagram.
Despite the formidable presence and occasional specks of greatness from Oscar-winner Denzel Washington, and a real winner in Jake Gyllenhaal’s feisty Iago, this is one slooow-thello.
Let’s start with the nebulous setting that adds nothing to the famous play’s look or meaning. The words “the near future” are projected onto the back wall like we’re about to watch “Blade Runner.”
Instead, the cast enters in basic, wrinkly menswear and stylish dresses and later on don army fatigues. The “near future,” apparently, is Monday.
Shocking no one, the typical weathered pillars that could just as easily flank Julius Caesar or King Lear shuffle on and off like they’re clocking in at Target. The whole pricey production seems unconcerned with being novel or visually appealing — more of an Audible arrangement.
Nearly everything about Kenny Leon’s direction exists on a spectrum of wishy-washy to thoughtless. Even the actors’ movement around the stage is clunky and mechanical.
Of course, classic plays can be extremely effective when minimal. (Though at these prices, we deserve the water acrobatics from Cirque du Soleil’s “O” — not just some sliding beams). The actors’ facility with language makes or breaks it.
Here, while nobody is less than competent, there is much more breaking than making going on.
Sprinting through speeches as the title jealous general, Washington is fine, but lacking any adrenaline drive or much of an emotional journey to speak of.
I actually noticed more of the actor’s recent movie roles than the Bard in his performance.
Rather than wear his heart on his sleeve, Washington’s murder scene is steely and unemotional, a la “The Equalizer.” And up till then, he capers around speaking strangely with a wacky instability reminiscent of Macrinus in “Gladiator II.” What he does not deliver is a fleshed-out, impassioned, fully compelling Othello.
That Washington is 70 and his character is, at most, 40 is not disqualifying. However, the age gap between Washington and Molly Osborne’s decent Desdemona puts a roadblock in our quest to connect to them. Othello has an almost paternal energy with his wife that screams “be home by 10 p.m.” more than deadly lovers’ quarrel.
Suffice it to say, this is about an un-tragic a tragedy as you’ll find.
Othello’s archenemy fares better.
Gyllenhaal, with five Broadway credits, has built an impressive Midtown resume. And, recognizing he gets to make a meal of one the great love-to-hate parts, is a delectable Iago. He gets an A for Evil.
When his villain shouts “I hate the Moor!” center stage, his menace and disgust are totally believable and in exciting contrast to his kind face. Gyllenhaal doesn’t go out of his way to contemporize Shakespeare, either. He just owns it as it is. Iago’s asides are the only times when the room is ever riveted.
Elsewhere, if anything, they’re tickled.
The audience giggles a fair amount at this story that ends in brutal deaths — from start to finish.
It’s weird. “Othello” isn’t witty “Hamlet.” The play is not even as funny as “Macbeth.” Maybe it’s because they’re in the presence of celebrities. But I get the sense that the viewers are searching for something — anything — to grasp onto on this long, chilly ride they maxed out their credit cards to sit through. And they choose laughter.
Laughs in lieu of gasps or tears.
