★★★★★

“gorgeous to look at and stunningly staged”

Shakespeare’s “Othello” is categorised as a tragedy. After all, the full title ‘The Tragedy of Othello, the Moor of Venice’ puts it in that box, although it has often been argued that it is not so easy to pigeonhole. While not specifically a ‘Problem Play’, it always has been problematic, due to its controversial and complex issues – particularly regarding race and misogyny. However, there is no problem whatsoever with Tom Morris’ beautifully and stylishly directed revival which captivates throughout, focusing more on the troubled motivations of an unhinged protagonist and his antagonist, Iago.

David Harewood is an imposing Othello with an implicit vulnerability, the degree of which he portrays with an understated precision. Morris makes explicit Othello’s epilepsy, but it is Harewood who manages to convey that there is much more going on under the skin. This play is less about the blackness of his skin than the greenness of the eyes. The monster looms large, drawing audible gasps from the audience at the key moments of violence. Toby Jones, as a deliciously impish Iago, steals more than his fair share of jealousy too. In turn, he shares his resentful and covetous secrets with the audience while manipulating his victims. A show-stealing, darkly mischievous performance that amazingly manages to tease out perverse comedy with impeccable timing; but still be pretty creepy too.

The timeless quality is enhanced by Ti Green’s use of modern costume, set against her opulent, regal backdrops that could belong to any era. The gold trimmings of the theatre’s auditorium stretch to the back of the stage in the shape of gilded picture frames that slip away to reveal the bed on which the murderous climax takes place. Richard Howell’s lighting creates suitably unsettling moods, softening us with warm coppers and cobalts, before shattering our complacency with crashes of white. PJ Harvey’s music (composed with Jon Nicholls) bubbles underneath, often unnoticed and subliminal; unnerving yet still magnificently stylised.

Caitlin Fitzgerald’s Desdemona matches the grandeur. Regal in stature she fights back at her husband’s powerplay with a stillness and strength that (almost) conceals her fear of her own inevitable fate. Video projections reveal the dual emotions in her eyes up close – a fitting omen for the final tragic scenes. It is in these scenes that the peripheral characters take centre stage too – notably Vinette Robinson’s Emilia, the wife of Iago, who breaks out of her subservient pragmatism to deliver lines rich with emotion. Luke Treadaway, as the easily led, hard-done-by Cassio, is impressively charismatic, mixing gallantry and gullibility in explosive measures. Tom Byrne, as Roderigo, adds a lighter touch. Another pawn in Iago’s great scheme, he is more of a fool for love, allowing himself to be easily manipulated.

The whole story is crystal clear, each actor masterfully enunciating Shakespeare’s text and projecting to the rafters with ease. The only slight quibble is that the writing is, at times, a bit long-winded, to say the least. But who’s going to argue with the playwright? This slick production swiftly steers through the soliloquies to stab at the unpalatable truths of human nature. Shakespeare may have written ‘Othello’ surrounded by different principles and outlooks in society, but Morris and company take his words and speak to us in a modern setting with just as much urgency. The show is gorgeous to look at and stunningly staged. Pacy and provocative, filmic and theatrical, full of dark humour and darker candour. Compelling, chilling and thrilling; and staged with the choreographic fluidity of a ballet.

WHO IS CLAUDE CAHUN?

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★

“Director David Furlong deftly and clearly steers the action back and forth in time”

There are two dramatic themes that are being played out in Rowland Hill’s play, “Who is Claude Cahun?”, that seem to be competing with each other. Essentially it is about two individuals’ fight against the rise of fascism in the 1930s and their experiences during the second world war. On the other hand, it is a love story between a photographic artist and her muse using today’s transgender and queer ideology to explain the dynamics of their relationship. Hill’s writing creates a conflict between the two rather than blending them together into a coherent narrative. The former wins. We get a fine perspective of Claude Cahun’s – along with their lover Marcel Moore – resistance work following the German occupation of Jersey, but the crucial question in the title of the play is left unanswered.

Claude Cahun was born Lucy Schwob into a well-off Jewish family. After attending the Sorbonne, they adopted the pseudonym and began making photographic self-portraits, eventually collaborating in the 1920s with lifelong partner Marcel Moore (born Suzanne Malherbe). Although Cahun received the recognition for their artwork, Moore’s integral contribution went largely unrecognised. Rivkah Bunker and Amelia Armande, who play Cahun and Moore respectively, give mannered performances that are generally too polite to express the groundbreaking relevance of their works and lives. In their struggle to identify themselves we also have little to latch onto either. It is a slow burn, and it is difficult to match the lack of fire with the passion needed to fuel their resistance and activism work during World War II.

Director David Furlong deftly and clearly steers the action back and forth in time, showing us snippets of the young Cahun before returning to the house in Jersey in which Claude and Marcel are forced to accommodate members of the Gestapo; all the while covertly carrying out their activism – or ‘guerilla art’ as they called it – distributing anti-German fliers and poetry under the title of ‘The Soldier with No Name’. Among other roles, Ben Bela Böhm and Gethin Alderman are two, somewhat witless, Nazi officers led on a cat and mouse chase by the couple. There is an overall lack of tension, although glimmers of the danger do shine through when Claude Cahun is finally cornered and questioned. Bunker’s cool portrayal of the resilience of Claude’s character is a quiet and strong episode in an otherwise confused narrative.

Awkward attempts at physical theatre, which are intended to mirror the couple’s affinity with the surrealist movement, are at odds with the naturalism of the cast’s performances. More successful is the use of Jeffrey Choy’s video design, incorporating images of the real-life characters, as well as placing us firmly in time and place with captions. A modern approach that still adds to the old-fashioned feel of the piece.

In the first act, particularly, there is little in the writing or performances to make sense of – or justify – the emphasis on twenty-first century trans self-representation. Nor do we get a sense of the androgyny and the blurring of gender that informed their lives and work. During the occupation, the couple were forced to give the outward impression that they were sisters, living together as ‘good housekeepers’. However, that portrayal was little different from what we see in their backstory as the so-called progressive artists. Tokens of mask work and linguistic gestures are not enough to underline the importance of their work and their pioneering representation of gender identity.

The often-untold story of Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore is a fascinating and vital one that should resonate with everything that is happening today. Hill’s writing certainly brings it to light, without fully bringing it to life.

OTHELLO

Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★★

“gorgeous to look at and stunningly staged”

OTHELLO

Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 4th November 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Brinkhoff/Mögenburg

Previously reviewed at this venue:

OTHELLO

OTHELLO

OTHELLO

WHO IS CLAUDE CAHUN?

Southwark Playhouse Borough

★★

“Director David Furlong deftly and clearly steers the action back and forth in time”