The Bard’s return to Broadway made headlines last March, with the announcement that two of Hollywood’s most celebrated actors, Denzel Washington and Jake Gyllenhaal, would star as Othello and Iago.

In Kenny Leon’s modern adaptation, the business casual attire seems to be the only clear attempt Leon makes at tying William Shakespeare’s tragedy to today, despite it being set in the near future. But what his direction lacks in innovation, the actors certainly make up for in skill. Although the show made headlines this March when orchestra seat tickets were set at over $900, watching Washington lose his mind and bellow for “blood” again and again felt as good a reason as ever to spend almost a grand on Broadway tickets.

“Othello” centers on the Moorish titular character’s downfall, brought on after he appoints Cassio (Andrew Burnap) as his chief lieutenant in Venice over Iago. In this revival, there is a new sensitivity to Iago’s malevolence. His hate for Othello brims with uncertainty, proof of his insecure masculinity — a trait Gyllenhaal excels at portraying. As Iago carefully passes his jealousy onto his superior, manipulating him to believe that his wife has been unfaithful, it becomes clear how reliant this adaptation is on its stars.

“Othello” has a sleek look, with huge monolithic blocks designed by Derek McLane that glide across the stage, shifting us from the vastness of a military outpost to the intimacy of a couple’s bedroom. The ensemble’s swift, cracking movements juxtapose these slow, fluid fixtures. The cast’s precision carries a tension that is greatly enhanced by the way the actors sing the Bard’s heightened language. 

The actors’ talent was unmistakable. Even simply dressed in modern army combat attire, their magnetic stage presence steers the plot with a generous balance between charisma and depth.

Through Gyllenhaal, Iago becomes a character that one can grapple with morally rather than simply despise. His motives, centered around a secret yearning for Othello’s wife, Desdemona (Molly Osborne) and a stark hatred for her husband, are succinct but poignant, driven to extremes by his perilous envy. In one scene, Iago struts across the stage as he puppeteers a desperate Roderigo (Anthony Michael Lopez), who is hopelessly in love with Desdemona, into attacking the charming Cassio, who is falsely accused of an affair with her. Gyllenhaal’s voice carries a dangerous ambition that loudly breaks throughout Iago’s many soliloquies. His Iago holds a particularly enduring vulnerability — one that seems to be rooted in a fragile sense of manhood. 

As Iago infamously plots Othello’s corruption, he allows bits of his jealousy to be projected onto Othello. Through tears, he declares his plan to the audience, manifesting his opponent’s fall and mourning his own inevitable downfall. Gyllenhaal dislodges himself from the ensemble with startling emotion, something that is only slightly achieved by his older co-star, Washington.

While Gyllenhaal and Washington both exercise decisiveness and volume, it seems as though Washington relied on reputation to herald his performance. When beside someone as robust as Gyllenhaal, Washington’s Othello feels hollow. He strikes with little conviction, as if emotion is carelessly draped over his actions rather than a key part of them. Washington’s approach subdues Othello.

Othello’s love for Desdemona is also affected by Washington’s age. The actors playing the two main love interests have an age gap of 43 years. Even as Desdemona dashes lovingly into Othello arm’s, you can’t help but notice a sense of paternal care rather than intimacy, which largely overshadows the narrative and obscures its message.

When Othello, unraveled by his thirst for vengeance, lashes out against his new wife — although the actors’ lack of chemistry would have you thinking otherwise — the play exposes a type of love informed by possessiveness and the illusion of ownership. Othello’s past, full of hardship and trauma, draws him to Desdemona. 

Perhaps if there were a more evident time and place for this tragedy and a setting that capitalizes on the play’s discussion of power dynamics, then maybe the performances would mean more. However, the obscure, minimalist set design matches the equally uninspired lighting design by Natasha Katz. The dystopian haze falls too indistinctly to make any true impact on the story.

Contact Nghi Nguyen at [email protected].