Scotland is lucky. Between Anthony Almeida’s Othello arriving in Glasgow this October/November, and Edinburgh University Shakespeare Society taking on the tragedy in February next year, we have two stagings in quick succession. It seems both are refreshing the story. Almeida’s revival sets the story against the Falklands War; EUSC plans to present the tragedy in a 2010s university setting. With this in mind, it seems apt to discuss what makes Othello lend itself to being retold and refashioned, over 300 years after it was first penned.
The titular character is one whose image is precariously balanced upon racial prejudice. Othello has earned his position as a general, yet is consistently perceived as “other.” Despite his high ranking, he is never truly on equal footing with other characters because of the racial bias stacked against him. This insecurity is exploited. The play’s villain, Iago, targets Othello’s sense of self, and his masculinity (even asking him “Are you a man?”) to drive him to believe his wife unfaithful, and ultimately to kill her. In an age where people are radicalised into extreme belief, the plotline of psychological exploitation is important for young audiences. Iago’s tactics — manipulation and manufacturing crises — holds a mirror up to modern structures which aim to polarise society by turning people against those they perceive as “others.” Othello never escapes the racial profiling haunting his character — even in the final scene, he is referred to as “the Moor,” rather than by name.
Another poignant aspect of the play, and certainly what stayed with me having studied it, is the treatment of women. Many stagings utilise the military setting to exacerbate the play’s undercurrent of misogyny. Soldiers’ barracks plaster overtly sexual depictions of pinup girls and models on the walls, hammering home the uncomfortable fact that the setup for this tragedy is a community in which women are blatantly reduced to sexual creatures.
Climactically, Desdemona is violently murdered by Othello — a scene which is significantly harrowing on any stage because Othello was made to suspect her infidelity. Over time, Othello is made to believe by Iago that his wife’s infidelity is so insulting and emasculating, that he thinks it justified for him to kill her. Despite its startling brutality, this plotline is not unlike the real world. The Office for National Statistics reported that of the 111 domestic homicides that occurred in 2025, 75 of the victims were female.
Aside from the tragedy of Desdemona’s fate, a second resonant female character is Emilia. The second woman to be murdered by her husband, she is also insists she will “speak as liberal as the north,” when she learns the truth. Emilia becomes a crucial voice of reason, refusing to be a passive observer. She is a woman who speaks up for her friend — and is not only disbelieved by men, but also degraded with misogynistic insults (Othello calling her a “simple bawd” when she preaches Desdemona’s innocence). Desdemona, too, preaches her own innocence. When Othello accuses her of infidelity, she asks him directly: “To whom, my lord? With whom? How am I false?” Yet she is met immediately with cold dismissal: “Ah, Desdemona, away, away, away.” The misogyny that plagues this play contributes significantly to its tragic nature. Perhaps, the horrors could have been avoided, if the women were actually listened to. Desdemona puts it devastatingly well herself: “I have not deserved this.”
Given the resonance of themes of race, gender, and psychological exploitation, it’s no wonder Othello keeps finding its way back to stages. Those who caught the Almeida’s interpretation in Glasgow and those who watch EUSC’s upcoming performance in February, are privileged to do so — to have the chance to absorb and reflect upon what is, unfortunately, a tragedy more urgent than ever.
Image of Anthony Almeida’s Othello by Marc Brenner provided to The Student as Press Material
