A Bold Take on Shakespeare’s Tragedy Through the Lens of PTSD
Walking into the Network Theatre, tucked away beneath Waterloo station, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this new take on Othello. But as the first tense moments unfolded, it became clear that Gavin McAlinden and the Acting Gymnasium company were out to do more than just retell Shakespeare’s classic tragedy—they wanted to dig into it and see what else might be lurking beneath the surface.
Most productions of Othello lean heavily into themes of racial discrimination, and while that’s undeniably a core part of the original text, this performance took approach. Instead of focusing on Othello as an outsider due to his race, it explored the idea that his jealousy and eventual descent into violence were manifestations of PTSD—the lingering trauma from his time on the battlefield. It’s an interesting approach, one that shifts the focus from societal prejudice to the personal, psychological toll of war.
But does it work? Honestly, I’m a bit torn. On one hand, it adds a new layer to Othello’s character, turning him into more of a tragic victim of his own mind than purely of Iago’s manipulation. On the other hand, this interpretation seemed to weaken Othello’s image—he felt less like the commanding, noble general brought low by jealousy and more like a man already fractured, with Iago just giving him a little push. It’s a compelling concept, but I’m not sure it fully explains the sheer intensity of his actions, especially the murder of Desdemona.
The PTSD angle wasn’t limited to Othello either. Cassio, for example, played with infectious energy by Lavan Jeyarupalingam, was portrayed as hyper and almost too jovial, which could be interpreted as his own coping mechanism—an attempt to mask the trauma he’s carried back from the war. PTSD doesn’t manifest the same way for everyone; while some become withdrawn and irritable, others might overcompensate with excessive cheerfulness or reckless behaviour.
If Othello and Cassio are wrestling with their demons, Iago stands out as the cold, calculated manipulator who knows exactly how to exploit their weaknesses. Michael Claff as Iago was brilliant—chillingly convincing, with a charisma that made his evil even more unsettling. You could almost see the gears turning in his head as he pulled the strings, using Othello’s instability and Cassio’s carefree nature to weave his web of deceit. This Iago wasn’t just a bitter underling; he was a master psychologist, preying on the vulnerabilities of those around him.
Desdemona was also perfectly cast, bringing a mix of innocence and quiet strength to the role. She felt genuine and relatable. Her chemistry with Othello was palpable, which made the collapse of their relationship even harder to watch.
If I had one critique about the performances, it would be the almost uncontrolled volume. Some of the cast leaned heavily into the Shakespearean rage, and while the intensity was appreciated, there were moments when it became so loud it was hard to follow the lines. Shakespeare’s language is rich and nuanced, and when it’s delivered at full blast, some of that can get lost.
The set was stripped down to the essentials, with almost no props or elaborate scenery. At first, I wondered if this would make the performance feel sparse, but it actually had the opposite effect. The physical violence in the play became a kind of prop in itself—every slap, shove, and strangulation felt stark and unflinching in the absence of distractions.
The Network Theatre is the kind of venue that feels perfect for a production like this. It’s intimate and a bit rough around the edges, which adds to the atmosphere. You’re close enough to the actors to see every emotion on their faces, making the experience feel personal and immediate. It’s clear that this was a production put together with a real passion for the text and a desire to explore new angles.