The filming of a Shakespearean play is a task which has more than its share of pitfalls. The new Othello (With Laurence Olivier in the title role) and Henry V are examples of the reverent literal approach. These "interpretations" retain a theatrical flavour and are generally devoid of cinematic merit.

The method at the opposite extreme is to take the essentials of plot and character and place them in a different period and setting. The western, for example, is a particularly apt vehicle for expressing the ideas and themes of Elizabethan drama. Thus Broken Lance (King Lear), Jubal (Othello) and Kurosaw's western-styled Throne of Blood (Macbeth) are derived from Shakespeare. Othello and Macbeth by Orson Welles exemplify his view that one can "adapt a classic freely and vigorously for the cinema." Mankiewicz's Julius Caesar is more faithful to the original, maintaining a delicate balance between the text and the demands of cinema.

As a film, the National Theatre production of Othello can be dismissed as a token gesture. The occasional burst of editing, close-up, or camera movement, indicates that Stuart Burge has remembered his position behind the camera. These gratuitous nods to the medium are not of prime importance. Othello, in fact, cannot be criticised for being a virtual non-film (in the cinematic sense), since it could claim to be nothing more than a record on celluloid of a stage performance. One can still ask, however, whether or not the production itself is a success. One can also question whether the record on celluloid is a fail-representation of the play. I must admit I went to see Othello with some misgivings, but I did not expect to find Shakespeare's noble tragedy reduced to bloody farce.

The Moor in the woodpile and root cause of the trouble is Laurence Olivier. In his film performances he has impressed me more as an expert technician than as an actor capable of portraying a character in depth. Olivier has fine voice, delivering his lines superbly, but in the matter of outward appearance he is all composed mannerism and studied posture. The secret of apparent non-acting, so vital to any good film performance, seems to have eluded him. Presumably Olivier's style is eminently suited to the theatre, but in Othello we are treated to an abysmal display of over-acting and carpet-chewing.