Over the past fifteen years, Northern Broadsides have quietly carved out an impressive reputation for earthy, grounded productions which feature clarity, energy and very often Northern accents. Their approach is not only no nonsense, but also forbids frippery, clutter and theatrical snobbery. It was therefore quite surprising that they chose a celebrity comedian, who had never acted on stage before and whose opinion of the bard was largely a leftover of schoolboy antipathy, to tackle one of Shakespeare’s great tragic heroes.   However, unconstrained by thoughts of elitism, they elected Lenny Henry, the well-loved and self-styled “Jamaican from Dudley” to metamorphose himself into the Moor of Venice.

The unexpected incongruity of this casting creates a frisson of bafflement and anticipation which sits effectively with Othello’s stage persona of renown, charisma and presence. When Lenny Henry first appears on stage, it is immediately apparent that, physically, he is incredibly well-suited to the martial general. He towers over the rest of the cast and effortlessly picks up his bride, whilst his deep, resonant voice speaks Shakespeare’s text clearly and understandably.

The emphasis of his Othello is as a trusting innocent, unable to conceive of others’ deceit and machinations.  Therefore, his jealousy and downfall pitifully arise from his own good nature.  His descent into mistrust and emotional disintegration might have been navigated with more subtlety but is still convincingly, if somewhat savagely, handled.  For a Shakespeare virgin, Lenny Henry does a more than decent job and I suspect he will improve even further during the course of the tour.

Conrad Nelson’s Iago of concentrated malevolence is a perfect foil to Henry’s expansive, generous-spirited Othello.  As dour and pragmatic as you could wish from a blunt Iago, his exposition of the fatal plot is both lucid and chilling.  With unnervingly calm hand gestures, he suggests how he puppeteers the other characters and, laughing throughout the denouement, he is a force of dispassionate, almost inhuman malignancy.

The other actors in this sturdy ensemble provide handsome support: Barrie Rutter’s own emphatic Brabantio, and Richard Standing’s Cassio who conveys both fine manners with sense until, of course, the drink sets in. Matt Connor’s pallid Roderigo is nicely linked to the “wealthy curled darlings” of Venice and Jessica Harris’ Desdemona is a piping, childish and giggling heroine.

With a tall dark set of close-knit mahogany shutters, there is a sombre and stately, almost funereal sense of space.  The Georgian costumes, in russets, browns and burgundy, provide little colour relief and there is the feeling that this unalleviated tragedy is set in a dark but formal public space.

Vigorous and muscular, this Othello enjoys Barrie Rutter’s trademark direction full of movement and integrity.  Taking a successful punt with unusual and risky casting, this production manages to unite the company’s northern grit with the sparkle of Lenny Henry to create a brutally cogent tragedy.