I heard a review of O. I haven’t yet seen it, myself, but from what I understand, there’s quite a bit of playing around with Shakespeare’s original idea. Specifically, Iago (called Hugo in the film) has to cope with a distant father, so he takes it out on O himself. In Shakespeare’s version, Iago had no real motivation for his cruelty. He was just a B-grade xenophobe—which made him absolutely terrible. This sort of person is not unheard of, of course, and made it easier to root for Othello.
I’m not sure if I like that notion. I mean, if you give the racist character a rationale for why he’s a racist, you defuse the loathesomeness of racism. I’m reluctant to accept the premise that there’s a justification for racism, and I’d prefer movies not to do so, either. It’s one thing to say that you hate a particular race because of what its ancestors did to yours or the snubs you sense in public, but it’s quite another to show in a movie that this is acceptable. From what I gather, Shakespeare’s point is that racism is an irrational hatred of total strangers, and O’s point is that there’s a reason for racism, and that we can all understand each other if we just get to know each other.
Like I said, I haven’t seen this picture, nor even read the screenplay, so I could be way off base. But the problem with modern Hollywood (or most TV and genre novels) is that there are two types of characters: the good person who has to put up with adversity and the horrible person who tries to ruin everything. The characters fight and the good guys win, of course, and no one learns anything except for the bad guys, who learn that the good guys always win (a lesson they unlearn in time for the sequel). Too few are the conflicted characters that make the audience think, “Hey! That could be me up there!” or “Hey! That could be me up there and I don’t like everything that I see!”
Shakespeare’s writing was better in touch with the world around him. Dumas’s, to a lesser degree. These Hollywood “reïmaginings” strip the original stories of their humanity and spit back whitewashed bowlderizations of previously razor-sharp characters. Whenever Hollywood reïmagines a classic, I’m always skeptical. (Of course, I reserve the right to be disappointed, but all the same, I half expect to one day see a version of Citizen Kane that ends with Kane rummaging through an old closet, pulling out a sled and saying, “Ah! So that’s where I left it!” (Cue lilting music in a major key, close-up on Kane with a sunbeam shimmering in the teardrop forming on his smiling face)…)