Counter Culture

Pat Harrington asked Daniel Macdonald about his fascinating play Iago Speaks performing at the Edinburgh Fringe 2025.

1.        What first inspired you to pick up Iago’s story immediately after Othello, and how did that spark relate to your interest in language and silence?  

Iago is one of the few Shakespearean villains, if not the only villain, who does not die at the end of the play and who is simply carted off with the promise that he will be tortured. I started to muse about what that might mean. Was he just languishing in a prison cell somewhere? The problem was that I was intent on writing a comedy but somehow using Iago as the catalyst for the story.

2.        How did you arrive at the idea of pairing Iago with his traditionally silent Jailer as a comedy duo that interrogates power through speech and its absence?  

The contrast between the two characters was the ultimate tool or weapon I used to explore language. By their nature, they most likely would use language very differently. And so this comedic motif of having a sense of miscommunication became one of my sources for comedy in the play.

3.        In practical terms, what challenges did you face writing and staging a character bound by a vow of silence, and how did those constraints shape Iago’s arc?  

My own question as a playwright was about how long I would keep Iago silent? And was this intentionally going to be a plot point in the play? In other words, is Iago ever going to speak? Well, the play is called Iago Speaks and so it is not meant to be a surprise that eventually he does speak. It is more about the how and why he speaks that became interesting to me. And this is all as a result of the presence/existence of his Jailer.

4.        The press release calls the play “a profound exploration of its own art form.” How do you balance laugh-out-loud comedy with moments of meta-theatrical reflection on words and storytelling?  

I’m not sure. It just works. Mainly it works because The Jailer is somehow slightly aware that he is part of something else that he is not quite able to identify. He is searching for a purpose as to why he is even there in the first place. In my play, The Jailer represents a sort of everyman character who keeps showing up in other Shakespearean tragedies with nothing to do except to hold a spear. But even then, he feels he is useful. But with Iago in this dungeon cell there seems to be no purpose to his function at all. And this raises further questions for him.

5.        Early audiences in Saskatoon and Winnipeg praised the show’s absurdity. Did their feedback prompt you to sharpen the themes of nonverbal communication and unspoken motives?  

Not really. Mainly any rewrites I did we’re focused on new discoveries around playfulness and silences without extending the play but in fact rather tightening it at any opportunity.

6.        The Jailer’s quest to “make a name for himself” drives an existential thread. How did you weave questions of identity and purpose into the play’s humour and tension?  

We know what Iago’s purpose is. He is simply a collection of characteristics created by a playwright. I was, in some ways, intent on maintaining his character, his essence, in the way we understand it. But the jailer? He is an anonymous nobody. A tabula rasa. He, on the other hand, admires Iago for his purpose, his singular intent, and his ability with language. The Jailer, at least in his own mind, has none of this and so decides to, in some way, emulate Iago.

9. How do staged silences, carefully timed pauses, and physical gestures serve to heighten suspense and underscore hidden truths?  

They primarily serve the purpose of creating a sense of emptiness; a void of nothingness where nothing seems to be what it is and nothing is happening. What I hope this does is allow the audience to begin to empathize with The Jailer and his longing for something to happen; for something “dramatic” to occur. Finally, I think it begins to motivate The Jailer to take some action on his own.

11. For Fringe audiences unfamiliar with Othello, how do you ensure the thematic stakes around language’s power and the weight of silence remain clear?  

You do not have to know anything about Shakespeare, Othello or Iago to love and understand the play. The Jailer takes care of all of this for us. In addition, the play is not really so connected to Shakespeare’s Othello that we need to know or understand that story. We know all we need to know though what information The Jailor provides.

12. When Iago finally breaks his vow, that single utterance carries enormous weight. How did you craft that moment to maximize its thematic resonance?  

It is not that Iago finally speaks that is significant. It is why he speaks that makes all the difference in the play and in how we come to understand The Jailer.

13. The play frequently winks at Shakespeare and breaks the fourth wall. How do these meta-theatrical moments shape our understanding of the theatrical process itself?  

There is some attempt in the play to breakdown some of the pretense that lives in theatre. The collapse of the 4th wall is again a way to explore and have fun with the very nature of what theatre is and ultimately what the audience’s role is in it.

14. With dialogue partially stripped away, lighting, sound design, and movement become crucial. How did you employ these elements to convey subtext and emotion?  

While sound elements are sparsely used in the play, the sounds that are used are key elements in giving us a sense of a meta-theatrical, otherworldly nature to the story. That is all I can say about that without starting to give away spoilers.

16. Rumpus is committed to new voices. How does Iago Speaks reflect your ethos of nurturing emerging talent while challenging theatrical conventions?  

As a playwright I have always been keen on helping to develop new voices in playwriting. In fact, I am the coordinator and dramaturge for a theatre company in Saskatoon with a program literally called New Voices. I get excited when I read fresh and insightful writing from an emerging playwright. There simply is this desire to help them along. I feel I have insights to offer, both as a professional playwright, and a former teacher at the secondary and post-secondary levels. This element of Rumpus is my desire to continue this practice of giving back in any way I can.

17. During rehearsals, what unexpected thematic discoveries about the power or fragility of language emerged and shifted the play’s direction?  

Showing rather than telling is always a key element in great writing. Much of my discovery in rehearsals and workshops was in new understandings around how little I had to “tell” in order for us to understand and appreciate the story.

18. The play’s tight 75-minute structure feels deliberate. How does this concentrated format reinforce themes of control, interruption, and narrative compression?  

The play is actually probably more comfortable around the 85 minutes but has been trimmed in small ways to accommodate our 90 minute time slot at The Space UK – which always includes set-up and tear down. That said, very little has been lost or compromised in order to make the play a little more “Fringe.”

19. Beyond Fringe, how do you envision Iago Speaks evolving—perhaps in new venues or formats—to further explore language, identity, and complicity?  

I am particularly interested in design elements that may illuminate new characteristics of the play that as yet have not been discovered. There are most likely a wide variety of directions new productions could go in this regard. But, as a comedy it really does have to remain true to its essence related to language and timing and so much of that will remain consistent no matter what. And while the two actors are brilliant in the production, it would be interesting, at some point, to see what another Iago/Jailer combo might do.

20. Finally, what core insight or lingering question about the power of language and the weight of silence do you hope every audience member takes away? 

Ultimately, what I would hope audiences take away is a sense that, in some ways, they see themselves as The Jailer, asking the same questions of Shakespeare, theatre, and life that The Jailer asks. But mostly, I just want them to have a really good time in a theatre, watching a play. My ultimate goal was to write a fun romp of a comedy; something that allows us to forget get the state of the world right now for perhaps a few minutes. So much of theatre these days is steeped in earnestness and causes and while much of that is important and of value, to me the greatness of theatre is always in its magic and its fun.

You can buy tickets here