Francesca Baker
His name sake demanded ‘ocular proof’, and tonight we got that – not proof of Desdemona’s infidelity, but Othello Woolf’s drive and desire, an enthusiasm equalled in talent. Gracing the cabaret stage of Soho’s Madame Jojo’s, Othello appeared to be a hybrid of characters, in his Val Doonican cardi, eyes looking over the crowd through his Backstreet Boys haircut, pivoting on bouyant Elvis legs. Musically however, he is one of a kind, his vivacious blend of a melody and electric beats vividly executed through an almost dream like gauze. Othello Woolf clearly knows his songs well, and at times this backfires. Expecting a more rugged and less refined approach, the delivery at times seemed also karaoke-esque. This may have been partly due to the glossy surroundings, and certainly won’t stop It’s All Happening being in the front row of his next show.
