Once again, Shakespeare's "Othello" has come to town; and now, after a year, during which the actors have been able to give more careful atention to the problems of the play, the performance shows a great deal more maturity than last summer's production at the Cambridge Playhouse, which was hailed as a brilliant piece.

Most improved by this year of study is Jose Ferrer, whose portrayal of Iago is magnificent. Faced with the enormous acting problem of being "honest" and a villain at the same time, Ferrer plays a dynamic Iago without letting the part fall into the pitfall of melodrama.

But Robeson is still Robeson, and is tremendous as Othello. His voice, his carriage, his power are all massive in their import and raise the Moor to a height from which his subsequent fall is catastrophic.

For Paul Robeson is acting an extremely difficult role as Othello. At least, in spite of the duality of his character, Iago has a dynamic part in the play. He is the center of all the action; he is the force which is allowed to run freely through the characters in the play, tying them in inextricable knots as his "motiveless malignity" see fit. But Othello must stand as an object great enough for his fall to shock the audience. That is almost calling for the superhuman. And it's debatable whether Robeson is quite such a superman.

In certain aspects the production drops to the mundane. First, there is the question of the almost "Emperor Jones" like musical interludes, especially the drum beats in Othello's moments of rage. Music is necessary, to be sure, for "Othello," unlike most of Shakespeare's tragedies, has very little comedy--even with the addition of an over-ridiculed Roderigo. Therefore, the music provides the needed break in tenseness of the play. It is too bad, however, that there is not an adequate orchestra in the pit.

Another criticism is directed toward the "Temptation" scene. The effectiveness of the lines leading up to Othello's conviction that he has been betrayed by jealousy are slightly minimized by the technique of reading from maps. A non-chalance is introduced that turns Othello's capitulation to somewhat of a shock.

And than Robeson's voice. Certainly it is majestic, especially in the fight scenes, and its softness when talking about the "gentle Desdemona" is almost saccharine in its sweetness. Yet there is still the "singing" quality in Robeson's voice that, while it surely months Shakespear's poetry to perfection, detracts from the presentation of the lines by making the audience unsure whether Robeson is singing or speaking.

Uta Hagen's Desdemona is the third highlight of the play. Her acting as an innocent ingenue bears out the angelic descriptions of her earlier in the play. And when she sings the song her mother taught her before the death scene, the slight, hoarse voice carries a sheer emotionalism that cries out against the injustice of her fate.

Taken in its entirety, "Othello" is even a more brilliant production than its predecessor last summer. And last summer's "Othello" made dramatic history.