In today’s world of political correctness, The Merchant of Venice can be a very tricky production to mount. The problem is not because it’s Shakespeare and the language is difficult, because the driving force that propels the play forward is not love – as many productions would have you believe – but hatred: hatred toward the Jewish people, simply because they are Jewish.
Jessica is, of course, welcomed with open arms, but that is only after she runs away from her father and her faith and becomes a Christian upon marrying Lorenzo. Theatre for a New Audience’s production of Merchant captures this hatred beautifully, and it all falls upon the capable shoulders of F. Murray Abraham as Shylock.
Abraham’s grasp and delivery of Shakespeare is breathtaking. It is as if he has been speaking in meter his entire life. His portrayal of Shylock is spot on. He lives up to the bitter, revenge-filled moneylender, yet no one blames him for that bitterness. After all, who is to say which came first – did he become bitter and resentful because of the way he was treated or is he treated the way he is because he was always bitter and resentful? Regardless or which came first, the behavior of the so-called Christians is beyond deplorable. In the end, the behavior of Shylock is also deplorable. Demanding a life instead of three times the amount one is owed goes beyond revenge and Abraham demands his bond with such conviction and vehemence that it becomes hard to like him. But it would be much easier to pity him instead of be disgusted at the Christians if, leading up to that moment, Abraham had revealed that there was vulnerability underneath the bitter façade. In the famous “If you prick us do we not bleed” speech, Abraham thunders through to hair-tingling effect. But he fails to show any true vulnerability. The entire speech is laced with an undercurrent of bitterness and hate – a hate that equals that of his counterparts. Does Shylock deserve the outrageous punishment that is levied upon him for his vehemence? Definitely not, but because of his actions, it is hard to place him in the category of a victim.
Ted Schneider as Gratiano also turned in a memorable performance as Bassanio’s comedic sidekick. Merchant is definitely not a comedy, and Schneider’s moments of levity are not only appreciated but also well-played. In a world of staid business men – the production being set in the near future, with MacBooks and iPads – Schneider both fits in and stands out, letting his charisma and charm bubble to the surface whenever he has the chance. This makes his turn in the courtroom crying for Daniel and reveling in Shylock’s despair and dismantlement all the harder to stomach. It is difficult to watch those we like behaving badly and Schneider walks that line perfectly.
Kate MacCluggage as Portia stood out, but not always in a good way. In the beginning and the end, MacCluggage was strong-willed and independent. She rails at Bassanio for breaking his word early in their union to a heartbreaking effect. But as the young doctor, supposedly coming in to save Antonio’s life, she stammers and appears helpless and lost, constantly conferring with Balthasar – also in disguise – to find some way out of the predicament, which begs the questions: Where did the authoritative, confident Portia go? And, what kind of hubris led her into that courtroom, where a man’s life hangs in the balance if she had no idea what she was doing? In an otherwise powerfully climactic scene, MacCluggage stands out as the weak link, simpering and crawling her way through.
Merchant of Venice is an ugly chronicle of the way humans treat each other in socially acceptable ways. In the end, the distinction of good guys and bad guys has been blurred to such a degree that the overwhelming emotion seems to be disgust mingled with pity. Theatre for a New Audience’s production does not shy away from this ugliness, but fully embraces it, leaving much to ponder on the drive home.