The Merchant of Venice

by William Shakespeare

seen at the Almeida Theatre on 9 February 2015

This production, directed by Rupert Goold, was originally performed by the RSC in Stratford. As Artistic Director of the Almeida Theatre, Goold has revived the production with a new cast for the Islington theatre. Ian McDiarmid plays Shylock with Susannah Fielding as Portia.

Goold sets the play in modern Las Vegas, glitzy and brash, with the Belmont scenes imagined as a reality TV show from 'Belmont Productions' called 'Destiny' (though Portia and Nerissa do actually live somewhere other than in the TV studio). The play opens in a Las Vegas casino, and its mercenary aspects are constantly underscored by the gambling atmosphere in Vegas and the greed and superficiality of the suitors in 'Destiny'. All the characters speak with American accents, some of them extremely broad; Shylock is stereotypically New York Jewish.

The interpretation of the major cruxes of the play is determined by this garish and disconcerting approach, which is thought through with ingenious consistency and some brilliant touches. Gobbo is re-imagined as an Elvis impersonator (his encounter with Old Gobbo his father completely cut), and this allows for some very pertinent Elvis lyrics to comment on or ironise the action, while relieving us of the now rather dated style of his verbal humour. The young blades are pleasure-seeking casino players, while Antonio, evidently older and less flamboyant, seems as usual ill at ease with his world. Some productions have made it clear that he is in love with Bassanio and is pained to relinquish the young man to Portia and marriage, but intriguingly here it is Bassanio who shows more overt affection towards the older man while Antonio is far less demonstrative, apart of course from allowing himself to become his hostage to fortune.

This makes Bassanio's wooing of Portia more opportunistic than deeply felt, but the whole Belmont situation is shown as superficial in the extreme, with Portia mugging to camera and exaggerating her helplessness in a broad southern drawl and an improbably curly blonde wig. Though she dislikes the game enforced by her father's will, she plays it, and her attraction to Bassanio when they finally meet cannot be seen as very deep. Yet she is all too plausibly disillusioned by the strength of her betrothed's loyalty to Antonio. That it is at his friend's persuasion that Bassanio relinquishes his ring to the supposed lawyer is no consolation to Portia (though she initiated the trick) because she sees it as a plain indication of the young man's priorities. Shakespeare has shown that the folktale lightheartedness of the ring trick cannot be transferred to 'real life' - but this production shows the joke going more sour than usual. 

Shylock, and the treatment of him by other characters, is a central problem, and the casual anti-semitism of many of the Venetians is not pleasant; it is by no means softened in this production. McDiarmid's Shylock is barely a sympathetic character - the tangle of sorrow over Jessica's elopement and her stealing of his jewels prevents that - but the great speeches of Jewish principle and humanity still sound powerful. However, by the time of the court scene, he is implacable, impervious to all pleas for mercy, and his preparations to execute his bond are chilling. Yet the denouement, for which we have to feel relief, turns quickly to unpleasant Jew-baiting, and Portia, having completely lost the girlish pretence of her 'Destiny' persona to invest the famous 'quality of mercy' speech with some real dignity, shows a viscerally unpleasant contempt for the defeated Shylock which completely taints the atmosphere. As Shylock crawls away, utterly broken and a physical wreck, with minor characters callously filming his downfall on their i-phones, we are reminded that he is not the only implacable person on stage who needs to understand more about mercy.

The final scene in Belmont finds Lorenzo and Jessica less than rapt in each other's company, and as the others return, the excitement of their triumph descends quickly into recrimination over the loss of the rings. Since the women play-acted their way to inveigling them from their lovers, it is odd that they seem not to be play-acting their anger about it - obviously stronger emotions have taken over what was at first presented as a silly whim. Jessica too is sobered and unhappy at her father's disgrace. Portia resolves the riddles and announces the restoration of Antonio's fortunes through the agonised resumption of her 'Destiny' persona, and is left dancing awkwardly in a spotlight on one high heel, seeming to be limping like a broken animal, caressing the blonde wig in misery, while everyone else looks on in embarrassment or averts their gaze in their own private melancholy.

I never expected Portia to be presented in this way - neither the crass superficiality of the 'Destiny' scenes nor the unhappiness of  her betrothal - but it was a powerful and sobering idea. Usually, despite the imposition of the casket choice, she is seen as humorous and intelligently in command of her situation; here she seemed both more complicit and more victimised. In fact nobody and nothing came out of this well - except for the play itself which certainly supports the unflattering vision we had witnessed.

It is very curious that the previous Almeida production, 'Our Town', specifically set in New Hampshire, was performed with the actors speaking in their regional British accents, while this English play was spoken entirely in American accents. Each production was in its way deliberately trying to overcome expectations, but I think that Shakespeare's plays can be enriched by these directorial decisions more successfully than Wilder's.