William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice
by Bill Henry on Sep.03, 2004, under Bill Henry's Movie Reviews
William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice
Directed by Michael Radford
Sailing into select salons nationwide 1/28/2005
3.5 *
One of Shakespeare’s “problem†plays gets a first-rate screen version in William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. This is the just sort of film to gladden the hearts of moviegoers who revel in the high quality, first-class production values, and top-notch cast that often receives the putdown of a “Masterpiece Theatre†version. Why this could be considered an insult is beyond me, but for those who like a little earthiness ground into their Shakespeare, this movie features a star turn by Al Pacino
First the “problems:†Neither properly classified as tragedy nor comedy, the play is best known to modern audiences for its anti-Semitic verbiage. And much as Iago’s motivation or the question of Hamlet’s sanity, Shakespeare leaves it up to each individual production to answer the question of why Antonio would enter into such a stupid bargain with an enemy (a pound of flesh for 3,000 ducats—why not just settle on three points above prime?) and why is Shylock such a bitter little pill.
The most significant of Radford’s assembled cast is Al Pacino who plays Shakespeare’s cursed Jew, Shylock (hey, the chosen people are chosen to play Italians all the time). Swimming in his robes and buried behind an appropriately bushy beard, little old elfin Al is almost invisible save his eyes; but that is more than enough. Pacino’s Shylock burns with a desire for revenge that can only be quenched by a pound of non-kosher flesh. When the eponymous merchant begs mercy from Shylock, the audience already sees the answer in Pacino’s angry glare. He did not let Fredo off the hook and that was his brother—what makes you so special.
I have never been Radford’s biggest fan. His Il Postino is one of most overrated Oscar Best Picture nominees (no, Out of Africa, but no way was the other Postmen one of the five best of movies of 1995 nor any other year. Nor would I venture to say that any monkey (or in Radford’s case a B Monkey) could get a serviceable flick with this source material and cast. But Radford’s contributions are especially meritorious here. As for Antonio (Jeremy Irons), this merchant of Venice wants to help his friend Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes), a handsome, but dissolute fellow who wishes to woo the lovely Portia (Lynne Collins), an heiress who would be attractive even without her huuuge… trust fund. Without the cash on hand to help Bassanio wife it wealthily in Belmont, he borrows the money from Shylock even with the rather odd loan codicil that failure to pay would result in Shylock cutting a pound of flesh from near Antonio’s heart.
As the opening title cards helpfully point out, 16th century Venice is as oppressive towards the wandering Jews as 19th century czarist Russia. The only accepted business for them is the ability to lend money at interest (and none of the Christians are much interested in lending otherwise). So why would Antonio borrow under these terms and why is Shylock so keen to collect a forfeiture that can only rain down whatever is the Venetian equivalent of a pogrom upon him and the other habitués of his synagogue.
Well, in the Bard according to Radford, Antonio is in love with Bassanio (cue homoeroticism and Irons’ knowing glances). And as for Shylock, the constant abuse (including one pointed incident where Antonio gives in to peer pressure and spits upon Shylock), the loss of his daughter (and her presumed conversion to Christianity) who has also removed a dowry-sized fortune from her father’s coffers has left him with a thirst only for revenge. All productions including this one culminate in one of theatre’s great courtroom scenes complete with twist resolution and a bit of healthy cross-dressing.
Michael Radford may not solve the question of Shakespeare’s rank anti-Semitism and why a genius so ahead of his time in so many other regards could have written a play with so much despicable hatred (his final revenge upon Shylock is gratuitously vile), but he has delivered a first-rate Shakespearean adaptation.
I wonder what Ken Branagh could have done with this.
–Bill Henry
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