Innovative ‘Merchant’ Astounds

The stark contrast between the opulent, neoclassical architecture of the Cutler Majestic Theatre’s interior and its sleek, modern, and minimally decorated stage echoes the contrast between common interpretations of William Shakespeare’s “The Merchant of Venice” and the radical new production directed by Darko Tresnjak. Tresnjak opts to change the setting from 14th-century Italy to the fast-paced world of modern-day Wall Street. The dramatic alteration of the play’s location allows for a unique, subtle, and tremendously effective rendition where heroes and villains are reversed, comedy surprisingly arises from most dramatic moments, and anti-Semetic undertones fade.

“The Merchant of Venice” primarily concerns a quarrel between a rich merchant Antonio (a chilling Tom Nelis) and the object of his prejudice, Jewish moneylender Shylock (a scene-stealing F. Murray Abraham). Shylock lends Antonio a large sum so that Antonio’s friend Bassanio (Lucas Hall) can travel to Belmont and woo his future wife Portia. Shylock, who hates Antonio for his anti-Semitism, demands that, if Antonio cannot repay his money, Shylock will be allowed to “remove a pound of flesh” from Antonio’s body, essentially killing him. Usually, productions of “The Merchant of Venice” portray Shylock as a foolish, villainous, and greedy Jewish man. In contrast, this production makes an unlikely hero of a very human Shylock.

F. Murray Abraham’s performance as Shylock is a tour de force that covers a complete spectrum of emotions. His Shylock is loving, vengeful, desperate, jealous, and hopeful; often times these emotions are subtly depicted in tandem. Abraham colors his character with a vast array of hand motions and vocal inflections that make him seem undeniably realistic. His performance is so far removed from the usual unsympathetic performances of Shylock that near the end of the play, when Shylock screams “take my life” in court and raises his arms as if on a crucifix, he begins to take on a mythological aura. The supporting performances are also uniformly outstanding. Kate MacCluggage’s sexy, confident, and aloof Portia, Ted Schneider’s idiotic, frat boy-like Gratiano, and Andrew Dahl’s strange yet hilarious Balthasar all hold their own even in Abraham’s company.

Tresnjak brings out the immense humanity of Abraham’s Shylock by setting the play in Wall Street and populating it with unsympathetic characters. Three MacBook Pros and three large plasma televisions displaying stock values lie on the sparsely decorated stage, as mechanical as are the play’s supporting characters. These characters, dressed in expensive investment-banker attire, are played with much less fervor and more emotional distance than Shylock. For instance, the opening scene introduces Antonio and Bassanio, supposed friends, having a conversation from opposite sides of the stage. The lighting supports this separation by enshrouding Bassanio in the only dark area on stage; it is as if he has no connection with Antonio at all. In contrast, none of Shylock’s interactions are distant. He is constantly in other characters’ faces, gesturing and shouting wildly.

To further this impersonal portrayal of Wall Street’s inhabitants, Tresnjak takes away the messengers in Shakespeare’s play and replaces them with dehumanizing cellphone conversations. Shylock is the only major character never to be seen with a cellphone. Even when interacting with members of lower social class, such as his servant Launcelot Gobbo—played to comedic perfection as a pothead by Jacob Ming-Trent—Shylock always speaks face-to-face.

Equally impressive is the symbolic use of color in lighting and costume design to further humanize Shylock. Every time a heinous act is committed against Shylock—the robbery of his house, his yarmulke being ripped off, his being kicked to the floor—the stage becomes doused in red light. Further, the two characters who play the largest role in Shylock’s demise, Portia and Antonio, are the only ones to wear hints of red. The symbolic meaning of the color is ultimately explained in a scene where Portia’s father, a dead king, speaks in a demonic voice to one of her suitors, repeatedly using the word “devil.” Here again the stage is doused in red. Shylock’s enemies are thus associated with evil, and Shylock himself with good.

While the show offers a variety of successes, it is Tresnjak’s skilled, subtle direction that stands out in the end. He so clearly reinforces Shylock’s true humanity that he achieves the near impossible: overriding centuries of interpretation and successfully changing the play’s meaning. At the end of the play when Shylock barks “I will have my bond” and forces himself onto Antonio, attempting to remove his owed pound of flesh, we do not fear for Antonio’s safety from the Jewish devil, as is often intended. Instead, we urge our hero on—his humanity has earned him justice.