Violent political disturbances, xenophobia and race-related hate crimes; intolerance, blatant discrimination and culture-related victimisation: did Shakespeare have any idea that, some 425+ years after his saga about a merchant who turns to the modern-day equivalent of a payday loan broker to fund his friend’s courtship of a wealthy heiress was first published, it would still be (a) relevant, and (b) enduringly controversial today?
Debate continues to rage about whether The Merchant of Venice offers an unbiased snapshot of vicious antisemitism… or whether it was actually intended to be an antisemitic diatribe. Either way, it’s a deeply disturbing drama on multiple levels – and this bold, brilliant contemporary adaptation brings fresh fire to the debate.
Directed by Brigid Larmour, The Merchant of Venice 1936 is the result of a passion project for the play’s star, associate director and co-adaptor Tracy-Ann Oberman inspired by the real-life backstory of her great grandmother Annie, who escaped the violent anti-Jewish Pogroms in the Russian Empire for the ‘safe haven’ of London’s East End in the early 1930s.
In setting Oberman/Larmour’s re/deconstruction of TMOV against that East End backdrop in 1936 (when Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists were stirring up support for a march that would culminate in the Battle of Cable Street), putting a proud Jewish matriarch and emigrée from Eastern Europe in the traditionally male main character Shylock’s shoes and working to a script that largely adheres to the original (though trimmed-down/slightly adapted) text, the captivating theatrical, political and emotional power of the drama has been thoroughly reinvigorated.
Many Shakespeare plays focus so specifically on gender that swapping out men for women (or vice-versa) can add further confusion to already complex or ambiguous plots. But Oberman’s charismatic Shylock serves to clarify the motivations behind one of theatre’s most impenetrable antagonists: she’s a shrewd, dignified, relatable single mother fighting for survival in a terrifying world, unafraid of using her wit, wisdom and calculated cynicism to meet her own objectives… often at the expense of others.
Of the stunning ensemble cast, the chemistry between Antonio and Bassanio (Joseph Millson and Gavin Fowler respectively) – initially introduced as shallow posh boy besties – is palpable, while their third-wheel mate Gratiano (Xavier Starr) is the perfect caricature of an entitled, callous, bullying thug and Georgie Fellows captivates as a brittle, snarky socialite Portia.
Meanwhile, high production values (impeccable era-specific costumes; immersive semi-interactions between actors and audience; striking backdrop projections of vile fascist propaganda pamphlets, ominous newspaper headlines and harrowing newsreel footage) further bolster attentional levels, and Oberman/Larmour’s emphasis on the skewed influence of social class, the ‘power’ of money and the self-righteous wrongdoings of those who see themselves as upstanding, right-minded (or, in this case, Far-right minded) members of civilised society leave no corners of this deep-dive transformation of a venerable epic unturned. The whole agglomeration is enthralling from the get-go, resulting in one of the most distinguished, uncompromising Shakespeare adaptations to have graced the stage for decades.
Given the overall dynamic pace of the production in the first half, however, the build-up to the denouement feels a little frenetic and confused; if you’re not familiar with the infamous ‘pound of flesh’ bargain, the ensuing court scene, the disguise bluff and Shylock’s eventual downfall, you may not find yourself particularly enlightened here. But even if you’ve found yourself a bit lost along the way, the play’s final scene – led by Oberman’s own words, not The Bard’s – makes chilling, sonorous sense of an age-old drama that can only be described as a chilling, sonorous cautionary tale for right here, right now audiences.
The Merchant of Venice 1936 is at Theatre Royal Bath until 15 February. theatreroyal.org.uk
