The Merchant of Venice reviewed

I just returned from the Michigan Shakespeare Festival's production of The Merchant of Venice, and my god what a performance. There was a great deal of concern that they were presenting "an antisemetic play" and in doing so, condoning antisemetic attitudes and behavior. Having seen this show, I can vouch that nothing in or about this play in any way condones or applauds bigotry of any sort.

The actor who portrayed Shylock, Ed. Simone, is a gifted performer who created a Shylock who was not evil, but badly abused by his peers, betrayed by his daughter, and is justifiably grieved and pissed off. This Shylock does not love his money more than his daughter, but upon her disappearance is so distraught that he finds he has no vocabulary to express his pain. He tries to exclaim "my daughter!" but stumbles over the "d" and finally resorts to crying for his ducats. When he attempts to speak her name, he is overcome with sorrow and cannot get past the "j" in Jessica, and so bewails his jewels instead.

The sympathy the audience feels for the misused Jew is outweighed only by the revulsion felt for the "heros," the two-faced Christians whose hypocracy is brought into the spotlight by the director. John Neville-Andrews, a veteran of the Royal Shakespeare Company and a professor of theatre and drama at the University of Michigan, used hymns such as "Onward Christian Soldiers" to create an army of mindless, crusading protagonists.

Leads Janet Haley and Neil Necastro were electric as Portia and Bassanio. The lightening bolts that shot back and forth between their eyes were felt in the spines of every member of the audience. When Bassanio looked at Portia from across the stage after opening the lead coffin, all the hairs on my arms stood up.

The clowns fulfilled their destinies admirably. Mark Gmazel's Prince of Aragon must have been inspired by that cinematic triumph, Zorro the Gay Blade. Though the costumes were lavish and lovely, the staging and set were very simple, leaving the audience to focus on the actors rather than the scenery. The only annoyance was Lancelot Gobo, who shouted all his lines with such energy that one got an earache listening to him thunder and reverberate through the auditorium. If his character had any subtlety, I'll never know.

Overall, a stellar production. I was flabbergasted by the quality of the theatre produced on such a scant budget. I spoke with one young man in the audience who had never seen Shakespeare performed before, and when forced to read a Shakespeare play in high school was completely turned off to the whole thing. He confessed that he doesn't read a lot of books, but was surprised that he understood most of what was being said, and even more suprised that it was funny! I'm so glad that he chose to have his first taste of live Shakespeare from the Michigan Shakespeare Festival, and not some crap wannabe company like Waterworks, who suck ass.