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STEVEN
SNYDER'S REVIEW
Translating the melodrama of Shakespeare to the screen has always been a precarious undertaking. Curiously, amid the playwright’s exaggerated soliloquies, romance and violence, it is the quieter films that have emerged as the most engaging reworkings of his art.
Perhaps this is because Shakespeare’s plays are mostly known in a theater, where actors must always be conscious to project and amplify every moment. In a movie, however, an intimacy and immediacy can be created, through close-ups, soundtrack and lighting, that can rarely be achieved on a stage.
Hence, each film becomes a reenvisioning.
Just behind Kenneth Branagh’s lush and penetrating “Hamlet” (1996), Michael Radford’s “William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice” is one of the very best screen versions of a Shakespeare work, not only realizing Shakespeare’s words and story, but exposing the themes in this piece that still remain relevant, and poignant centuries later.
Mention “Merchant” to most anyone, and they’ll know about its connection to a pound of flesh. A select few others will know about its central character, Shylock, and the work’s reported anti-Semitism.
But here, Radford has managed to find and nurture the story’s deeper, universally heartbreaking themes. This is a world where people are unable to move in the trajectory of their own choosing, but instead must react and adapt to a world of rules laid down before them.
There are two central stories. Shylock (Al Pacino) is a Jewish broker, engaging in usury – or the unseemly practice of lending money with interest. Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes) is the broke friend of Antonio (Jeremy Irons), both sharing an unacknowledged romantic affection for each other. Bassanio knows the wealthy Portia (Lynn Collins) is looking for suitors, so he convinces the already-strapped Antonio to borrow money from Shylock to fund his quest for Portia’s profitable hand in marriage.
Shylock detests Antonio, seeing him as the personification of the anti-Semitism of this society. Antonio has spit on him in the past, but Shylock agrees to lend him money, if any forfeiture of the bond will be paid by a pound of Antonio’s flesh. When, to make matters worse, Shylock’s daughter goes missing, abandoning him for a Christian mate, the stage is set for a profound struggle between mercy and revenge.
But everything is flipped upside down in this version, the climaxes underplayed and the loud words reduced to whispers. It is managed by a cast that is impeccable without exception. Pacino, who touches upon nearly every emotion possible, deserves an Oscar nomination for this work, helping anyone to understand Shylock’s blood thirst against those who have destroyed his life. Irons gives a similarly haunting and broken performance, and Collins, as Portia, brings a needed burst of playfulness to a story that could have spun into something far too morose.
While Radford keeps Shakespeare’s language, the film is constructed so that every speech is put in context, and its relevance to the greater story understood. And filmed beautifully in and around Venice, Radford creates an atmosphere that wraps the audience into this late-16 th century world of anger and bitterness.
It is in the film’s final few minutes when it transcends most other works. Criticized by some, there is a bizarre bit of humor at the end of “ Venice” that seems out of place amid its anger. But Radford uses Portia’s courtship and a case of mistaken identity to give ‘Venice” an absurd perspective, showing just how little the feelings of Shylock, Antonio, Bassanio or even Shylock’s daughter matter to an upper world that dances on with its trite little games.
It seems that, in this world, to be happy one must be untrue to himself. And late at night, alone with their thoughts, most of these tortured souls realize all they’ve abandoned, and all they’ll never regain.
   
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