Buy on DVD
|
The Merchant of Venice (2004)
directed
by Michael Radford, starring Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, Joseph Fiennes,
and Lynn Collins
__________________________________________________________________
© 2005 John Murphy
Like The Passion released
a year before, Michael Radford’s film of The
Merchant of Venice is doomed to pre-viewing judgment. Is the
play anti-Semitic? This question resurfaces anytime and anywhere the
play is produced. Renowned lit critic Harold Bloom offered these
memorable words, “One would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb
not to recognize that Shakespeare’s grand, equivocal comedy
is nevertheless a profoundly anti-Semitic work.”
I wonder, then, if this play is so vehemently and inescapably
anti-Semitic, why so many powerhouse actors have jumped at the chance
to play Shylock, a supporting character and Jewish caricature?
Luminaries like Laurence Olivier, George C. Scott, and Dustin Hoffman
have all tackled the part in the past, and now we have Al
Pacino’s take.
Shakespeare was of his time, no question, but his genius transcended
time. It’s almost as though Shylock was originally conceived
as a one-dimensional villain bellowing blood-thirstily for his bond,
only to become something more in the process of writing. I can picture
Shakespeare scribbling away with his feathered quill, the ghost of
Marlowe’s Jew of Malta
over his shoulder, and happening upon the line, “Hath not a
Jew eyes?” and Eureka!
One of the most breathtaking, heartbreaking, and humane passages in the
canon of world literature emerges…but maybe that’s
romanticizing the old Bard just a bit.
However it happened, we’re left with a play listed as one of
Shakespeare’s “comedies,” but which is
hardly a light-hearted romp. It’s a haunting piece of work
and this most recent production is, significantly, the first cinematic
adaptation since the silent era (excluding TV versions). Why the dearth
when Shakespeare has consistently been one of Hollywood’s
most popular screenwriters?
Perhaps the proof is in the pudding. The
Merchant of Venice is uncomfortable to watch, shifting
incongruously from sunny broad comedy (the various misguided courtships
of Portia) to dark and brooding tragedy (the scenes with Shylock).
Audience discomfort is not a mark of a bad production, however. Far
from it. Radford’s film is a resounding success because it is
a relatively straightforward adaptation of the play. Radford avoids a
strictly polemical interpretation and thereby refuses to let his
audience off the hook. He takes the Bard on his own problematic terms
and we, the groundlings, are left to decide what to take away from the
experience.
Shaggy-bearded Pacino, his lined face a time-worn monument, makes for
an intensely compelling Shylock. He doesn’t cater to PC
trends and bend-over-backwards to soften Shylock or make him more
“likable.” This is a fierce, irascible, angry, and
resentful individual. He has plenty of reasons to be. Title cards at
the film’s beginning create a historical context for the
plot. In
Venice circa 1596, Jews were
prohibited by law to own property and lived under Christian
lock-and-key in the city’s ghetto. Thus, lending money at
interest provided one of their few means of self-support, since
“usury” was against Christian law. Shylock is one
of these much maligned money-lenders. A prologue shows Shylock spit on
by Antonio, the play’s Christian counterpart, the titular
Merchant of Venice.
Shylock looms large in our collective imagination, but revisiting the
play reinforces how small his part actually is. So who is the main
character? Portia? Bassanio? The merchant of the title? They seem
vacuous and insignificant next to Shylock’s personal drama.
Can it be true, as Bloom posits, that Shylock must be played as a comic
villain for the play to work? I’m not convinced.
Here Shylock is human, certainly, and to a certain degree sympathetic.
Pacino’s performance is admirably restrained; he plays his
character close-to-the-chest and chooses strategic moments to let loose
his fury. And when he does, watch out. Pacino’s passionate
reading of Shylock’s famous speech (and one of the most
famous in literature) is wrenching and revelatory, all the more for
Pacino’s relatively understated delivery. “If you
prick us, do we not bleed?” has become a go-to rallying cry
for all victims of prejudice and oppression; but Pacino
doesn’t say the words like he’s reading them off
stone tablet cue cards. Shylock’s wounded pride and bitter
resentment come through. In some ways I was reminded of
Pacino’s equally low-simmer approach to playing Michael
Corleone. By the time of the climactic trial scene, it’s
clear that Shylock has been stewing in his hatred too long; compassion
has been wrung from him through years of abuse, bigotry, and
persecution. He demands his bond with chilling resolve.
There’s no scenery chewing here.
Though Shylock is the source of the play’s controversy, and
its most memorable character, Radford’s film brings the other
characters into clear relief. Joseph Fiennes acquits himself well as
Bassanio, the one-time playboy, now smitten suitor to Portia, and
catalyst for the play’s events. Fiennes smolders well;
recalling his earthy and passionate Will from Shakespeare
in Love from a few years back.
The object of
Bassanio’s affection, Portia, is played by relative newcomer,
Lynn Collins. Her Pre-Raphaelite beauty, easy command of the language,
and knack for timing, both dramatic and comedic, all mark her as a star
of tomorrow. She impressively avoids the potential pitfalls of the
play’s penultimate trial scene (where Portia impersonates a
young male lawyer) by sidestepping any arch postmodern self-awareness:
she doesn’t wink at the audience or strain for effect. She
convinces.
And, as a 21 year old male, I confess she’s not hard to look
at.
Jeremy Irons is one of the best actors working today--his performance
in Cronenberg’s Dead Ringers
will always haunt me--and here he manages to “flesh
out,” ahem, a character with whom it is typically impossible
to sympathize, Antonio. Irons has aged wonderfully. His face, like
Pacino’s, communicates a sense of history and consequent
world-weariness, and his rich voice delivers Shakespeare’s
words in a way both natural and poetic, conversational and elevated.
Antonio is flawed (the guy’s an unapologetic bigot), but is
also a loyal, genuinely besotted, friend to Bassanio. Despite his
drawbacks, he’s an effective foil to Shylock.
Apart from the performances,
the movie looks great. Of course, Venice, a
crumbling dream city, just has to be to
look great. The costumes are worn, lived-in. The actors’
pasty faces and unkempt hair suggest the absence of indoor plumbing.
Scenes have the dramatic chiaroscuro
appropriate to a dim, candle-lit world. Jocelyn Pook’s score
is atmospheric and as effectively time-bound as the material itself.
Speaking of time-bound,
it’s worth mentioning that the audience with whom I saw this
movie collectively gasped when Antonio demands Shylock’s
conversion to Christianity as part of his penance. I have little doubt
that the original Elizabethan audience cheered. Times change. And
Shakespeare is still relevant, still resonant, still frustrating. We
may not always like what he has to say (if we’re arrogant
enough to assume we know what
he’s saying), but there’s no doubt that
Shakespeare’s genius is too palpable to be dismissed.
For that reason alone this
movie is worth seeing. If you’re a Shakespeare fan, see it.
If you’re a Pacino fan, see it. But be prepared to leave
unsatisfied, rankled, and scratching your head. I think
that’s a compliment to the production.
View a trailer and portions of several scenes.
|
