Why is it that any woman playing opposite Joseph Fiennes is forced to dress up like a man?
In Michael Radford’s adaptation of “The Merchant of Venice,” Fiennes, of “Shakespeare In Love” fame, plays Bassanio, a Venetian gentleman who must borrow 3,000 ducats to woo the beautiful Portia, played stunningly by Lynn Collins. His good friend, Antonio, secures the loan from the Jewish moneylender Shylock and the heart of the matter takes shape.
Bassanio eventually wins the heart of Portia, but Antonio is not so lucky. His investments at sea have sunk, leaving him nearly penniless and unable to repay Shylock. Furious over the loss of his daughter to a Christian gentleman, Shylock demands the agreed-upon price a forfeiture — a pound of Antonio’s flesh.
In the end it is Portia’s cunning legal maneuvering, dressed as a young scholarly lawyer, that saves Antonio from his fate, but not even Radford’s refocus of the old tale could save Shylock from his fate — the loss of his property and forced conversion to Christianity.
Shylock has long been one of Shakespeare’s most interesting and difficult characters. Alternately played pathetically or viciously, Shylock can either be seen as a precursor to the ultimately tragic Falstaff or the inherently demonic Iago. Unlike many productions of “The Merchant of Venice,” Radford focuses his film more on the misfortune and mistreatment of the moneylender than the overlying romantic comedy. With Al Pacino’s masterful portrayal of the vengeful Jew, the film brings viewers into Shylock’s fortunes, highlighting Shakespeare’s ironic treatment of anti-Semitism.
Rather than spiteful, Pacino’s Shylock is more understanding, hoping to use the 3,000 ducats to gain favor with Antonio and Bassanio. The bond of a pound of flesh becomes more of a lark not to be collected than a threat.
It is with the disappearance of his daughter, Jessica, that turns Pacino’s Shylock vengeful. Convinced that Antonio had prior knowledge of his daughter’s plans, he slowly fixates on Antonio. Holding the bond mark in his hands, he angrily awaits the day he can call in his debt.
Pacino is brilliant throughout the film. His Shylock is worldly, full of sorrow and anger. His passions become the film — his emotions seep from their scenes and taint the edges of every scene around them.
Like Shakespeare’s play, Radford’s film is disjointed. The juxtaposition between the joy and opulence of Portia’s house and the tragedy unfolding back in Venice is jarring. Through it all, Pacino’s Shylock dominates. It is impossible, even in the midst of Portia’s wit and Bassanio’s happiness, to forget the burning eyes within Shylock’s beard.
No matter the strength of the cinematography and adaptation, the film rises and falls with Shakespeare. The climax comes as Shylock presses his suit against Antonio. With the help of Portia’s legal trickery, Antonio escapes paying his debt and, instead, Shylock is forced to relinquish his holdings and convert to Christianity.
This climax is too early, however, nearly 30 minutes before the end of the play. The remaining scenes, a matter of rings and love between Portia and Bassanio, fall flat with the echo of Shylock’s tears still lingering in the mind. The performances by Collins, who steals the remaining scenes, and Fiennes, who cannot rise above the mediocrity of his character, cannot outweigh the image of Pacino’s Shylock on his knees before the court of Venice.
In the end there is no resolution for the audience, as there is no resolution for Shylock. We are left once again with the image of his eyes, this time sorrowful and heartbreaking as he watches the door of his former synagogue close in front of him.
Radford’s “The Merchant of Venice” won’t win over everyone. It makes no apologies for the inconsistencies and jarring disjointedness of many of the scenes. Yet, for all of its difficulties, it is a remarkable film. In playing up the difficulties, it becomes decidedly tragic, mirroring life and nearly transforming “The Merchant of Venice” into “The Tragedy of Shylock.”
Grade: A/B
