Charges of anti-Semitism have been leveled against The Merchant of Venice so many times that it's easy to overlook the play's other problems. An unwieldy mix of comedy and tragedy, the play has some of Shakespeare's least convincing plot twists, as well as some of his most troubling passages. Director Michael Radford's adaptation, titled William Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice for copyright purposes, is a careful, well-mounted version that still may have trouble breaking out of niche markets.
The centerpiece of the play and film is Shylock, the Jewish usurer who is tricked out of his "pound of flesh" by the Venetian aristocracy. It's hard to imagine a more impassioned and yet reasoned interpretation of the role than the one Al Pacino delivers. He masters every nuance of the part with a dignity and cold logic that the rest of the film often lacks.
Shylock's putative adversary is Antonio (Jeremy Irons), an aristocrat who goes into debt to finance the courtship of Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes) and Portia (Lynn Collins), but what's really at question in this film is a society that keeps Jews in ghettos, won't let them own property, and prohibits them from making money. When Antonio is unable to repay his loan, Shylock pursues him in court, convinced that the law will back him. Instead, he receives a harsh lesson in how justice can be perverted.
No matter how cruel, the courtroom scene is a masterpiece of tension, and one of the film's genuine highlights. Radford has a firm grip on much of the romantic plot as well. Portia's suitors must choose among three jeweled caskets to win her hand, leading to some enjoyably broad comedy as well as trenchant commentary on subjects like corrupt religions. As Portia, newcomer Collins is charming and nimble enough to justify the elaborate tests surrounding her betrothal.
Unfortunately, the rest of the film isn't as satisfying. Radford leans too heavily on inserts and reaction shots, perhaps to "explain" the dialogue or animate the material. Why else would he cut away from Shylock during his "Hath not a Jew hands?" speech? (That might also explain the surprising amount of nudity in the film, as well as some heavy-handed innuendo between Antonio and Bassanio.) Radford elicits a measured but curiously passive performance from Irons, and an enthusiastic one from Fiennes, but pays less attention to the rest of the largely unknown cast.
But it's the image of Shylock—by turns shrewd, insistent, vengeful, ultimately humbled—that dominates this film. Only pedants will question Pacino's work here, another triumph in a long and valuable career.
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