The Merchant of Venice 8/10

(This review assumes a basic knowledge of the story and so may be thought of as containing spoilers to anyone unfamiliar with the plot.)

As a film version of the famous Shakespeare play, Merchant of Venice does what few adaptations have done since Polanski's rather gritty Macbeth: it takes the spirit of the play and brings it out not just as well as, but better than the play alone could readily achieve. 

Lord of the Rings Director, Peter Jackson, has argued that in adapting a book or play there are three options: attempt to replicate the original as perfectly as possible, use the original idea as an inspiration but take full license for cinematic change, or (the one he avowedly preferred) stick to the original as much as is cinematic ally viable but make such changes as are necessary for the film and while remaining faithful to the intention or spirit of the original.

In Macbeth, Polanski used the rain-sodden beaches and realistic rapes and murder to convey what a bloody and horrific period the play was set in, thus bringing to mind the horrific context in which the characters make such ill-advised decisions. It differs from (say) Branagh's Hamlet, which achieved new heights of faithful rendition, but otherwise offered little new. Macbeth, on the other hand, maybe enabled audiences fresh to Shakespeare to appreciate some of the drama's fullness without extensive study; similarly, more familiar audiences might find a greater depth than the unaided stage performance could accomplish. Such interpretation plays a vital part if audiences are to fully engage, not only intellectually but also emotionally, with the points Shakespeare wanted to make.

Radford's adaptation of Merchant of Venice does just this. It takes crucial moral dilemmas involving religious bigotry or the keeping promises and, with minimal messing of the Bard's holy tome, conveys them faithfully within the spirit of the original story.

The first of these, religious bigotry, gives meaning to Shylock's otherwise outlandish behaviour. We see the Jews of the period relegated to a walled ghetto, only allowed out if wearing an identifying red cap. Not being allowed to own property, one of the few ways they can earn a living is by money-lending. This makes them both useful to their Christian oppressors and at the same time the object of their vilification. The idea behind (both old and new testament) biblical prohibitions against usury probably stems from not making a profit by helping one's friends. This is extended by the bigoted Christians to curse those they spit on (we see Shylock not only spit on, but fellow Jews thrown into the waterways for sport - in an atmosphere that can only be described as threatening).

The topicality of the film is curious, since the bigotry of right wing Christianity (as personified by Bush-following Americans) has turned full circle, as they are now the main supporters of Zionism, and the Jewish political leaders bite at their Palestinian neighbors much as Shylock tries to bite at Antonio (once he thinks the law gives him the power to do so). The psychology is self-evident - kick a dog repeatedly and it will become vicious. The circle easily continues as the victims of oppression themselves easily lose their sense of moral values and become oppressors.

The stringent sleight of hand that the disguised Portia uses to save Antonio has some merit, both as a clever interpretation of the unsophisticated law that the Venetians of the play so rue and also as a moral pointer. Shylock may 'have his pound of flesh' according to his contract, but may not have any blood. An easy analogy could be made as far as warfare and terrorism goes - it is much easier to justify fighting among combatants or attacking ill-doers if soldiers or evil-doers are the only victims - when there is massive collateral damage, as when innocent citizens, including women and children, are killed in their hundreds, the warmongers' arguments (whether those warmongers be Israeli, Palestinian or US American) carry far less popular support. 

There has long been much argument whether Shakespeare was being anti-Semitic in this story. One wonders if he had to adapt the ending for a largely Christian audience who had little dealing with Jewish people. Far from teaching him a greater good, the ending enforces Christianity and humiliation upon Shylock - a course likely simply to perpetuate pent up resentment. Both camps look just as bad - one simply holds more power than the other. The slight amelioration of the judgment simply gives the Christian judges a better public image, or as Bassanio so acutely (observes when choosing the caskets and solving the riddles to win Portia's hand):

In religion, What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

Of course, the bigotry applies to organised religion (rather than spirituality), especially when organised for political purposes, but one that easily goads ordinary god-fearing people who are not in the habit of splitting hairs. The kindness, mercy ('Chesed' in Judaism) which is so fundamental to true Christianity, is something also practiced to a wonderful degree in Judaism as in most creeds. The Jewish faith distinguishes between kindness and charity, ways of practicing both effectively, and ways of making it part of one's being rather than just an outward show. Both Shylock and Antonio are bigoted and use their respective faiths to abuse those of another faith. While Shakespeare maybe pointed up the chasm between the goodness prescribed by different faiths and its absence in practice, the film version reduces much of the window for interpretations of anti-Semitism and brings a greater degree of realism to the psychological causes.

The keeping of promises (the men to their wives) is dealt with less well, as are the comic elements inherent in the cross-dressing sub-plots. Bassanio, however strong his love for Antonio (are there homosexual elements there?) cannot make sound moral judgements when showing his gratitude to the 'judge', and so breaks his promise (for which Portia forgives him, displaying a triumphal character for women, not only as supremely intelligent and witty but also as more truly merciful and considerate of others than her bigoted male counterparts, including her husband.)

Some of the acting is a bit stilted, and there are too many regional (English) accents, but on the whole Merchant of Venice delivers a fresh and rewarding reworking of Shakespeare. I enjoyed the acting, and also the very beautiful soundtrack by Hayley Westenra and others, singing ballads penned both by Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe. All in all, Merchant of Venice is a not inconsiderable achievement of British (as far as any film can be said to be of a particular nationality these days) cinematic tradition.

Sentiment: positive