|
Reviews of Recent Independent, Foreign, & Documentary Films in Theaters and DVD/Home Video
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
When Shakespeare's Antonio and Shylock first meet in The Merchant of
Venice, Shylock, in an aside to the audience, confesses "I hate
[Antonio] for he is a Christian." In Michael Radford's adaptation of
Shakespeare's play, Shylock's aside is wisely omitted. This Merchant
opens with historical facts about Jews in 17th century Venice flashing
across the screen. Then in a scene added to the film, Antonio (Jeremy
Irons), in public spits on Shylock (Al Pacino). In the light of this scene,
the humiliated and oppressed Shylock comes across as mild and restrained.
Radford makes other changes for similar reasons. In the play, the heroine,
Portia, muses on a Moor, a black suitor who has lost his chance at her hand
in marriage: "Let all of his complexion choose me so." In the movie, the
beautiful and lily-white Lynn Collins as Portia utters nothing so racist.
The makers of The Merchant of Venice are thus to be congratulated.
Merchant was filmed before the release of Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ.
Yet, with a similar potential for controversy, Merchant manages not
to offend. Indeed, it views anti-Semitism and racism through a modern prism,
averse to bigotry and embracing religious diversity.
Even gays have a place in this Merchant. True, Shakespeare scholars
have questioned whether homoerotic tension exists between Antonio and his
best friend Bassiono (Joseph Fiennes). But here the men look longingly into
each other's eyes and plant a kiss on each other, even in Antonio's bedroom.
So there's little question about their relationship. What Merchant
doesn't manage to do, primarily due to lukewarm performances, is engage.
From Al Pacino, we hoped for better. After all, he's fresh from chewing up
the scenery as Roy Cohn in Angels in America. As
Richard II in his own directorial debut, Looking for Richard, he was
mischievously villainous and over-the-top in just the right amounts. It's
disappointing how restrained Pacino is in a similarly dramatic role. When
Shylock bewails his daughter, who's eloped with a Christian, Pacino's highly
trained and resonant voice actually breaks down to a whimper and a whine,
and the manic intensity we've seen in those eyes since The Godfather
is strangely gone. And his accent is a hindrance; it seems to slow the
delivery of his lines to a deadly pace. Pacino does manage to come alive as
the court room scene opens, but trails off again to yet more whimpering.
Irons and Fiennes deliver monochromatic performances practically void of
facial expressions and vocal intonation. Lynn Collins as Portia and Heather
Goldenhersh as Nerissa, Portia's lady-in-waiting, have a few good moments,
particularly in comic scenes. But Nerissa and Shylock's daughter, Jessica
(Zuleikha Robinson), look far too much alike; better casting would have
differentiated them. Disguised as men, Portia and Nerissa's wigs are
laughable and distracting. Collins' delivery of Portia's famous "Quality of
Mercy" speech seems not to want to call attention to itself when, in fact,
it is one of Shakespeare's most beautiful speeches. The music throughout the
trial scene is notable for enhancing the pace and suspense. And much of
the look of the film is appropriately varied, opulent here and grimy there.
The unfortunate exceptions are scenes set in Portia's island abode, Belmont,
which look too pastel and pretty at best, and like a Lord of the
Rings set at worst. Steven Cordova, contributing editor and poet (Slow Dissolve, Momotombo Press)
|
