Al Pacino Delivers the Performance of a Lifetime in The Merchant of Venice

My brother Nathan has been on a Shakespeare kick ever since he found out that a local college would be putting on two Shakespeare plays over the summer. In preparation for the auditions, he immersed himself in several of Shakespeare's notable works, trying to settle on an acceptable monologue. One of his chief options was Shylock's impassioned speech about the iniquities heaped upon him because of his Jewishness. I know I've heard the speech before, or at least several other speeches clearly inspired by it, but I'd never read or watched The Merchant of Venice, so the story was pretty much all new to me when Nathan rented the 2004 film version directed by Michael Radford.

I can't really speak, therefore, to the faithfulness of the adaptation. If it weren't for some remarks made in the making-of features, I might not have even realized that the dialogue was changed, or at least truncated; it certainly sounds like authentic Shakespeare. Which means that although I've certainly studied the Bard as an English major and once devoted an entire semester to his works (as part of the required curriculum), I still had to struggle a little to follow what was going on, and if Nathan hadn't read up on it beforehand, enabling him to explain basic plot points, I might have been a bit lost. Not the movie's fault; when it comes to Shakespeare, I always find myself feeling like a Bear of Little Brain.

But it doesn't take any special intelligence to recognize that Al Pacino gives an exceptional performance as anti-hero Shylock. I'd hesitate to call him a villain, since the movie encourages us to sympathize with him, and Pacino takes every opportunity to make his money-lender as human as possible. The affectations in his voice make him sound like an older, much more bitter Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof. At several points in the film, we see him in abject misery, yowling at his misfortunes, and the effect is gut-wrenching. He's not led a particularly happy life, and after he loses the last element of his existence from which he derives any kind of joy, it sends his sense of vengeance into overdrive. Shylock goes haywire, and the timing couldn't possibly be worse for Antonio (Jeremy Irons), the titular merchant.

That's because Antonio has foolishly agreed to a barbaric bargain proposed by Shylock before his great downturn in fortunes but after Antonio spit on him in the street, an uncharacteristic action in a man who otherwise seems so fundamentally decent. Partly because of his supreme confidence that he would be able to repay his debt almost immediately, partly because the deal is so ludicrous he could hardly believe it to be true, Antonio swore to Shylock that he would give up a pound of his flesh in lieu of interest should he fail to repay the lender's hefty loan on time. Of course, fate intervenes and prevents Antonio from holding up his end of the bargain, so it's flesh-cutting time, and Shylock intends to follow through on his threat.

Meanwhile, Antonio's best friend Bassanio (Joseph Fiennes) has been off seeking and - miraculously, considering the obstacles stacked against him - winning the hand of the beautiful, virtuous Portia (Lynn Collins), a woman of legendary wealth and wisdom whose father, before his death, set in place a complex system by which she had to choose her husband. The choice wasn't really hers, but happily, she ends up with the right guy anyway. But now that she and Bassanio have their happy ending, all the latter can think about is rescuing his dearest friend from his deadly fate. The climactic courtroom scene is a thrilling roller coaster of emotions as poor Antonio's life hangs in the balance, forfeit unless Bassanio and a mysterious, newly arrived judge, who delivers a call to mercy that is just as powerful as Shylock's earlier rant against prejudice, can turn things around.

While Pacino is the clear cast stand-out, all of the actors are excellent, especially Irons, whose gentle eyes speak volumes and whose interaction with the equally accomplished Fiennes holds nothing back in the quest to convince us of the depth of their friendship. I was also quite impressed with Collins' graceful performance of a character who is now probably my favorite Shakespearean heroine. Of the actors in more minor roles, I have to give props to David Harewood for his entirely engaging performance as the gregarious prince of Morocco, who left me grinning throughout the entire sequence in which he attempts to secure Portia's hand.

The fact that this movie's R rating is unrelated to violence, and that it's technically classified as a comedy, didn't stop me from being genuinely concerned for Antonio during the film's final portion, not to mention Shylock, whose tormented soul seems as endangered as Antonio's life. Two and a half hours of Shakespearean dialogue without the possibility of subtitles is probably enough to turn off most teenagers, but the only truly R-rated element in this movie is a couple of brief glimpses of shirtless prostitutes, who appear thus bare-chested as a reflection of the laws of the day, which were intended to ensure that these were actually women and not men in drag catering to a homosexual clientele. They don't really seem to have any relevance to the movie, aside from perhaps indicating, with a wink and a nod, that cross-dressing will later play a part in the unfolding of this drama. Mostly, though, they're just part of the scenery and an indication that Radford did his homework and wanted everyone to know it.

If you're as unfamiliar with the original work as I was, a second viewing might not be a bad idea, or at least a run-through of some of the special features to get more insight into this particular version of the story. Of course, you can always zip over to Wikipedia and get a quick overview of what it's all about. It's worth a little bit of extra effort if that's what's required. It doesn't mean much for me to say this is the best edition of this film I have ever seen, but it seems unlikely I'll find a version to top it. If you're a big Shakespeare fan or have a powerful penchant for Pacino, Radford's The Merchant of Venice is essential viewing.