Merchant of Venice
As a young girl in high school I recall studying several of William Shakespeare's plays. One of them was The Merchant of Venice. The dreadful figure of the Jewish character Shylock as portrayed in the play alongside the sterling characters of the Christian nobility utterly shocked me.
As a child I had been baited by other children because I was a Jewish child. I had been, on occasion, reminded, lest I forget from previous accusations, that I was a Christ-killer. I was by no means the only child of my acquaintance who had thus suffered, for I knew other Jewish children, some of whom were even in my class at school, and none of whom I was particularly friendly with. My parents were secular and when other children stayed home for the Jewish High Holidays, I did not, and I was embarrassed by this. Although I did not quite understand the distinction between religious observance and secular Judaism, I felt myself to be a proud Jewish child, proud to be Jewish. Still, I was left out of the picture, as it were, not one with the other non-Jewish children, not belonging to the faction reflecting the religious upbringing of the other Jewish children; a loner. Ah, but wasn't I shocked one morning to see one of the little Jewish girls crying and to be told, on enquiry, that she was crying because she didn't want to be Jewish. Impossible, I thought, just not possible for someone who is Jewish to wish to be other than that.
I was also a child who adored books, who read incessantly. I admired the great playwright, even as a young child, for children have great open ears, and as my parents were also bookish, his name was not unknown to me. Yet, how could he write in such a manner of Jews? It was only later, as I grew older, and studied the text that I realized that anyone who could write the plaintive plea arguing that he, Shylock, was also human was no anti-Semite: "I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? revenge: if a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his suffering be by Christian example? why, revenge. The villainy you teach me I will execute; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction". The great man was, instead, attempting through the genius of his pen, to make his readers understand that differences between people can be respected, not rejected, that in the final analysis we are one and the same.
Last night, finally, we watched the film version of "Merchant of Venice" starring Robert deNiro and Jeremy Irons. What a wonderful treat. What a marvellous film. As a theatrical period piece it was superb. As a tribute to the illustrious playwright, I do believe he would have approved. The brilliantly-shot scenes of Venice were candy for the eye. The canals, palaces, gondolas, gowns and outfits were unsurpassed for scene-setting. The scenarios whereby it was made abundantly clear prior to the onset of the story itself -- which illustrated the societal contempt in which Jews were held -- set the tone and the stage for what was to follow in the most brilliant and empathetic manner.
Robert deNiro's role as Shylock the money-lending Jew would have been a challenge for anyone, but he took this part and made it his own. I seriously doubt anyone could ever surpass this man's acting in this particular role. His visual appearance, his body language, his obvious anguish at the misery of his position, his outrage, his bitter search for vengeance were all graphically and masterfully conveyed by this veteran actor. In short, he was, in the role, the most believable of personages, and homage is due him for a truly superb performance.
Jeremy Irons played a passable aristocrat in Antonio, the man who was a man of his time, an elevated citizen of Venice, a merchant of means, a respected man of influence. This character casually spits upon the near physical presence of a hated Jew-figure, in this instance, that of Shylock, the money-lender. Yet he does not hesitate to turn to him for a bridging loan until, literally, his 'ships come in'. Irons is a good, solid actor, possessed of a stolid repertoire of facial expressions and physical gravitas; less an actor than a predictable presence.
DeNiro carried this film by his immense presence, his charismatic understanding of the person he was to portray, the historical Jew of ill social repute, part of a despised clan to whom the church-prohibited position of money-lender was granted in lieu of an honest livelihood. The supporting actors were too self-conscious, even at times bumptious (in keeping with the comedic aspects, slight though they be, in the play) and entirely too precious for reality.
posted by Pieface @ Monday, July 11, 2005
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