Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, March 27, 2007.

Directed by Darko Tresnjak and starring F. Murray Abraham.

There are times when theatre reasserts itself, making it once again an essential ingredient of life; this is the case with the RSC’s current production of Coriolanus - soon to be on tour - as it was with the renowned New York based Theatre For A New Audience’s production of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, which stared the legendary F. Murray Abraham, which, along with Coriolanus at the main house, was the last show to be seen in the Swan, on the 30th March, before the long awaited rebuilding programme begins.

Set in the ‘near future’, which is tomorrow - which never comes of course - this smart, fast-paced, modern-dress production, which kicks off with a grey-suited, obviously wealthy, unsmiling, and seemingly confident merchant, Antonio (played superbly by Tom Nelis), who, for no apparent reason, suddenly starts to question himself - in the company of Salarino and Salanio - amidst the strange silence of a financial trading floor…

In sooth, I know not why I am so sad:
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn…

And learn we did, learn that Shakespeare’s language, once decoded and made new by new thinking, with the application of that new thought used cleanly in this beautifully updated production, directed by Darko Tresnjak (and made even more appropriate by the American accents), that included the subtle use of mobile ‘phones - and the brilliant replacement of caskets by laptops - the, on the whole very young audience, became quickly engaged, and actually take notice of what was going on and being said. The play was, again, seemingly relevant.

Antonio’s worries and sadness were soon explained when we learned that he needs money, has over-stretched himself. We all do it, and if we say we don’t we are either very lucky, or lying. He’s in a spot, needs cash, and, well, in the world of this play, there’s only one man who can help him - Shylock.

Which is strange, because one would have thought that in the world presented to us (even in the near future) there would be banks out there demanding Antonio borrow from them (they demand it of me in this world most days), but no, Shylock is the only hope. And why? Because Antonio has become a bad risk, which is something you realise when you take another look at him, at the cut of his jib so to speak - he is self-indulgent and self-pitying; the world owes him a living, at least according to him.

He is also two-faced, and when Shylock makes his appearance, the cool, calculating, cliff-like, character that F. Murray Abraham’s has created knows this Antonio well, knows his kind better than his own daughter, and quickly reminds our sharp-suited Antonio that…

Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever, cut throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of what is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say
‘Shylock, we would have monies:’ you say
so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold: monies is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say
‘Hath a dog money? is it possible
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman’s key,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness,
Say this;
‘Fair sir, spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn’d me such a day; another time
You call’d me a dog; and for these courtesies
I’ll lend you this much moneys’ ?

In fairness Antonio responds by saying he may very well spit upon Shylock again, and kick him like a dog, but is it not best to lend money to an enemy, the easier to extract the penalty should the venture fail.

And it is in these early exchanges that Shakespeare sets out the complexities, the evils, the duplicities, and the simplicities, of anti-Semitism, of the future horrors perpetrated by the uniformed Antonios’ of this world (as they ‘borrowed’ the money, the spectacles, the shoes, the homes, the department stores, the factories, and the lives of Shylock’s tribe), encapsulated beautifully, and emotionally, in Abraham’s depth of characterisation, in his utter absorption of Shylock. The story of the Jewish people is in that one character, brought alive - for me - for the very first time in a production of this play. I believed every word, every gesture, every demand for his pound of flesh, for the courts to support him, not deny him. I wanted to see Antonio’s heart cut from his body.

In fact, such was the power of Abraham’s performance that the scenes where Portia is confronted by her suitors were both a welcome comic relief from the high tension, but also slightly out of place within such high octane drama. Nevertheless they were superbly well done, with the aforementioned use of laptops and screens, instead of caskets, a simple and effective idea, with Ezra Knight’s Prince of Morroco, and Marc Vietor’s Prince of Arragon, wonderful comic inventions.

Overall the cast of this production were some of the finest young American actors on the scene today, with Kate Forbes’ Portia something of a master class in how to create two characters (Shakespearean cross-dressing) that are wholly believable, although I felt this particular Portia would never have forgiven Saxon Palmer’s Bassanio quite so readily, if at all.

But, if we’re honest, this was F. Murray Abraham’s show, who had the audience spellbound (and the Swan is a very intimate space) every time he walked on stage, with his stillness utterly compelling, and working like a cinematic close-up so that all eyes were focused on him, on every eye movement and muscle twitch, with ears tuned to every syllable, word, and sentence. Such was his power that no one in the audience coughed or moved - in fact they, we, dared not move or cough because Abraham had somehow encompassed us within his Shylock’s demand for justice, within his Shylock’s demand that we listen and take note before evil is done again, that his Shylock’s tribe is not spat upon for using that which is their own.

It was another Oscar winning performance.

For more information about the work done by Theatre For A New Audience, click here.

And for information about the RSC go to their website.