CityLife

The Merchant of Venice

Merchant of Venice - brutal version

ALL-MALE Propeller make this an in-yer-face macho Merchant, setting it in a violent men’s prison, where rival gangs fight for supremacy.

The set is a multi-height affair of clanging bars and mobile cages, surrounding the central prison yard, where much of the action takes place.

A piercing alarm bell denotes the scene divisions and the decibel level is increased by the inmates clanging and banging on the bars.

It’s quite an alarming atmosphere, threatening and claustrophobic, which some of the time suits the sense of the play well, but only some of the time.

Overarching aim

Propeller – based in Newbury, conceived and directed by Edward Hall, Sir Peter’s son – state that their overarching aim is to perform Shakespeare with force and clarity.

Well, there’s certainly plenty of force here but clarity is harder to achieve when such a drastic overlay distracts from the text and continually has you weighing up whether the interpretation is justified or not.

Or whether, if it isn’t justified, it is nonetheless being made to work anyway.

Gender-bending

I’ve found in some previous Propeller productions that the all-male thing is too often simply a distraction. It’s generally OK when everything is light-hearted and frothy.

But here, strong overtones of gender bending and homoeroticism push the play kicking and screaming into areas it was never meant to go.

Portia and her maid Nerissa are cross-dressing male prisoners in fishnets, corsets and high heels – presumably the prison bitches.

Meanwhilewhile Portia’s suitor Bassanio blatantly uses his sexual attractions to persuade merchant Antonio to sub him and even sleeps with Antonio after his marriage to Portia. It’s all very contemporary.

Shockingly gruesome

Performances by the company of 14 are strong, with Richard Clothier’s Shylock a particularly brave piece of work as he is so no-holds-barred nasty – there’s no appeal to sympathy for the poor put-upon Jew here.

And he has one shockingly gruesome moment that produces gasps of horror in the stalls.

After all these years, I’m pretty much immune to stage violence, but even I looked away. You have been warned.

Further performances Thursday afternoon June 11 and Saturday evening June 13.