Tuesday 23rd – Saturday 27th. 7.45 with a 2.30 matinee on Saturday at The ADC Theatre. £6.9.
Directed by Patrick Garety.
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The lights rose on a woman in peacock blue singing sultry jazz to a live piano, in a smoky, run down bar. Gentlemen in pinstripe trousers and bowler hats drowned their sorrows and piled up their debts with tumblers of whiskey and endless cigarettes. ‘Filmic’ cannot begin describe how gorgeous this production was. From the ornate furnishings of Portia’s stately home, and the spiffy suits and glamorous dresses, to the dank sparseness of Shylock’s office and the uniformed formality of the Venetian fascist court, not to mention the beautiful cast, the whole play looked so yummy I wanted to eat it all up. But as the Prince of Morocco famously reminds us in this show “all that glisters is not gold”. Basically, something can look great and still be rubbish. Happily for Patrick Garety and his talented cast, this was far from the case on Tuesday night at the ADC.
For those who haven’t already studied this particular work of the Bard for GCSE, here’s what happens. Fit girl called Portia’s rich Dad dies, and his will says she can only marry the guy that chooses the right chest of three, one gold, one silver, one lead. Bassanio really fancies Portia, but has no money to make the journey to have a go, so good guy Antonio says he’ll guarantee a loan from nasty Jewish moneylender Shylock. Shylock’s a meany, and it’s all very difficult, but basically whoever is young, Christian and in love wins in the end. Ah yes, I should mention the Jewish thing.
Photos: Tim Johns - www.timjohns.co.uk
This production makes the not unusual, but still effective choice to set the play in 1930s fascist Italy to highlight its famous anti-Semitism. The hostility is palpable: Shylock is cornered on the street by suited thugs, the court scene was vicious, with Shylock sharpening a knife throughout, and there is a token joke about big noses. Theo Chester’s tight lipped, sour faced, cold, controlled Shylock gave real humanity to a character often played more like an ogre, and this subtle approach rekindled the old debate on what Will Shakespeare was trying to say. Does he hate the Jews? Or is he mocking the people that hate the Jews? Great stuff. Only complaint is that given that everyone else was perfectly cast looks wise (Portia really is hot, the servant is black, Bassanio is a rugger bugger, Jessica has loads of dark curly hair) their Shylock was the most Aryan I’ve ever seen.
Reservations on nose size aside, this was a seriously slick production. Ned Carpenter (Antonio) was clearly made for Shakespeare, he spoke iambic pentameter as fluently as if he was chatting to mates in the pub. I forgive Antonia Eklund as Portia for showing first night nerves with a few fluffed lines and going too fast sometimes for her great girly gossipy scene with her maid Narissa, and just for being so darn beautiful. Granted Luke Rajah as Bassanio the romantic lead only had one move: shaking someone by the shoulder, but Bassanio is supposed to be a bit simple anyway, so I think they got away with that one.
I’m picking holes. It was fantastic. The story flowed perfectly. The physical acting was so clear you could probably get the plot if you were deaf, let alone not that comfortable with Shakespeare. The staging was clever, dynamic, never lazy. Big group scenes had tonnes of energy, and when it gets all girly and soppy at the end you feel all gooey inside. Young lovers played by Rob Willoughby and Sophia Sibthorpe actually had chemistry (that never happens in a student production) and parts were funny, funny, funny. Harry Carr’s geeky Launcelot made the audience yelp with laughter. Girls: go because it’s basically a really good chick flick. Boys: go because, have I mentioned Portia is fit? Everyone else, go see it because it’s great.





Not to be rude, but is this a joke? I can't decide which is worse – the review, or the play. They are two of the most embarrassing things I have ever been subjected to.
Unfortunately, nothing could save this version of 'Merchant of Venice': I regret to say that poor acting, shabby set and shambolic scene changes were amongst the highlights of this car-crash production.
Rest assured though, the play has been more than eclipsed by this web-based disaster. I'm not sure what the reviewer was thinking with this summation: 'Girls: go because it’s basically a really good chick flick. Boys: go because, have I mentioned Portia is fit?'
Anna: go see some more theatre, it might be helpful. Start with another ticket for 'Merchant of Venice', I'm not sure what you were watching.
I should have cared about the clunky scene changes…
But Portia was just too damn fit. She can take a pound of my flesh any day!
Nice review. x
Pics or she isn't real.
Got to love them self-righteous who cannot but help voice their criticism nor accept another's subjective opinion. Chill, "Anon"
Haha – this anon should definitely quit doling out advice and go and see some more theatre themselves. Obviously not seen enough if this show counts as one of the most "embarrassing things" they've seen. 4.5 stars may be a little generous, but it's definitely nowhere near as disastrous as our friend anon, or TCS or Varsity make out. Go and see!
anti-semitism didn't exist. It was something else. You can't use that word regarding The Merchant of Venice, and you can't ask what a play says, only what it says to you.
You should probably go bang Portia.
Have to say, I agree with "Anon".
I agree with 'Anon' – how many times do we need to be told Portia was 'fit'? Yeah, a beautiful girl and maybe worth a mention, but the shocking writing and repetition of this article makes such a compliment completely degrading.
Chick flick? 4.5 stars? Get out more, mate.
She was well fit dough.
[...] consistent inversion of almost all of TCS and Varsity’s ratings, our favourite theatre was The Merchant of Venice and least, Loving Leticia, proving that student journalism in Cambridge caters for those of all [...]
agree with Anon, useless review(er). Not a bad play though, but this review insults it with such patronising language