Theater review | A stellar Shylock in "Merchant of Venice" set in the 1920s

Theater Review |

"The Merchant of Venice" is one of William Shakespeare's "problem comedies," blending farcical proceedings with sobering content in a manner that challenges any director to find a way to make its contradictory tones hang together coherently. An even thornier "problem" for the director: deciding if it's commenting on anti-Semitism, perpetrating the worst anti-Semitic stereotypes or exploring some middle ground where mutual cultural contempt and bigotry meet and clash.

John Langs, the director of Seattle Shakespeare Company's fine, punchy production of "Merchant" takes this third, more ambiguous route through the play, which is anchored by Charles Leggett's extraordinary performance as Shylock, the Jewish moneylender snarled in an ugly deal with Antonio, the disdainful Christian merchant of the title (played by Mark Chamberlin).

Leggett plays Shylock as a canny, tradition-bound Jew, living with a painful sense of irony in a society that scorns him, yet has a use for him. He's driven by a wish to keep the tenets of his faith, yet yearns to be accepted by his fellow Venetians, who make their animosity toward him unmistakably clear. When loss and betrayal overwhelm him, he crosses a line — and soon is mired in the costs of becoming too enemy-obsessed.

Director Langs plunks his Shylock down in a 1920s world where financial profligacy and drunken partying (to zesty ragtime music) are the rule. Langs, who directed the hyper-stylized "Adding Machine" at ACT Theatre last year, employs similar stage techniques to similarly bracing effect here, especially when it comes to the obnoxious, pinstriped, commodities-exchange boys surrounding Antonio. Though Chamberlin's Antonio is a subdued and even cold character, his cohorts are a jumpy, kinetic, catcalling chorus, distinguished by their sharp moves and crisp timing. They have attitude to spare — especially Troy Fischnaller as the boisterous, combative Gratiano.

Bassanio (Will Beinbrink), recipient of the loan finessed by Antonio, makes a less distinct impression. He needs the money to woo wealthy Portia (a vibrantly witty Klea Scott, the wife of director Langs). Why does he love her? Because she's a catch — smart, elegant and rich to boot. What does Portia see in Bassanio? That's hard to say. Under the complex nuptial provisions her late father has set up for her, she has certainly encountered some losers (including Fischnaller, doing double duty as a gold-hungry Moroccan prince). But a more seductive Bassanio might have made Portia's crush on him more persuasive.

There's an echo of Bassanio's gold-digging in the elopement of his friend Lorenzo (Michael Place) with Shylock's daughter Jessica (Melanie Moser), whom he persuades to steal her father's fortune. Jessica also presents a problem that Langs hasn't quite solved. We need more clues to her thoughtless nature earlier on, to make her shocking act more comprehensible. Running away from her stern father is one thing; theft is another.

These are quibbles, however, handily outweighed by Scott's tart-tongued, champagne-swigging Portia and Langs' cabaret-style staging, with its sly echoes of our own rocky economic times. Jennifer Zeyl's spare yet fluid scenic design and John Osebold's artful musical score also feed the energy and momentum of this production. But it's Leggett — as a man of faith, embittered by experience, who loses everything in his fight for what he sees as his — who makes this a truly stellar "Merchant."

Michael Upchurch: mupchurch@seattletimes.com