Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice is a sinister sort of comedy. Antonio, a wealthy merchant whose monies are invested in risky ventures overseas, lends out the sum of 3,000 ducats so that his friend Bassanio can court the rich heiress Portia. To get the cash, Antonio must borrow it from the Jewish moneylender Shylock. Shylock agrees to lend him the sum for three months but demands as his bond a pound of Antonio's flesh. A contract is drawn up, signed and sealed, and misery descends on both parties. The mutual hatred bound up in a loan under the laws of Venice boils over. Shylock's daughter Jessica falls in love with the Christian Lorenzo and abandons her father. As reports trickle in that Antonio's ships are all lost at sea, Shylock becomes more and more wrapped up in his desire for vengeance and his determination to exact his grisly bond from the merchant.

It is surprising, then, to see this play performed by Hillel Drama. In a daring move, director Josh Edelman '00 and producer Ari VanderWalde '00 set out to confront this "blatantly anti-semitic show" and strip it of all pretensions of heroism or resolution. Their production revolves around Shylock, played by Tim Foley '98. He is a tall, grave man whose dignity is slowly eroded by a festering hatred of the Christians who persecute his nation. He becomes a sort of tragic hero, bound to the stereotype of the Jewish usurer, who can only mourn the loss of his daughter by mourning the money she takes with her in her flight. Foley commands the attention of his audience, charging his "hath not a Jew eyes" soliloquy with a vindictive conviction, skillfully opening up Shylock as a man who has learned hatred from hatred; whose suffering is channeled into vengeance.

Across from Shylock are Antonio and Bassiano, played by Joe Nuccio '00 and Jay Chaffin '01. They are portrayed as unheroically as possible. Simpering and effeminate, Antonio hides himself behind the props of gloves and an ornate, scepter-like stick. Bassanio manages to rise from a state of dogged ineffectiveness for only a brief moment in his courtship with a stirring monologue condemning ostentation. The reversal of the hero roles in The Merchant of Venice, though effective and interesting, is at times taken a bit too far. When Bassanio throws himself at Portia's feet--kicking and yammering petulantly for her forgiveness--one senses that Edelman may have been too diligent in his revision.

But on the other hand, the fact is that Portia is worth it. Tegan Shohet '01 seems to take a new delight in every scene she is in, navigating Shakespeare's pentameter flawlessly and bringing out its comedy. Her tireless work in this production helps it steer clear of unnecessary angst or belligerent darkness.

Another keystone in the cast is Gratiano, Bassanio's friend played by David Joffe '00. He imbues the production with a delightful and slightly anachronistic bawdy energy. His effortless movements from good natured lewdness to an extreme violence of anti-Semitism are startling and disconcerting, stressing the hatred that paves the way for Shylock's implacable lust for revenge.

It is deeply ironic, actually, that Shakespeare chooses to cast his antagonist in the stereotypical role of the miser. As the play progresses, we see the stereotype reflected onto its creators as money reveals itself to be the foundation for their actions. Antonio's friendship with Bassanio is the relationship between benefactor and courtesan. Bassanio's love for Portia is linked to the fortune she will bring him, and even the marriage between Bassanio's man Gratiano and Portia's maid Nerissa (Catherine Crow HGSE '99) is contingent upon their employers' financial union. The Christians themselves embody the gross materialism they condemn in Shylock, and it taints even the "pure" love of Jessica (Shira Palmer-Sherman '02) and Lorenzo (Gregory David '99). Shakespeare's mockery of closure cannot be reached until an inheritance for these two is forced from Jessica's father and Antonio's ships are recovered safely.

Edelman's set works effectively to underline this theme of materialism. It seems at first ridiculously simple, consisting only of a large box and the three caskets that contain the key to Portia's fortune. These caskets, the very symbols of greed arranged and rearranged into the various settings of the play gradually drive home the inconsistencies in the Venetians' ideals.

The Merchant of Venice works up from its simple beginning, whirling through widening spirals of hatred and loss. A strange, contradictory suspense builds throughout the play, and the judgment scene in which Shylock calls in his bond before the law is riveting. Hillel Drama, through its shrewd interpretation of Shakespeare's work, uncovers the ironies and contradictions in the text, creating a true and more effective production.