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DRAMA-LOGUE
While one should always be wary of comtemporized Shakespeare
without the language, Todd Alcott's A Pound of Flesh tips the scales favorably. Trimming
all the gristle from The Merchant of Venice, he effectively seasons his completely
rewritten script into digestible modern verse. Briskly intermissionless, the sizzling
strips of scene work barely add or subtract from the salient poits of the Bard's
intention. With invigorating imagery, he presents the ready-to-eat issues and even
overcomes some weaknesses from the original.
Merchant is about Antonio, who takes a loan from Shylock. For
various reasons, the lender refuses any interest but requires a default payment bond of a
pound of flessh. The loan is for Antonio's loving friend, Bassanio, who seeks to woo the
wealthy Portia. After Shylock's daughter betrays him and Antonio defaults on the loan
Shylock tries to enforce the bond. However, through a tricky, but strict, application of
the law, Shylock loses nearly everything he has. Preparing only a handful of original
ideas, Alcott takes no sides in the argument, serving up the characters as the villainous
humans they are. Shylock and family are persecuted Venetian Jews, while the rest are
dubious Chrsitians. The play examines the value of life, love and humanity in the face of
racist materialism.
Both the inspiration and the adaptation filet our culture with pertinent
symbolism. Sadly, Alcott diets Portia's unethical assistance of her lover's box
choice and skimps the first course of Antonio's homosexual infatuation for
Bassanio. Instaead, he offers a sweet dessert of "Jessica" that evens
the odds. Grace Renn's heart succinctly fleshes out the small daughter's role.
Gerald McClanahan and Vince DonVito are tasty in an original scene skewering the
inherent racism of our society. Adam Bitterman, as Shylock, is so particularly
powerful the he solicits a range of sympathy. From shamed admiration and
emulation to even an elusively masculine sexuality, his fierce, eloquent defense
is compelling. Melanie Hall and Danielle Surrette are a delightfully corrupt
Betty and Veronica of the Hamptons, garnishing the stage with their flavored
energy. Smartly cast, all the actors weigh in with skill and precision. Jonathan
Goldstein, as the title character, deftly walks the line of a hero that isn't.
Christopher Northrup's Bassanio salts L.A. culture with accuracy. His sidekick,
Dan Etheridge as Gratiano, is a peppered Jimmy Durante for the '90's. Rob
D'Entremont is easy to swallow as Lorenzo and Mark Lifrieri carefully
complements as a modern chorus. None of the technical elements interfere with
the clear direction of the concept. David Holcomb's set is bare but functional,
as Perry Ash's costumes are smooth and accurate. However, Dan Reeds' lighting is
quite creative. Without color, he angles the beams from the side and back to
thereaten the tenuous mood of this new classic.
-Reed Jordan, ©1997 DramaLogue
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LA WEEKLY
Although evidence suggests that Shakespeare clearly inetended
Shylock, the avaricious and stereotypically Jewish moneylender from The Merchant of
Venice, to be a villain, modern productions tend to turn him into the play's tragic hero.
In his retelling of the comedy, writer-director Todd Alcott goes one step further. Here,
"the Jew" is the only sympatehetic character on the stage -- and this means that
by the end you actually find yourself rooting for Adam Bitterman's wise, cynical and, at
times, heartbreaking Shylock to slice the "pound of flesh" (if not much more)
from his enemy Antonio (Jonathan Goldstein).
Adapter Alcott follows Shakespeare's basic plot precisely,
while jettisoning the original verse for his jazzy, breezy contemporary language. It's a
risky decision which has mixed results; at first, the production seems pompous, since
we're left with the impression that the adapter arrogantly considers himself on a par with
the Bard. However, as the piece unflolds, Alcott demonstrates a powerful gift for
language, and the glib, bracing quality of the dialogue amplifies the play's underlying
themes of brutality, hostilty and bigotry. Still, while the ensemble's performances are
rich in adroitly executed personality and depth, Alcott is not able to make the play's
protagonists worth redeeming -- something Shakespeare does effortlessly.
- Paul Birchall, ©1997 LA Weekly
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BACKSTAGE WEST
This Sacred Fools production achieves a great deal. Writer
Todd Alcott has taken Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice and made it his own. Using the same
story and the same characters, he's written a lively, engaging play that takes no
prisoners. Often, the anti-Semitism of Merchant is downplayed, glossed over; Alcott's
adaptation throws it in your face. But he doesn't judge his characters; instead, he puts
them on the stage, ugliness and all, and lets us decide for ourselves. Alcott directs as
well, and that's where the play becomes a bit frayed. The staging is both stiff and
frenetic, and important moments in the play aren't given the time they deserve. Lost in
the shuffle are some good performances: Portia (Melanie Hall) and Nerissa (Danielle
Surrette), for example, are quite energetic and fun, but in the frenzy one often can't
hear what they're saying, and the performances get blurry. In the quieter scenes, however,
Hall is impressive. Even the show's two standout performances -- Jonathan Goldstein as the
world-weary Antonio, and Adam Bitterman's Shylock, bristling with anger and pain -- would
be helped by an occasional downshift in pace Gerald McClanahan and Vince DonVito are
hilarious as the rejected suitors Morocco and Aragon, respectively. Bassanio (Christoipher
Northrup) and his pals Gratiano (Dan Etheridge) and Lorenzo (Rob
d'Entremont), on the
other hand, are charmless and irritating. Rounding out the cast with respectable
performances are Grace Renn and Jessica and Mark Lifrieri as Salerio. David Holcomb's set
is very minimal, which works well with Dan Reed's stark, haunting lighting design. In all
it's a good production -- so let us savor it a bit more and slow it down, guys.
- Alan Clark, ©1997 Backstage West
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WRITING - Todd Alcott