“Perfectly gaudy, camp, hilarious, breath-taking, and an absolute tonic for this mess of a year we’re all having”
What I wouldn’t give to sit in on the Underbelly’s La Clique audition process. “Next up we’ve got a pink-mulleted saxophonist with a very strong pelvic thrust, after that a laderhosen-loving hoola hooper, and before lunch let’s try and squeeze in the burlesque act who takes her clothes off inside a giant balloon.”
Except of course some of these acts have been performing with La Clique for years, so the audition is probably more like a phone call to a family member to see if they’re coming home for Christmas. And what a family! You’ve got a couple of acrobats, an aerialist, a fire-breathing sword swallower to name only a few, all accompanied by a stellar live band, including our pink-mulleted saxophonist, Leo P.
Creative producer and director David Bates is an expert curator, combining brute skill with heaps of whimsy and showmanship. Each act marries a fairly classic circus skill with rock n’ roll energy and lashings of good humour. The Skating Willers III, for example, are an acrobatic roller-skating duo, spinning around on a terrifyingly small platform, Steph attaching herself with increasing jeopardy around Pierre’s neck as she twists herself into various pretzel-like shapes. They begin with Pierre standing with the band singing Michael Bublé’s cover of ‘Feeling Good’- a double dose of crooning cheese. But Steph struts on stage in the middle of the song in a barely-there checked skirt and suspenders, takes the mic and says, “Fuck Bublé”, collecting Pierre and gliding down on their skates to the front of the stage for a far more entertaining use of his skills. It’s irreverent and cheeky, and yet still showing incredible mastery and prowess. And that’s pretty much how it goes for the evening- we’re laughing, whooping, gasping and gaping in equal measure for two solid hours.
Our host for the evening, Bernie Dieter, is suitably fabulous, making multiple outrageous costume changes, from a gold shimmering jumpsuit, spiked shoulder pads, gold curtain tassels and silver sequined stiletto boots, to an oversized faux fur coat covered in “furry nipple tassels, or tiny furry penises”, she’s not sure which. She is the thread that ties the acts together, adding to that genuinely familial feel which makes this show particularly special. All the acts are also each other’s stage hands, throwing props on stage and hiking up the rigging by hand when someone needs to fly.
A surprising number of acts turn into quasi-strip shows, so, like, don’t bring your kids. But otherwise, I can’t think what else you could possibly require from a Christmas show. Perfectly gaudy, camp, hilarious, breath-taking, and an absolute tonic for this mess of a year we’re all having.
“Alexander’s interpretation has only served to shine a brighter light on the problems of this story, resolving none of them”
At its best, Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice is wildly problematic. But, being so iconic, so confounding and complex, we just can’t simply do away with it. As with so much of Shakespeare, the prose has become idiomatic, and speeches such as Shylock’s heart-crushing, “If you prick us, do we not bleed” could no more be discarded than Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” or Mercucio’s “A curse on both your houses.” But! Be all that as it may, the play remains problematic.
‘Shakespeare in Italy’’s A Merchant in Venice promises a modern take on the old script, cutting the cast and focusing on only six characters and their relationships with one and other, wrestling with “Justice and Mercy, Marriage and Money, Race and Class” and “the tortured nature of love.” A modern take is exactly what this play needs, magnifying the complexities and drawing them out, and throwing away anything that no longer resonates with a contemporary audience. Unfortunately, adaptor and director Bill Alexander has completely wasted this opportunity.
The main thrust of the story is that a rich Venetian, Antonio (John McAndrew), guarantors a loan for his friend Bassanio (Alexander Knox) with moneylender Shylock (Peter Tate), affectionately termed “The Jew” for most of the play. Antonio being his longstanding enemy, Shylock only agrees to the loan on the term that should Antonio fail to repay the loan by its due date, Shylock should be entitled to a pound of Antonio’s flesh. When terrible misfortune causes Antonio to lose all his money, Shylock comes knocking.
With the loss of smaller parts, the remaining characters must carry their burden too. Portia (Lena Robin), for example is left to fend alone in her introductory speech, where once her handmaiden Nerissa would have made it a conversation. Rather than a witty back-and-forth regarding her ridiculous suitors, we’re left with a long, glib ramble, superficially improved by the use of a mobile phone prop in a poor attempt to modernise.
The script has been cut, and in some places, I believe actually rewritten. If you’re going to edit Shakespeare, do so boldly. Instead, the general semi-opacity of Shakespearian English remains, but much of the poeticism is lost. This might also be blamed on the delivery though, so I can’t put it all on the edit. I wasn’t sitting with a script on my lap, so I don’t know for certain what was cut and what wasn’t, only that, perhaps in an attempt to lighten the play’s hefty discussion of endemic racism, the plot has been simplified to goodies and baddies, the Venetians being the goodies, and “The Jew” the baddie. Which ironically makes for a far less modern discussion than is allowed in the unabridged version.
I did briefly wonder whether perhaps I was simply too sensitive to the play’s anti-Semitism, given that Shakespeare was around a pretty long time ago. But, seeing the CLF Art Café’s 2019 production I recall vividly that, despite the confusingly ‘happy’ ending (resolved only by lopping it off and ending with the scene prior), they had done well to flesh out the nuances of the tensions between Antonio and Shylock, highlighting Shylock’s humanity, and the causes of his great bitterness. So, it is absolutely possible to leave this play without feeling somehow complicit.
In a way, the production’s lacklustre design- mostly black costumes and some fold-out chairs- and thoughtless stage set-up- a thrust stage, forcing the performers to show their back to much of the audience when giving their boldest speeches- simplifies things. You’re not missing anything.
The only positive note is that Alex Wilson’s Gratiano, is quite wonderful. His character is rich and complicated, playing the bully and obsequious friend to a tee, despite having very little to work with from the rest of the cast.
Obviously, a lot of people worked hard on this production, and I don’t suggest anyone had deviant or malicious intentions. But it is very much the case that Alexander’s interpretation has only served to shine a brighter light on the problems of this story, resolving none of them. To a large extent it’s a poisoned chalice to begin with. Best leave it alone and pick a less controversial number, like Othello.
