You come to see Al Pacino, but you stay for Lily Rabe.
As the Jewish moneylender Shylock, one of theater’s most complex, reviled roles, Pacino has made the Public Theater “Merchant of Venice” a blockbuster hit — first in Central Park this summer, now on Broadway for a limited run. Yet it’s Rabe who leaves a lasting impression. Bringing illuminating insights to the headstrong heiress Portia, the young actress is the production’s real treasure.
Under Daniel Sullivan’s direction, “The Merchant of Venice” is fast-paced, engaging, accessible. But by moving indoors, it’s also acquired a darker hue.
The somber moments feel even more claustrophobic and gloomy because the Broadhurst’s stage is much smaller than the one in the park — Mark Wendland’s wrought-iron set has even acquired a sinister edge, like a cage.
Yet Pacino has gone bigger, unnecessarily turning up the volume since the summer, and losing subtlety in the process.
Looking bedraggled, his shirt half hanging from his shapeless pants, Shylock makes a pitiful figure next to the Christian establishment, haughty tormentors in crisply pressed suits and spotless spats. That Shylock would channel his humiliation and disappointment into vengeful rage is understandable, if not excusable. But does it need to be so obvious?
Typical is Shylock’s famous “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” speech, which Pacino starts in soft-spoken pain before switching to a saliva-projecting bellow. It’s acting with a capital A, and a more conventional way to express anger.
Some of the cast changes work (Christopher Fitzgerald is nicely subdued as Launcelot Gobbo), others are less convincing (Charles Kimbrough pales compared to Max Wright as the Prince of Arragon).
What remains intact — perhaps even stronger — is Portia’s vibrant intelligence and grace.
She falls for Bassanio (David Harbour), a handsome doofus whose loyalty really lies with his friend Antonio (Byron Jennings, excellent as a repressed patrician). As quick-witted as she is beautiful, Portia helps them triumph in their conflict with Shylock.
But that doesn’t mean a happy ending. The supposed winners are left on shaky ground, looking at an uncertain future. Significant is Portia’s look of shocked dismay when she realizes the full extent of her new husband’s callow idiocy. They’ve all made their bed — now they can restlessly toss and turn in it.
elisabeth.vincentelli
@nypost.com