The Merchant of Venice, Almeida

I have seen The Merchant of Venice only once, with Dustin Hoffman and Geraldine James. I thought the bad taste it left in my mouth was of its time, but sitting in The Almeida twenty years later wincing through  Rupert Goold's Las Vegas reframing of the play - a cross between the X Factor final, Carry on Up the Khyber and a UKIP convention - I think I hated it even more. The situation was not helped by a gent who sat alongside picking his nose continuously, wiping his hands on his pate and his trousers and, in the second half, adding foul smelling burps to the repertoire. The whole experience was oppressive.

The Merchant of Venice is essentially a love story. Bassanio falls in love with Portia and has to woo her by guessing in which of three containers - one gold, one silver, one lead - her portrait is hidden. To do this he has to raise a huge sum of money so he gets his mate Antonio to guarantee a $3M loan from the Jew, Shylock. Shylock has had it with the rudeness and lack of respect shown to him by posh, penniless, pleading Venetians, so he agrees on one condition: if Antonio can't repay within three months, he must forfeit a pound of flesh. Suffice to say it's an unhappy road for Antonio and the end of the road for Shylock - excellent Ian McDiarmid in mittel-European mode. Racism of all kinds wins the day as the young people revel in a flashy, trashy, wigs and wiggles wonderland: a recreation of Caeser's Palace.

Rupert Goold is a favourite director. His Macbeth with Patrick Stewart and Kate Fleetwood was historic and his Romeo and Juliet for the RSC a delight. This Merchant of Venice was originally created for the RSC to huge acclaim. As I emerged gasping for clean air like a beached fish after three hours of vacuity and racism on the Italian canals, I suspect others were saying how brilliant he is to set the play in a city where money is king and there's a careless disregard for morality. Certainly there are epic moments. Jamie Beamish as Lancelot Gobbo is an Elvis impersonator who kicks off proceedings with a full Viva Las Vegas. He predates the X Factor's Steve Richie, but is his double. Portia's wooing is turned into a reality TV programme hosted by her maid, Nerissa. Susannah Fielding and Emily Plumtree are a great double act. The suitors appear in costumes from the Vegas attractions: the Princes of Morocco and Aragon are glorious.

In conclusion: The loud music, bizarre costumes and visual gags in  this production are so extraordinary they completely detract from the words (delivered in American accents). If like me you don't know every twist and turn, the early scenes are baffling. There is a lot to enjoy and relish but if the storyline sticks in your craw, it becomes a torture to be endured.

References
Almeida Theatre, Tickets
Photograph, Alastair Muirhead, taken from Time Out

Almeida Theatre, Almeida Street, London N1 1TA.    Run ends 14 February