My comments, based on Wednesday's performance:
I was shocked by how bad it was. Daniel Sullivan has directed two of the most satisfying Shakespeare in the Park productions I've attended--last year's TWELFTH NIGHT and 2007's MIDSUMMER--so I usually expect good things from him. This staging is a wash. The characters dress in Victorian era costumes, which are never explained. The attempts to play up the Jewishness of Shylock and his business associates are heavy-handed. And the second act was just interminable.
As I mentioned, Pacino is Pacino. If that's what you're going for, then you're going to have a hell of a time. If you expect a performance, however, you'll be extremely disappointed. He basically stands center-stage and beats his breast for three hours, declaiming the famous speeches. There isn't an ounce of character development in his Shylock.
However, he's worlds better than Lily Rabe, who is helplessly at sea as Portia. She delivers all of her lines in a flat, emotionless monotone, and conveys none of the passion that makes Portia one of Shakespeare's most captivating women. Similarly, Hamish Linklater--who has proven so good at comedy in THE WINTER'S TALE and TWELFTH NIGHT--is lost in the role of romantic lead. He comes off as rather nebbishy, when he should be suave and assured.
The supporting cast is solid. Byron Jennings is his usual brilliant self as Antonio. Marianne Jean-Baptiste has little to do compared to her prime assignment in THE WINTER'S TALE, but she captivates every moment that she's on stage. And while she still needs work, Heather Lind shows inate talent in the role of Jessica.
I waited nine hours for tickets, and I can't really say that it was worth it. See this only if you're a Pacino devotee, really. Otherwise, you're in for a long evening.
"You travel alone because other people are only there to remind you how much that hook hurts that we all bit down on. Wait for that one day we can bite free and get back out there in space where we belong, sail back over water, over skies, into space, the hook finally out of our mouths and we wander back out there in space spawning to other planets never to return hurrah to earth and we'll look back and can't even see these lives here anymore. Only the taste of blood to remind us we ever existed. The earth is small. We're gone. We're dead. We're safe."
-John Guare, Landscape of the Body
Anyway, I'm in section F, row P, also all the way on the end.
