Merchant of Venice at the Globe

I saw The Merchant of Venice at The Globe last night with Chukwudi, my charming RSC friend. The show was very good, but I always find the racism of this play quite uncomfortable, especially as it is supposedly a comedy. Some of the actors had very gruff voices which was troubling in the open-air acoustics. At first I wasn’t overly connected with the protagonists as they seemed quite modern-pretentious and unlikable; Bassanio was in Sydney-esque style suit and snorting cocaine, and Portia was very flippant and bitchy in her assessment of her hopeless suiters. But once the romance of the story kicked in, I began to really enjoy it. The Shylock was fabulous. I particularly liked the actress' interpretation for Portia’s soliloquy as Bassanio approaches the caskets to choose – this is the piece I am working on for my monologue class.
Chuk had persuaded me to pay extra so we could have a seat for the show’s duration, and I was very thankful as it rained mostly lightly but sometimes had a small short pour throughout. All accompanied by ominous thunder sound-effects which would have been better suited to The Tempest. The standing riff-raff shuffled about and fished out raincoats from their bags, and looked longingly up into the stalls where we sat. I felt a bit guilty, so tried to imagine myself as an Elizabethan who may not have even noticed the poor being rained down upon. Down-trodden and down-sodden. I have not yet stood for a show at the Globe yet, and this sight was not encouraging.