September 5

08/02/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s September 1972 and in Munich the sports department of ABC television are busy in their studio in the Olympic village, beaming live coverage of the Games to viewers all over the world. In this pre-digital age, they need to use every trick at their disposal to ensure that they capture the action. And then some of them hear the sound of gunshots…

Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum’s ingenious account of this true-life story, written by Fehlbaum, Moritz Binder and Alex David, is a dark claustrophobic tale, which adopts the same approach as the broadcast team, never pointing the finger of blame but simply laying out what happens in meticulous detail. Geoffrey Mason (John Magaro), a relatively inexperienced studio director, has been handed the opportunity to helm today’s coverage and is anxious to do a good job, under the ever watchful gaze of head man, Roone Arlege (Peter Sarsgaard), and producer, Marvin Bader (Ben Chaplin).

But when eleven members of the Israeli team are taken hostage by the Palestinian Black September group, the stakes are suddenly kicked into the stratosphere. The terrorists announce that, if their demands are not met, they will kill one athlete every hour…

Arlege is determined that, as the crew closest to the action, the sports team must hang on to this ‘scoop’ at all costs. It is their responsibility, he claims, to ensure that the unfolding story is shown to the world. As the only person in their office who can speak German, young assistant Marianne Gebhardt (Leonie Benesch) finds herself pressed into service as an interpreter, horribly aware that she has been plunged headlong into a demanding position.

I’m old enough to actually remember the event but its shocking outcome (I’m almost ashamed to admit) has drifted into the mists of time. Consequently, September 5 wracks me with suspense throughout, the tension steadily mounting as the film hurtles towards its shattering conclusion.

Fehlbaum’s production team has done an incredible job here, seamlessly interweaving found footage with authentic recreations of the era and using sequences featuring the original presenter, Jim McKay, to great effect. I’m constantly impressed by the inventiveness of the original technicians, who have to come up with all kinds of tricks and shortcuts to ensure that their coverage reaches the widest possible audience.

It’s sobering to learn that the live broadcast (one of the very first of its kind) was seen by more than 900 million viewers. But be warned, this is real life and therefore not one of those action romps that results in a neat, heartwarming, happy ending. Nonetheless, it’s an assured and provocative film that’s earned its Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Much Ado About Nothing

06/02/25

Pleasance Theatre, Edinburgh

Let’s face it, judged by plot alone, Much Ado About Nothing is a bit, well… silly. Like most of Shakespeare’s comedies, the humour relies on disguise, misunderstandings and a fickle approach to romance. As an audience, we really have to suspend our disbelief. Would sworn enemies such as Benedick and Beatrice (Benedict Harrison and Verity Mann) really have an immediate change of heart thanks to some very unsubtly orchestrated eavesdropping? Both of them? It seems unlikely. Would a respected celebrant (Dylan Kaeuper) really suggest that a jilted bride should fake her death, or her father embrace the idea – agreeing that “death is the fairest cover for her shame”? Hmm. And would the groom – a mere twenty-four hours later – agree to marry his dead fiancé’s looky-likey cousin without ever setting eyes on her? I mean, that’s a no, right? Meanwhile, we’re also supposed to accept that no one in Leonato (Faolán Ingram)’s household suspects the decidedly dodgy – almost moustache-twirling – Don John (Cameron Broadly) of being a villain, despite the many outward clues. But still. It is what it is, and there’s a lot of fun to be had along the way.

EUSC’s production of this sprawling play is sprightly and engaging. The directors (Madeleine Brown, Marina Funcasta and Anna Simurda) have chosen to emphasise the humour, eliciting larger-than-life performances from their actors rather than aiming for anything subtle – and I think this is a wise move. The action has been moved from Italy to California, from the 16th century to the 1970s but, while the period is clearly-evoked, I’m less certain about the place. There’s certainly a laid-back Summer of Love vibe, but most of the music is British (Bowie, Bolan, The Sweet, The Police) and the majority of characters speak with English accents, so it all feels a bit more Camden Town than Haight-Ashbury.

Leonato’s estate is Party Central as he and his wife, Antonia (Maria Wollgast), play host to the local socialites. What better way to make a match for their beloved daughter, Hero (Francesca Carter)? The dope is plentiful, the drinks are flowing – and love is in the air. Claudio (Rider Hartley) fancies his chances with Hero, and she’s rather keen on him as well. But “the course of true love never did run smooth” (yes, I know – wrong play), and what could go wrong with Don Pedro (Eric Parker)’s complicated plan to woo the girl on his friend’s behalf? Throw in some meddling servants, a fabulously drunken henchman (Fraser Murray), a local constable (Robbie Morris) and a veritable army of liggers – and the scene is set for some merry mayhem.

It’s a great idea to have a live band on stage, although I can’t help feeling they’re under-utilised. Still, the young cast are clearly having a ball, dressed up to the nines in flares and sequins (floppy hats off to costume designers Paloma Leigh-Stevenson, Alex Dunlop and Bea Fitz), their delivery as bold and brash as the script demands. Not everyone has a lot to do, but they all make the most of what there is, and there are some lovely moments of background detail, such as Margaret (Mia Dé)’s horrified realisation that her tryst with Borachio is being used to frame Hero. Harrison (Benedick) and Carter (Hero) are the standouts for me, but all of the actors and musicians perform with gusto, and I am thoroughly entertained.

There are just two more chances to catch this groovy rendition of Much Ado, so why not head on down to the Pleasance and hang loose with the hippies? Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…

3.4 stars

Susan Singfield

Macbeth

05/02/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Macbeth is a ubiquitous play. Searching back through the B&B archive, I’m not entirely surprised to find that this is the ninth time we’ve reviewed a version of Shakespeare’s celebrated tragedy and I note too that there are three other related items that reference that infamous surname in the title. It’s easy to understand why it’s such a perennial. One of the bard’s most propulsive stories, it’s a lean, mean tale of aspiration and the overriding lust for power, which – in these troubled times – seems all too relevant. This Olivier-award winning adaptation, filmed live at London’s Donmar Warehouse, features David Tennant in the title role with Cush Jumbo as the manipulative Lady M. The screening we attend is sold out.

It’s a stripped-back production, freed from any issues with costuming or elaborate set design. The actors wear simple, monochrome outfits and the performance space is a stark white rectangular dais. It’s set in front of a transparent screened box, behind which other members of the cast occasionally gather, like a chorus of half-glimpsed ghosts, to comment on the action. Prominent among them is a young boy, who at one point hammers his fist repeatedly against the screen and also reappears in the midst of the final battle. His presence serves to remind me that the Macbeths have earlier lost a child – and that perhaps it is this loss that’s the driving force behind their callous bid to seize the throne and betray their former friends.

Tennant is extraordinary, speaking those familiar lines (often direct to camera, as though sharing confidential material) with such utter authority that I almost feel I’m hearing them for the first time. Jumbo is also compelling. She’s the only one here without a Scottish accent, which seems to emphasise her solitude and her distance from the other characters. Cal McCaninch is a stately Banquo, Nouff Ousellam smoulders powerfully as Macduff and it’s a delight to hear Benny Young’s cultured drawl delivering Duncan’s self-satisfied lines as he arrives at the castle where he is destined to die.

Ros Watt is a delightfully punky Malcolm and Jatinga Singh Randawa offers a rambunctious turn as the Porter. In the only scene that takes a wild swing away from what’s actually written on the page, the latter chats to members of the audience and displays all the symptoms of a man suffering from a raging hangover. It’s a gamble but it pays off. And the witches? In what might be the production’s bravest move, they are barely glimpsed in the first act, only heard in giggling off-stage asides as they arrive and depart with a flap of supernatural wings.

Gareth Fry’s sound design adds extra layers of suspense to the production (I note that the audience at the live performance all wear headphones for a truly immersive experience), while Alistair McCrae’s music offers jaunty reels, Celtic airs and, at one point, a spirited highland fling as a brief respite from that all-pervading air of menace. Director Max Webster brings all these disparate elements together to create a powerful and absorbing drama that dares to experiment with the source material. And, at the conclusion, designer Roanna Vize really does – magically – bring Birnam Wood to Dunsinane. 

The final confrontation doesn’t leave me wanting and the face-off between Macbeth and Macduff is unlike any version I’ve seen before. Of course, the only valid reason for doing this immortal story one more time is to offer audiences something new – an aim that this extraordinary production has clearly taken to its dark heart.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Companion

02/02/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Occasionally I find myself wishing that I haven’t already seen the trailer for a film and Companion is a good case in point. 

Writer/director Drew Hancock’s debut feature is a spirited genre mash-up, part sci-fi, part horror, part comedy. The aforementioned trailer has no qualms about alerting potential viewers to a major plot reveal in the story. (Even the film’s poster is a dead giveaway!) Okay, the revelation occurs only twenty or so minutes into proceedings and, yes, there are a whole bunch of hints along the way but still… when the revelation occurs, I can’t help thinking what a delicious shock it would have been if only I hadn’t known this was coming. No matter, because there are a whole bunch of other surprises studded throughout the audacious, twisty-turny storyline that ensure I still have plenty of fun.

We open with a flashback as Iris (Sophie Thatcher, last seen interviewing Hugh Grant in Heretic) wanders dreamily through a Stepford Wives sort of supermarket and has a meet-cute with Josh (Jack Quaid). In a voice-over, she tells us about something major that is going to happen later on. Another spoiler? Yes, but weirdly that’s not the one I’m worried about.

We cut back to now (somewhere in the near future). Iris and Josh are an established couple and are heading off in their self-driving car to the swish lakeside home of  mega-rich Russian oligarch, Sergey (Rupert Friend). Sergey happens to be dating one of Josh’s friends, Kat (Megan Suri), and we learn early on that Kat isn’t keen on Iris. Also invited along for the weekend are Josh’s friends Eli (Harvey Guillén) and his devoted partner, Patrick (Lucas Gage).

From the beginning it’s clear that there’s something different about Iris; she’s almost too perfect, too well-informed about a whole variety of subjects… and well, that’s because she isn’t human, but a highly sophisticated AI companion, or as Josh puts it a tad more bluntly, a ‘fuckbot.’ (Always nice to know you’re appreciated.) It turns out that the aforementioned meet-cute between Iris and Josh is actually just a manufactured memory, picked at random from a list of possibilities, designed to enforce Iris’s abiding devotion to the man who is her, er… boyfriend? 

Companion is the kind of film that isn’t shy about swinging for the fences and really, the less I reveal about the plot from this point, the better. Suffice to say, whenever it seems in danger of petering out or treading on over-familiar territory, Hancock throws in something totally unexpected – something violent, or something funny – and even when the film appears to be heading into a straightforward chase scenario, Iris finds herself faced with yet more unexpected situations. Of course, we’re all familiar with those ‘evil AI’ plots, but Companion turns that idea on its head and makes me feel sorry for Iris and hoping that she can extricate herself from the mess that she’s been dropped into. As her woes steadily mount, so the film’s subtext becomes increasingly feminist.

Thatcher is terrific in the lead role, managing to convey her Uncanny Valley persona with great skill and I’m sure we’re going to see more of her on the big screen in due course. I’ve noticed a few ‘too cool for school’ reviews that have slammed the film as being ‘not as clever as it thinks it is,’ but I beg to differ. For my money, this is an assured debut and I’m already fascinated to see what Hancock comes up with next.  

Companion gets a big thumbs-up from B & B and I would urge you to go and see it at your earliest opportunity. And, if you haven’t seen the trailer… so much the better. 

4. 4 stars

Philip Caveney

Hard Truths

01/02/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s been quite some time since we had a new film from Mike Leigh. His last, 2018’s Peterloo, made for Amazon, was an attempt to transfer his inimitable style onto a bigger canvas and the results were somewhat mixed. With Hard Truths, he’s back on what feels like his home turf, in one of his intimate, unflinching examinations of the human condition.

Pansy (Marianne Jean Baptiste) is in a bad way. Plagued by awful nightmares, she’s not a great deal happier when awake and is prone to unleashing her acid tongue on anybody unlucky enough to cross her path. Her regular targets include her monosyllabic husband, Curtley (David Webber), and her disaffected son, Moses (Tuwaine Barrett), who has taken to reading children’s picture books and blocking out sound with his headphones, while she snarls and raves. And there are plenty of others who find themselves targets for a tongue-lashing: various shop workers, luckless members of the public… even the girl at the supermarket till is told to ‘do something about her face.’

Pansy’s sister, Chantelle (Michele Austin), is her polar opposite. A hairdresser by trade, she has a warm, sunny disposition, always up for a giggle and a gossip, and she has raised her two daughters, Kayla (Ani Nelson) and Aleisha (Sophia Brown), to have the same happy-go-lucky approach to life, even when their own work situations are sometimes challenging.

As the anniversary of Pansy and Chantelle’s mother’s death approaches, a family get-together is planned but making things work with Pansy’s forbidding ‘ghost-at-the-feast’ presence is going to prove a tall order…

This feels like a classic Mike Leigh project and, as ever, his unique approach to filmmaking yields remarkable results. Both Jean Baptiste and Austin offer extraordinarily affecting performances in the lead roles, but the film is more than just a simple two-hander, with all the subsidiary characters beautifully delineated in a series of short set-pieces. Leigh handles a large cast with his customary skill: neither Webber and Barrett is given much in the way of dialogue, but their despair is written large in their desperate sidelong glances. And watch out for Samantha Spiro in a deliciously unpleasant cameo as Kayla’s employer, Nicole.

It’s fascinating to experience the film’s transformation, from the early scenes which are somehow caustically funny (and which have already spawned some internet memes) into a confrontation so utterly heartrending that I find my eyes involuntarily filling up with tears. Hard Truths won’t be for everyone. There’s a devastating melancholy at the heart of this film that seems to seep from the screen, and some of the later scenes make for harrowing viewing. But it’s proof if ever it were needed that Leigh is a unique filmmaker, who has always allowed his actors the creative freedom to explore their characters and in the process, yield extraordinary results.

4.4 stars

Philip Caveney

Moments

30/01/25

The Studio at Festival Theatre, Edinburgh

One of the UK’s leading visual theatre companies, Theatre Re focus on making “deeply moving non-verbal productions about universal human challenges and the fragility of life”. Their latest piece, Moments, lays bare the creative process, taking the audience on a journey from nothing to something, from the flicker of an idea to a compelling dramatic sequence.

The metatheatrical concept is made clear from the outset, as four performers – dressed in rehearsal blacks – stand in a line and introduce themselves. They are: Guillaume Pigé – conceiver, director, actor and mime; Dr Katherine Graham – lighting designer; Alex Judd – composer; and Anna Kitson – BSL interpreter. From the sound desk behind us comes the disembodied voice of Benjamin Adams. They describe their roles and what they each bring to a show.

And then they begin. A chair, at first simply functional, changes before our eyes, becoming a child and then a father. The mood switches, initially light and amusing, then emotionally charged. The intensity swells with the music; the lighting focuses our attention one way and another. There is dialogue but it’s in French, so – for me, at least, with my school level knowledge of the language – it’s more about tone and tenor than it is about the words.

There’s no denying how skilful these theatre-makers are: the performances are incredibly precise and absorbing, and it’s fascinating to see what they can do with a bare stage, no costumes and one prop. However, it feels more like a demonstration than a play; it’s an exemplar of how to develop a piece of drama but the final scene – the culmination of the process – is too brief to be satisfying.

Moments would work well as an introduction to a drama workshop for A level, Higher or Uni students. It’s a dynamic and engaging piece of work that would surely appeal to anyone interested in learning about the process of making theatre.

3 stars

Susan Singfield

Presence

26/01/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

Steven Soderbergh’s latest film is Presence, a taut little ghost story told with absolute assurance. Striking a perfect balance between genre tropes and a fresh approach, this is an intelligent and entertaining piece of work, well worth eighty-five minutes of anybody’s time.

Rebekah (Lucy Liu) is immensely proud of her son, Tyler (Eddy Maday), and determined to maximise his chances of a swimming scholarship, even if it means relocating to a different school district. Her husband, Chris (Chris Sullivan), is unconvinced. After all, it’s only a couple of months since Tyler’s younger sister, Chloe (Callina Liang), lost her best friend to a drug overdose. How will she cope with the upheaval?

But Rebekah is an unstoppable force and so the family duly moves. But Chloe becomes aware that there’s a presence in the new house. Someone – or something – is watching her. Did something bad once happen here?

So far, so predictable – but don’t be fooled. Written by David Koepp, this is a highly original tale with twists and turns aplenty. Its simple surface belies its depths: I find myself thinking about it for hours afterwards, recalling hints and clues that were hiding in plain sight.

Soderbergh’s cinematography sets a claustrophobic tone, as we witness everything from the point of view of the titular presence, peering out from behind the shadows, apparently unable to leave the house. Time sputters forward jerkily: the rooms are empty, then filled with furniture; the walls change colour; trinkets appear; messes are made. The family dynamics are slowly revealed: the cracks in Chris and Rebekah’s marriage; Chloe’s longing for her mom’s attention; the chasm separating Chloe from her jockish brother. Whatever the presence is, it doesn’t seem to want to cause her harm…

Liang might be a relative newcomer, but she more than holds her own in the lead role, creating a compelling and engaging character for the audience to root for. Liu and Sullivan convince as a disaffected couple, while Maday and West Mulholland (as Tyler’s team-mate, Ryan), provide the boyish bantz.

It would be criminal to reveal more here, and so I won’t. Suffice to say that this is a welcome addition to the ghost story cannon. And I look forward to seeing what else the prolific Soderbergh has to offer, in next month’s highly anticipated Black Bag.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

The Brutalist

25/01/25

Cineworld, Edinburgh

It’s evident from the very beginning of The Brutalist that director Brady Corbet is determined to establish his own rules. Instead of rolling vertically, like every other credit sequence you’ve seen, the words slide horizontally across the screen and resemble the work of a groundbreaking graphic designer. Using VistaVision – a screen format popularised in the 1950s – the film has its own distinctive look. It has a prodigious running time of over three-and-a-half hours, but, much like the old epics of David Lean, viewers are afforded a fifteen-minute interval, so we can avail ourselves of a toilet break.

It’s a wonder then that The Brutalist is so utterly compelling that I barely even notice its length. This is monumental in every sense of the word and perhaps the biggest wonder of all is that it’s been created on a budget of less than ten million dollars – a fraction of most films conceived on this scale.

The story begins in 1947 with a series of fragmentary glimpses of Jewish refugee, László Tóth (Adrien Brody) travelling by ship from his native Hungary to begin a new life in America. He has been forcibly separated from his wife, Erzsébet (Felicity Jones), and his orphaned niece, Zsófia (Raffey Cassiday), and imprisoned in Dachau concentration camp for most of the war, but has now been offered sanctuary in Pennsylvania by his cousin, Attila (Alessandro Nivola), and his Catholic wife, Audrey (Emma Laird). The couple run a small furniture store and Attila is well aware that, before the war, László worked as an architect of the Bauhaus School. His design skills, Attila thinks, will come in useful.

Attila is approached by Harry Lee Van Buren (Joe Alwyn), who wants to commission László to redesign his father Harrison’s private library as a birthday surprise. Rather than do a straightforward upgrade, László transforms the room into a stunning work of art. When Harrison (Guy Pearce) arrives home earlier than expected, he clearly doesn’t approve of what’s been done in his absence and flies into a rage, ordering László and Attila to leave. Harry subsequently refuses to pay for the work and, as a consequence, László finds himself thrown out of his cousin’s place, with no better prospect than labouring to earn his daily bread. With his friend, Gordon (Isaac de Bankholé), he sinks into heroin addiction.

But when the redesigned library appears in the pages of an influential style magazine, Harrison undergoes a dramatic change of heart. Suddenly, he wants to be László’s patron, to converse with him, to fully understand his working methods. What’s more, he has influential Jewish friends who will be able to help him to bring Erzsébet and Zsófia over from Hungary to be with him. And then Harrison starts talking about a new commission: a massive civic centre dedicated to his late wife, a place where the local community can meet and enrich their lives.

But in the fullness of time, László will discover that such indulgences come at a price that will utterly compromise his artistic freedom – and will impinge upon his life in ways he could never have anticipated…

The Brutalist is a remarkable film in so many ways, not least because of Brody’s powerful performance in the lead role, a tortured artist, forced to compromise his talent at every turn. Pearce is also terrific as the self-aggrandising Harrison and Alwyn excels as his sneering, deeply unpleasant son, a man used to getting his own way in everything he approaches. Jones doesn’t enter the story until the film’s second half but submits a beautifully nuanced performance as Erzsébet, a woman still physically tortured by the aftermath of the starvation she suffered during the war. I should also mention Daniel Blumberg’s wonderful score, which provides the perfect accompaniment to Lol Crowley’s eye-popping cinematography.

The film has plenty to say about the creative process and it nails perfectly the powerful seduction that success offers to any artist – the fateful allure of patronage and its unpalatable compromises. Brady’s screenplay, co-written with Mona Fastvold, is wise enough to hint at unspeakable things rather than spelling them out – and it keeps me hooked until the final frame.

Will Brody lift the ‘best actor’ gong at this year’s Oscars? It’s a strong possibility in a year that features a whole bunch of commendable performances. Meanwhile, go and see The Brutalist and marvel at its epic qualities – and, if possible, watch it on an IMAX screen to best appreciate the wonders of VistaVision.

5 stars

Philip Caveney

Singin’ in the Rain

23/01/25

Pleasance Theatre, Edinburgh

In Edinburgh, a storm’s a-comin’ in… but before it hits, there’s the chance to catch EUSOG’s delightful adaptation of this classic 1952 Hollywood Musical. Back in 2022, we saw the touring production at the Festival Theatre, which boasted a massive budget and gallons of real water bucketing down from the heavens. A high bar indeed. But we’ve seen enough EUSOG shows to know that these talented students will deliver something special – and we’re not disappointed.

The year is 1927 and Dan Lockwood (Ewan Robertson) and Lina Lamont (Amelia Brenan) are the golden couple of silent cinema. Movie fans believe them to be an item and, for the sake of their own popularity, they allow this belief to flourish. Dan has steadily worked his way up the slippery pole of fame alongside his childhood friend, Cosmo Brown (Dan J Bryant), a wisecracking song-and-dance man. But of course a new film release – Al Jolson’s The Jazz Singer – is about to change the face of cinema forever. Lockwood and Lamont realise that they need to make a talking picture. But there’s a problem: Lina has a screeching voice with all the appeal of fingernails being dragged down a clapperboard.

And then Dan meets Kathy Seldon (Hannah Shaw), a theatre performer, who claims to never go to the cinema, and who plans to head off to New York to pursue a career on the stage – you know, real acting. She also has a lovely singing voice. And Dan is irrevocably smitten…

There are many good reasons why the original film still features in most critics’ lists of the greatest musicals of all time. It boasts a sparkling screenplay by Betty Camden and Adolph Green and a whole clutch of memorable songs by Nacio Herb Brown and Arthur Freed. What this production might lack in special effects is more than made up for by the dazzling and exuberant performances of its young cast, who take on the most demanding of roles with aplomb.

Robertson is the powerful anchor at the heart of the piece, singing up a storm, while Shaw is a delight in the ingenue role. Brenan is having the best time as Lamont, gleefully mangling her lines and performing What’s Wrong With Me? in tones that could shatter plate glass. And, as is the case in the film, it’s Cosmo who steals so many of the scenes: Bryant clowns with considerable skill and his performance of Make ’em Laugh even manages to rival Donald O’Connor’s most celebrated routine.

As ever with these productions, there is a large chorus and every performer gives it one hundred percent. Director Freya White and choreographer Rosalyn Harper have their huge cast moving effortlessly through a series of pratfalls and complex dance routines – and let’s not forget the input of musical directors Evie Alberti and Sebastian Schneeburger, who guide a seventeen-piece orchestra through that unforgettable score. The standing ovation from tonight’s packed crowd is genuine and well-earned.

Sadly, Storm Éowyn has already put paid to Friday night’s performance and fingers are currently crossed for the Saturday. If it does go ahead, then please take the opportunity to catch this captivating show, which to my mind personifies the very essence of pure entertainment. I’m willing to bet you’ll come out smiling and singing the title song, no matter what the weather’s doing.

4.8 stars

Philip Caveney

The Merchant of Venice

22/01/25

The Royal Lyceum, Edinburgh

New York’s Theatre for a New Audience brings The Merchant of Venice to Edinburgh’s Royal Lyceum as part of a reciprocal exchange programme. Starring John Douglas Thompson as Shylock, this is a bold and provocative production, drawing explicit links between 16th century Venice and an all-too-believable near-future USA.

Director Arin Arbus says she wants “to discover what this play means to us in the here and now” – and she certainly does that, using Merchant to hold up a mirror to a divided society where people’s views are polarised and entrenched. In Shylock’s Venice, Jews have few rights. They are forced to live in ghettos, prohibited from owning property, limited in the kind of work they are allowed to do. The prejudice runs deep: even Antonio (Alfredo Narciso), widely reputed to be one of the good guys – “a kinder gentleman treads not the earth” – deems it appropriate to spit at Shylock and call him a dog, all while asking him for money. In the modern American dystopia where this production is set, Thompson’s Black Shylock suffers comparable – and recognisable – iniquities.

It feels like a timely reminder of what we need to avoid, of where discrimination and inequality inevitably lead. Who can blame Shylock’s daughter, Jessica (Danaya Esperanza), for wanting to escape the ghetto, for hooking up with Lorenzo (David Lee Huynh) and converting to Christianity? Why shouldn’t she seek a better life? But it’s her desertion that pushes Shylock, already at breaking point, over the edge, fuelling his thirst for vengeance. What has he left to lose? Just as the Christian Venetians treat the Jews as a homogenous group to be despised, so Shylock views them all as one enemy. No wonder he is furious; no wonder he shows Antonio no mercy.

But the odds are stacked against him. The legal system isn’t fair or balanced: the laws are written by the powerful. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. Power corrupts. Even Portia (Isabel Arraiza), who seems a pretty decent sort at first, isn’t immune. She changes when she assumes the mantle of supremacy, swaggering into the court in her borrowed clothes and treating Shylock with cruel contempt. Arbus’s direction highlights this theme; indeed, this version of the courtroom scene is the most intensely horrifying I have ever seen. The auditorium is eerily silent, as if we’re all holding our collective breath, appalled by Portia’s gloating as she humiliates Shylock.

I’m watching this just three days after Donald Trump has issued an executive order dismantling federal diversity, equity and inclusion programmes, which lends this consciously diverse production even more weight and urgency. Shakespeare’s message transcends the centuries; we have to heed its warning.

4.6 stars

Susan Singfield