The Merchant Of Venice (1936) at the Richmond Theatre

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

Last night’s performance of The Merchant of Venice (1936) at the Richmond Theatre was a striking and inventive take on Shakespeare’s classic, blending historical resonance with standout performances that left the audience buzzing. Directed with a bold vision, the production transported Venice’s tale of justice, mercy, and prejudice to World War II-era London, a setting that infused the play with a chilling immediacy.

The incorporation of real quotes from the British Union of Fascists, echoing the venomous antisemitism of the Nazis, grounded the adaptation in a way that felt both daring and, for the most part, effective. This recontextualisation sharpened the play’s exploration of bigotry, though at times the parallel risked oversimplifying the original’s nuance—yet it undeniably packed an emotional punch.

Georgie Fellows as Portia was nothing short of mesmerising. From her first entrance, she commanded the stage with an effortless charisma reminiscent of a Hollywood star from the golden age—think a cross between Marilyn Monroe, and Katherine Hepburn, all poise and fire with an elegant beauty. Her delivery of the “quality of mercy” speech was a masterclass in restraint and power, her voice weaving through the text with a clarity that made every word shimmer. Fellows brought a modern vitality to Portia, balancing wit and warmth, and her presence seemed to elevate every scene she graced. She was the heartbeat of the production, a luminous figure who made the courtroom climax feel like a cinematic triumph.

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

Equally compelling was Joseph Millson’s Antonio, a performance that anchored the evening with remarkable control. Millson played the merchant with a quiet intensity, his measured restraint drawing the audience into his inner turmoil. He steered the flow of the performance with a subtle authority, particularly in his exchanges with Shylock, where his stoic demeanor contrasted beautifully with the rising tension. Millson’s Antonio was less a passive victim than a man wrestling with pride and despair, and his command of the stage ensured that the emotional stakes remained taut throughout.

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

The World War II London setting was a gamble that largely paid off. The stark, wartime aesthetic—think air-raid shadows and muted greys—lent a visceral edge to the persecution of Shylock, drawing unsettling parallels to the fascist rhetoric of the time. Hearing British Union of Fascist slogans woven into the dialogue was jarring in the best way, a reminder of how close homegrown prejudice came to mirroring the horrors across the Channel.

Occasionally, the concept felt heavy-handed, as if the production leaned too hard into historical allegory at the expense of Shakespeare’s moral ambiguity. But when it worked—like in the trial scene, where the weight of systemic injustice hung thick in the air—it was unforgettable.

Photo Credit: Marc Brenner

The ensemble was strong, with the supporting cast navigating the blend of Elizabethan language and 1940s grit admirably. The pacing was brisk, the staging inventive, and the Richmond Theatre’s intimate space amplified the intensity of the drama. This Merchant of Venice wasn’t flawless—the WWII lens sometimes strained under its own ambition—but it was a bold, thought-provoking night of theatre, elevated by Fellows’ star quality and Millson’s masterful control. It’s a production that lingers, challenging you to rethink a familiar story through a hauntingly relevant frame.

For tickets, visit the official UK Theatre Network link here > uktheatre.link/merchant.