Istvan Dugalin ➤

Saul Rubinek in “Playing Shylock”, Photo by Dahlia Katz

in association with Starvox Entertainment

Intermission is over. Sonorous, cinematic music—ripped straight out of a bombastic historical epic—primes the audience for the second half of a production of “The Merchant of Venice.” We’re confronted with Shawn Kerwin’s glorious set—a stately table and chairs (prepped for the iconic trial scene) surrounded by crumbling walls and anti-semitic graffiti of a fractured world. A massive cross hangs ominously over the stage; though splintered and charred, it is still oppressive, owing to its sheer scale and positioning—a striking metaphor. 

A harried man in a trench coat and hat comes in from the side stage door, overwhelmed by some outside disturbance. He makes his way on stage and demands the music be turned off. Underneath the street clothes we see orthodox Jewish clothing and greying payot. This is Saul Rubinek, as himself, an interrupted Shylock, telling us that we will not be seeing the second half of “The Merchant of Venice.” Rubinek is not, however, done with us. 

Thus begins Canadian Stage’s production of Playing Shylock. 

It isn’t just Rubinek that plays himself here. Canadian Stage itself is featured as the presenting company for the controversial—now cancelled—in-story production of Shakespeare’s contentious comedy. Reading out to us an embargoed press release inadvertently leaked by some sloppy publicist, Rubinek scoffs at the disingenuous platitudes. He’s hurt and angry. And this is his chance to tell us why.

Though not familiar with it, it seems Mark Leiren-Young has re-worked the themes of his earlier play Shylock and tailored them to Rubinek’s autobiographical specifics. As we learn that a key sponsor for the production has pulled out due to public outcry over the “racist caricature” of Shylock, Rubinek takes us back to the history of Shakespeare’s play, its dubious authorship, the founding of Canadian Stage as the Toronto Free Theatre—of which he was a key member in the early 1970s—and his own family ties to the material.

Rubinek—under Martin Kinch’s direction (a fellow artist with scrappy beginnings in the Toronto Free Theatre)—feels spontaneous and passionate. He goes off on tangents that turn out to be essential, building character and establishing the intimate details of his world. There is an added layer of catharsis here for Rubinek, who isn’t simply playing a part, he’s playing his father playing Shylock. His father, who ran a Yiddish theatre company (which alienated him from his own father), never got to do it, though he desperately wanted to. 

And now Rubinek, with the weight of all this emotional context, has also had his dream dashed. But those intense feelings remain, channelled into this forthright time with us.

Taking well-aimed shots at the entertainment industry and challenging the myth of “the Jewish community” as a monolith, Rubinek shares his experience as a second generation Holocaust survivor. He also rails against those that would censor a play (often without any real knowledge of it) rather than own and address its problematic elements. He gives heartfelt and intelligent reasoning for why Shylock is vital, in all his aspects—even villainous. He laments the contemporary tendency to remove Shylock’s Jewish identity to appease the delicate sensibilities of pearl-clutchers, as if comfort will somehow quash the evils of the world.

“I don’t think any art can carry the baggage we place on it.” This line resonates so deeply with me because it is a sentiment I’ve carried for years and just never quite articulated, not in this perfect way.

Rubinek had me in his spell from the moment he walked on. As both a loquacious goofball, a thoughtful man and a fierce defender of cultural and artistic identity, he finds all the right moments to reveal the multitudes he contains. He delivers Shylock’s famous “Hath not a Jew eyes?” speech twice!—the second time in Yiddish, a truly stirring rendition that gives us some glimpse into the devastating spectacle that his full performance of the role might have been. 

One small moment that has stayed with me: resigned to the loss of his dream role, he removes the clipped-on payot at his temples. He regards them with such wistful, considered affection as he puts them away, part of his “costume” yet… far more than that. In this subtle gesture, we feel the presence of his father, his grandfather, of the many to whom his Shylock would have paid tribute—and, ultimately, to which this performance does.

Playing Shylock
running October 26 to November 24, 2024
Berkeley Street Theatre (26 Berkeley Street)
running time: 85 minutes (no intermission)

Saul Rubinek in “Playing Shylock”, Photo by Dahlia Katz