The Merchant Of Venice, Swan Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon

Three Mac PowerBooks have pride of place on the set of Darko Tresnjak's production of The Merchant of Venice which the New York company, Theatre for a New Audience, has brought to the Complete Works Festival at Stratford. Amusingly, they function as hi-tech versions of the gold, silver and lead caskets that confront the suitors in the marriage-contest for Portia. They are also the laptops on which the yuppie Christians monitor their business deals.

All of this, along with the mobile phones, flat-screen televisions and glass-and-steel Wall Street ambience, has a dated air. The fashion for transposing The Merchant to the world of cut-throat contemporary banking began with Peter Zadek's German production in the late 1980s and was already looking passé when David Thacker introduced it to Stratford in 1993. A moment's inspection shows that the entire concept is fundamentally shaky.

Principled aversion to money-lending for profit is not exactly rampant in the banking community, so the Christians' moral objection to Shylock on those grounds is simply untenable. Zadek and Thacker tried to get round this problem by presenting Shylock as an assimilated Jew, virtually indistinguishable from the rest of the financiers.

The "pound of flesh" clause in the contract with Antonio was proposed as a fanciful black joke. It was only when his daughter Jessica defected to the opposition, that a deep desire for vengeance seized him.

Inconveniently for such an approach, Shylock gives vent to a declaration of loathing for Christians during his first appearance in the play. It's to the credit of Tresnjak's production that it doesn't fudge that issue. In the role of Shylock, F Murray Abrahamexudes a self-respect lacking in the sniggering, coke-snorting Christian bankers.

The production communicates a balanced sense of someone sinned against and sinning. There's a finely judged moment when, just about to strike the deal, Shylock extends his hand to Tom Nelis's snooty Antonio. There's a long pause before Antonio can overcome his revulsion and reciprocate, but as Shylock takes his hand, he springs the "pound of flesh" proviso, exulting in his power. It follows from this that the account of the trial scene, by emphasising the ugliness of the hatred on both sides, has a distressing impact. The level of anxiety is raised by the fact that Kate Forbes's Portia evidently has no game plan (the crucial loophole is only discovered after surfing the internet).

As the Jew's prospects of victory disintegrate, Antonio spits in his face. The final cruel twist, whereby he is forced to convert to Christianity, leaves Shylock in agony, as his yarmulke is yanked off his head.

Kept like a trophy scalp, this religious garment drops from Portia's pocket in the last act, adding to the production's discomfiture at the idea of a happy ending. Nicole Lowrance's Jessica guiltily retrieves the painful reminder of her father, but then dismisses it and rejoins Lorenzo in the celebratory drinks party. The song here leaves a pointed question mark dangling over all the play's mercenary romantic unions: "Oh, how can I know if it's love?"

PAUL TAYLOR

To 31 March (0870 609 1110)