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It’s a toss-up as to which is more intriguing: Mark Cabus’ new production of The Merchant of Venice, or the theater in which it’s performed. The Patrice and Richard Schroeder Black Box Stage, located in the rear of Belmont University’s Troutt Theater, offers a fabulously cool experimental ambience, enveloped by high catwalks and gridwork. The venue’s inaugural event situates the audience on three sides of a central playing area, but this triangulation only begins to hint at the possibilities for innovation.

Historically categorized as a comedy, Merchant is ultimately one of the Bard’s “problem plays.” It’s certainly humorous, in the ways Shakespeare’s dalliances with matters of love often are. But the dark undercurrents concerning the Jewish moneylender Shylock skew any rote lighthearted interpretation.

Smartly, director Cabus prunes the script to keep the running time down to two hours, which helps focus our attention on the key plot points. Furthermore, his staging cagily keeps the audience on edge—for example, manly yet passionate embraces between the brooding Antonio (the merchant of the title) and Bassanio (his friend intent on borrowing money to woo the heiress Portia) suggest homosexual possibilities, yet the deft handling of those scenes leaves it a tantalizing open question.

The atmosphere is contemporary, both in style of dress and incidental music, much of it evoking an ’80s sensibility—there’s a disco opening, along with a classical guitar rendition of “Stairway to Heaven” and songs by Joe Jackson and Peter Gabriel.

The cast members—a rare mix of younger apprentices and longtime pros comfortable with the Bard’s marvelous language—are a joy to watch. Chief among them is Lane Davies as a cigar-smoking, yarmulke-topped Shylock, sharply fitted in a pinstriped business suit. His characterization is coolly assured, intent on avoiding the stereotypical pitfalls of the famous “Hath not a Jew eyes” speech. His performance is strong and consistent, and by the time Shylock’s machinations have turned sour at play’s end, we are equally struck by his questionable honor and the bigotry he’s had to endure.

Ruth Cordell is a pliant and vulnerable Portia, offering a nice reading of “The quality of mercy is not strained…” monologue. Marin Miller is her effectively watchful waiting-maid Nerissa. Richard Northcutt’s Antonio is solemn almost to a fault, though the presence of Bassanio, played with decent clarity and good energy by newcomer Taylor Jones, definitely sparks his delivery. Darci Stebbins, as Shylock’s daughter Jessica, manages the first-ever “balcony scene” at the new venue, and it’s an entertainingly crisp turn.

Merchant is certainly one of the Bard’s best-written works, and simply savoring the words reaps rewards. Cabus pushes a few buttons, but he does it gently while still honoring the play’s genius.

Grimmly sastisfying

The new Boiler Room Theatre production of Stephen Sondheim’s Into the Woods is a clear-cut triumph for director Corbin Green. A creative experiment in the use of fairy tales to relate broader perspectives about the human condition, the musical ties together several classic Brothers Grimm stories, unified with a plot device involving a baker and his wife. The supposedly simple recounting of familiar fables ends up delivering cynical commentary on family, human nature, love and the notion of happy endings.

In addition to directing the show seamlessly, Green designed a charming and flexible set that accommodates an active cast of 16 through some 30 musical numbers. The nearly three-hour running time goes almost unnoticed, due to sharp, consistent performances by yet another committed BRT ensemble.

The score is vintage Sondheim: extended, lyric-driven melody lines wafting over rhythmic, occasionally dissonant harmonic textures. The typical complaint about the master—nothing’s very hummable—mostly holds true, yet the title tune definitely sticks in your head. Regardless, the ambitious songs are more than serviceable in conveying the mature emotions of the seemingly immature characters, and the trio of songs that conclude Act 2 before the finale find Sondheim at his best.

The good performances are too plentiful to mention all of them. Among the highlights are Erin Burns as an animated Red Riding Hood, Shane Bridges as a wonderfully lecherous Wolf, and sweet-voiced Neely O’Brien as a perfect Cinderella. As the baker, BRT artistic director Jamey Green displays a baritone of distinctive quality. Corrie Miller, playing his wife, also shines. Evelyn Leonard showcases welcome versatility in three separate lesser roles.

Sara Schoch, who made an impressive BRT debut in the recent, successful Urinetown, proves that was no fluke with a captivating, sometimes incandescent portrayal of the Witch. Her vocals and magical presence drive the play inexorably forward. Musical director Mark Beall ably leads the small accompanying combo, and Melissa Cannon contributes fanciful costumes.