“Let all of his complexion choose me so,” Portia, in Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, says after the Prince of Morocco, who is Black, fails the riddle game that would have won her as his wife.

In Portland Shakespeare Project’s current staging of the play, the words are barely out of Portia’s mouth before we hear offstage drunken laughter that emphasizes her xenophobia and provides a potent reminder that Merchant may be called a comedy, but this version is intent on grappling with the prejudices displayed by its characters.

Although the disparaging talk is pretty clear in Shakespeare’s script, this production makes sure we don’t miss its meaning, thanks to Elise Thoron’s modern-verse translation, which retains the rhythm of Shakespeare’s language so well you might not notice you’re hearing an update.

In the story, Portia’s late father set up a test for her potential suitors: The winner has to guess which of three boxes contains her portrait. Meanwhile, Bassanio (Brave), the guy she likes, is short on cash and begs the adoring Venetian merchant Antonio (Emily Sahler) for a loan so he can call on Portia in style. Antonio (called “she” and sometimes “Antonia”) would lasso the moon for Bassanio if she could, but she’s currently low on funds, too, and asks Shylock (Gavin Hoffman), who is Jewish, for a loan.

This is where things get tricky. Shylock is fed up with being literally spat upon by the contemptuous Christians in Venice – including the otherwise kindly Antonio – and makes a macabre deal: If you can’t pay me back in three months, you’ll have to pay with a pound of your flesh.

Who is the villain in this scenario? Neither this production, as directed by Avital Shira, nor Shakespeare completely reviles one character. Sahler’s Antonio, for instance, is a selfless friend to Bassanio, but has no compunction, even when asking for a favor, about telling Shylock he’s a devil and a dog.

The same can be said of Portia, who is always the smartest person in any room, but, as played by Annie Leonard, gets all giggly around Bassanio and then cool-headed and cold-hearted when, disguised as a lawyer, she seeks to strip Shylock of his wealth.

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As the company’s artistic director, Michael Mendelson, points out in his program notes, “Venice had one of the first Jewish ghettos, where Jews were required to wear yellow or red hats to make them easily identified.”

But Shira’s production doesn’t merely portray a foreign society from long ago where merchants like Antonia can enjoy an upright reputation while slinging antisemitic slurs. Instead, it holds a mirror up to today’s America, where at a recent rally, the POTUS referred to “Shylocks and bad people,” then refused to apologize, unlike Joseph Biden, who as vice president used the same term in 2014, then owned his mistake.

The contemporary flavor of the set and costumes emphasize this connection to our own day. In Venice, which set designer Alex Meyer portrays with a simple black background and industrial-looking benches, costume designer Anya Jones has dressed the Venetian characters in the dark pinstripes of American bankers. Then, in the more idyllic Belmont, which is adorned with greenery and fairy lights, Portia looks red-carpet ready in an elegant mustard dress and gold heels, and Bassanio swans around like a rock star in a sparkling vest and motorcycle boots. Together, they could easily be a pair you see while scrolling through posts on Instagram during a coffee break.

Shylock, too, is recognizable, mostly because Hoffman, with a steady, matter-of-fact delivery, portrays him as a man, not a scenery-chewing monster. Recently replacing Mendelson in the role, Hoffman performed with script in hand on opening night. Instead of breaking the dream, though, he appeared to be looking at contracts, which is fitting for a father who grieves both the loss of his daughter and his ducats when she runs off with his money.

Hoffman’s modern-day gravitas could easily have carried the play across a much grander stage than the intimate space at Portland Playhouse, but Shira’s production uses the limitations of the small theater to good effect. Actors frequently come up and down the aisle stairs and, in a few cases, even take a seat amongst the audience. In a sense, this makes their characters one of us … even when Gratiano (Matt Sunderland) ruthlessly heckles the humiliated Shylock in Act IV’s courtroom showdown.

Most sobering of all is Shylock’s exit. Defeated, he disappears from the play, taking slow, heavy steps up the stairs while the audience watches in silence.  

To balance this darkness, the production also employs some magical touches. With Kyle Colgan’s sound design, we hear the sea at the beginning of the Venetian scenes, which contrasts with the birdsong that announces when we’re in Belmont.

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Another evocative touch is the Chopin nocturne that we hear as married pair Jessica (Olivia Mathews) and Lorenzo (Dylan Hankins) talk about love in the moonlight. Thyra Hartshorn’s dramatic lighting also heightens the suspense when the wrong suitors attempt to win Portia, and the wonderful Elizabeth Jackson creates a bright and compelling Nerissa, Portia’s sparkling lady-in-waiting pal.

As for humor, Zebadiah Bodine contributes laughs as the comic servant Launcelot, and there’s also a wonderful moment when Bassanio arrives at Portia’s house and immediately leaps triumphantly on a bench, as if he’s claiming the place and its mistress as his belongings. As much as he loves Antonio and (we hope) Portia, the character also conveys a congenial sense of entitlement.

So is this Merchant a comedy, after all? For me, the answer came at the end, which I won’t reveal. I’ll just say that after the usual pairings-off in Act V, we get an extra scene that is a small, beautiful and devastating moment with the power to shake our preconceptions about this complex play.

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Portland Shakespeare Project’s The Merchant of Venice continues at Portland Playhouse through July 20. Find tickets and schedules here.