As presented by the Algonquin Theater Company, Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice is a tasty treat. If you go, however, it is best not to anticipate a full, dramatic meal, for although this Merchant has all the edges toasted golden brown and is covered with delicious characterizations, the center is…well, missing.

Director Maren Maclean Mascarelli works wonders with the limited space available at the West Valley Art Museum, deftly choreographing her troupe and using every inch available. No movement is wasted; nothing extraneous is included, and every stage picture compliments the tale. Balancing the depth of drama with spices of humor, Mascarelli shows herself to be a true artist, never overwhelming the story with blatant stylization, she simply allows Shakespeare to be Shakespeare: a talent that is rare, indeed.

For the most part, the cast shines. As Nerissa, Jenn Banda does struggle a bit with over-enunciation in the opening scenes, but after a few minutes she relaxes, and for the next two hours she is a complete joy. Athena Hunting’s Portia takes a little time to warm up, but she, too, then soars through the rest of the evening.

Special congratulations are due to Christian Miller. As Bassanio, he uses every moment, every gesture, to create a truly captivating performance. He can say more with a single glance than many actors can with a four-page monologue. His command of the Shakespearian tongue, classic posture and Elizabethan grace makes every moment he spends on stage truly magic, and his very presence on stage seems to inspire those around him.

Not far behind is Richard Bain, whose Gratiano adds just the right touch, especially when he is paired with Banda. Their playful-yet-earnest desire for one another is a delightful show-within-a-show, and they succeed in taking their lustful energy right to the edge without ever plunging into the over-acting abyss. Wonderful!

The rest of the supporting cast ranges from moderately successful to riotously funny. Courtney Weir and Sam Wilkes, as the young lovers Jessica and Lorenzo, are fairly believable, but lack any real romantic spark, and A.J. Moorhead’s Launcelot never really finds his footing. On the other hand, do not under any circumstances miss Joseph Keane as Portia’s suitors. I laughed so hard I nearly plotzed.

Enough, though, about the bagel. It’s time to examine the hole.

The roles of Shylock and Antonio the Merchant are beyond the abilities to the actors who portray them. As Antonio, Bruce Alvin does his best, but never inspires the audience to believe in him and his plight. When upbeat, he seems relatively at ease, but when confronted with scenes of depth and import he appears shallow and cursory – never completely embracing the possibilities of the moment: Disappointing, but not without merit.

It is Marty Berger’s Shylock who leaves the most to be desired. For some reason that defies explanation, Berger has chosen to completely internalize the role – so much so that he never allows any characterization to actually escape onto the stage. He looks the part, and from his facial expressions it appears that he does understand the role, but it doesn’t count if Shylock only lives within the confines of an actor’s head. After a time, his presence on stage became merely a necessary distraction, and one was left wondering if he was using oxygen that could be employed to greater benefit by the other performers.

Fortunately, The Merchant of Venice is, technically, a comedy, and in this light it shines. Briskly paced and filled with fun and frolic, it is a delight – an evening that is both tasteful and tasty. Enjoy the bagel and the delectable cream cheese comedy. By the time you’re finished, you’ll never miss the hole.