Exactly 50 years after its memorable double staging of Christopher Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta and Shakespeare’s slightly later (and obviously derivative) The Merchant of Venice, the Royal Shakepeare Company is again performing these two plays in the same season.

Last time, following the example set by Edmund Kean, both Hebrew villains were played by the same actor, the admirable Eric Porter who became the first Stratford Lear I saw three years later. This time the leads are different — Jasper Britton in the Marlowe, the first offering at the Swan (The Merchant, in the main house, will be reviewed here next week).

Playing the provocatively named Barabas, Britton supplies a bravura, compulsively watchable performance, dominating the stage whenever he is on it, which is most of the time. This is a mighty role that demands — and this time gets — a mighty actor.

Subtle his portrayal is certainly not, for, unlike Shylock, Barabas is not a nuanced character. He is almost a comic book baddie whose joy in his villainies — they include the murder of his daughter Abigail (Catrin Stewart) along with a convent full of her fellow nuns — comes to be shared, only a little guiltily, by members of the audience.

The girl is recognisably a prototype for that other christian convert, Jessica, in The Merchant of Venice. Barabas’s “Oh my girl, my gold” is clearly echoed in Shylock’s “O, my ducats! O, my daughter.” Abigail’s apostasy here follows her fury at being implicated in her father’s revenge plot against Malta’s governor Ferneze (Steven Pacey) who has seized much of his wealth to buy off warmongering Turks, led by Prince Calymath (Marcus Griffiths). Playing on her good looks, Barabas successfully makes her the love object both of the governor’s son Don Lodowick (Andy Apollo) and his friend Don Mathias (Colin Ryan),leading to a duel in which both men are killed.

Later villainies, with his Turkish slave Ithamor (Lanre Malaolu) an enthusiastic accomplice, include the slaughter of two friars (Matthew Kelly and Geoffrey Freshwater) who threaten to reveal their crimes. That this pair of “religious caterpillars” are less than flatteringly presented — both shown as vulpine in their pursuit of the Jew’s funds — shows Marlow to be commendably even-handed in the matter of religious debate.

The Jew of Malta
Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon
Until September 8
Tickets: 0844 800 1100, rsc.org.uk