By J. Scott Hill
I imagine Shakespeare bringing his Lord Chamberlain’s Men in front of Elizabeth I to perform The Taming of the Shrew. Then I imagine him living out his days in the Tower of London, forced to write the bulk of his catalog to be only ever performed by Walter Raleigh and six ravens. Since the Bard escaped the gallows for this exercise in misogyny, the Virgin Queen must have seen through the controversy surrounding The Shrew, perhaps seeing the story of poor Kate as a cautionary tale against those who would seek to woo then dominate Her Majesty.
The Chicago Shakespeare Theatre’s production of The Taming of the Shrew, with new Induction scenes by Neil LaBute, replaces the old frame story of the drunken tinker with the Noises Off-like whirlwind of a glitchy contemporary tech rehearsal of The Shrew. This technical drudgery is a backdrop for the ungentle death of the love between the overly amorous actress playing Katarina and her longtime lover, the show’s Director.
Seemingly a response to the accusations of misogyny hurled at LaBute’s own plays and films since his beginnings with In the Company of Men, the new Induction critically engages the heinous gender politics of The Shrew. The counterpoints of fidelity and adultery, of control and submission, of mind and body, are hashed out in the dialog between Shakespeare’s play and its new frame. This is no gold-leafed frame; this is a magnificent character-study cast in 24-karat gold, soft gold that shows every mar and scratch and bump ever endured.
The Taming of the Shrew is presented here in all of its ignominy and resplendence. Lucy Osborne’s Costume Design is opulent and lush, her codpieces delightfully vulgar, and her Scenic Design a luminous representation of the scoured stone out of which northern Italy seems to have been built. Wig Designer Melissa Veal conveys so much of each character’s personality through hair, especially Gremio’s cantilevered topiary of a blond Afro. Philip Rosenberg’s Lighting Design shows its grandness during the tech rehearsal portion of the new Induction, while what passes for a run-through of the lighting cues increases the fragmented atmosphere enveloping an argument between the actress playing Katarina and her lover/Director.
This is among the finest ensembles I have seen — taut and giving, flawless. I apologize to all of the actors I do not mention here: you are doing work that deserves more notice than my space here allows.
The most ingenious characterization comes from Alex Goodrich as Biondello. Proof that there are no small parts, Goodrich takes a minor servant’s role and creates a quirky goofball who is an immense joy to watch.
Katherine Cunningham plays Bianca with such coy sweetness and sisterly menace that one easily forgets the tittering Biancas of other mountings of The Shrew. She is a warm and alluring Bianca, whose suitors are given much more than her fair countenance with which to fall in love.
For anyone accustomed to seeing Mike Nussbaum in his string of movie and television appearances as an affable older professional (such as Rosenburg the cat-loving Jeweler in Men in Black), he is unrecognizable as the libido-driven geezer Gremio. Nussbaum leaves no entendre undoubled, no innuendo vague. An actor who has made a career out of mild characters onscreen, Nussbaum often swings to the opposite extreme onstage, and here as Gremio he is a crude genius.
Special thanks go to Bob Mason, who handled Casting for this production, for importing one of Canada’s most treasured actors, Stephen Ouimette. Well known to fans of Sundance Channel’s Slings and Arrows for his work as Oliver Welles, Ouimette played Charlotte Von Mahlsdorf in the Canadian premiere of Doug Wright’s epic one-person masterpiece I Am My Own Wife. Here, Ouimette crafts Petruchio’s long-suffering servant Grumio with a beguiling combination of ardor and resignation.
Fresh from her triumph as Joan Didion in The Year of Magical Thinking at Court Theatre, Mary Beth Fisher brings her profound understanding of the psychology of loss to her role as the Director in LaBute’s new Indiction segments. The Director’s meltdown matches in intensity the meaty hand with which she controls the action and her world. One of the many sweet morsels to be savored during this show is Fisher’s stage business at the director’s table during the early scenes.
A newcomer to Chicago Shakes, Ian Bedford is a perfect choice for Petruchio. So often, productions of The Shrew cast a scrawny, smarmy Petruchio to handle the host of clever rejoinders; hirsute and powerfully built, Bedford has the physicality and swagger to back up those witty words. His robust baritone makes such misogynies seem like Eternal Truths because they are uttered by such a sonorous, trustworthy voice. Bedford’s Petruchio is a much-needed correction to how this character should be portrayed.
Of course, The Taming of the Shrew is really Kate’s show, and Bianca Amato’s Katarina shines brilliantly. As Kate, she is unruly and virulently independent. As the actress playing Kate, she is full of apprehension about the rampant sexism that her traditional portrayal of Kate seems to tacitly endorse. The parallels between Petruchio and the actress’s lover, the Director, are not lost on Amato’s character. Mores and standards have changed since Shakespeare’s day, yet Amato reveals how deeply the issues of control and manipulation in the name of love resonate through The Shrew into contemporary contexts.
Director Josie Rourke has brought about a seamless fusion of clashing elements: of outdated ideas and modern relationships, of vocation and avocation, of fidelity of the spirit and fidelity of the flesh, of who leads and who follows.
Even if you hate the new frame, and I love Neil LaBute’s Induction, the Shakespearean meat of this production of The Taming of the Shrew is a glorious rendering of this controversial play. It serves as much more than a historically contextualized warning to Elizabeth I against the machinations of power-mad suitors; The Chicago Shakespeare Theatre’s unflinchingly raw and unerringly polished production of The Taming of the Shrew is a cautionary tale to anyone who might be so blinded by love or disdain that they cannot recognize when they are being played, their heartstrings cunningly plucked by a master manipulator. DO NOT MISS this gorgeous, lavish, resolute production.
4 STARS
(“The Taming of the Shrew” runs through June 6, 2010, at The Chicago Shakespeare Theatre, 800 East Grand Avenue (on Navy Pier). 312-595-5600.)
The Taming of the Shrew production photos by Liz Lauren.
