Last weekend, I had the unique experience of attending a play with someone who has undoubtedly seen more theater than I have. Joining me at the Tennessee Shakespeare Company was my dear friend Elen Wroten, a cellist who has toured with theatrical companies for decades. As such, her reaction to The Taming of the Shrew was something I held in higher esteem than my own, opinionated though I may be. Well, Ms. Wroten laughed, cried, and made time in between to declare “I hate men! … But when he started singing that song …” I suspect even the most inexperienced theatergoer could expect to run through a similar gamut of emotions during this charming production.
If you’re unfamiliar with this particular Shakespearean romantic comedy, I could try explaining it to you, but as is typical of old William, the plot quickly becomes so convoluted and harebrained that things would probably go faster if I point out that the story has been adapted into several modern works that can be called classics in their own right. Musical-lovers are surely as familiar with Kiss Me Kate as Millennials are with Heath Ledger’s iconic bad-boy persona in 10 Things I Hate About You. Both are, of course, retellings of The Taming of the Shrew, and it’s an ongoing testament to Shakespeare’s work that the story can live just as happily in a 1990s rom-com as in a 1940s radio broadcast, as it is presented in this production.
This show cleverly redirects the classic “play within a play” that’s essential to The Taming of the Shrew by setting the show in a live radio broadcast during World War II, which allows a Shakespearean classic to be harmoniously interwoven with Big Band Americana. The result is a musical, but not one like I’ve ever seen before. While show-stopping numbers belted out in true Broadway fashion might be what the term “musical” usually alludes to, this setting allows for something softer, though no less alluring.
I will admit I have a bias here — my own singalong playlists feature several of the numbers folded into this production, and I have always favored the crooner style of singing. My own sensibilities aside, hearing the rich and buttery quality evoked by ’40s music is a rare treat in live theater, one that could so easily clash with Elizabethan language. But thanks to the mastery of the performers, these elements blend seamlessly.
When it comes to Elizabethan language, I would be loath to leave out that the company here clearly understands that Shakespeare is funny. Every actor has their moment, something that as an audience member is delightfully satisfying. As the show points out, comedy is hard. Making it look easy takes real skill, and I would offer my congratulations to everyone in this production for making it look effortless.
My one gripe, which I had preconceived years ago upon my first viewing of The Taming of the Shrew, was mitigated by the presentation of the play within the play. As I alluded to previously, it’s practically impossible to watch The Taming of the Shrew as a feminist without feeling some ire towards men as a whole. The notion of instilling psychological torment in order to make a wife less “difficult,” is … well, distasteful, to say the absolute least, even if in Shakespeare’s time it was revolutionary to leave out physical violence in such a show. However, this production turns the notion of the shrew neatly on its head by having the 1940s storyline flip roles. The man is the “shrew” here, and in the end, he makes the effort, in a tidy inversion of the end of the Shakespearean storyline. There, Petruchio summons Kate in a showy demonstration of her obedience. But in the WWII version … well, I don’t want to spoil it for you. But a more modern, more equitable ending is what we’re left with. If you’re anything like my friend Elen, this is the part where you’ll cry.
The Taming of the Shrew runs at Tennessee Shakespeare Company through February 15th.