Commonwealth Classic's "Taming of the Shrew'

Shakespeare gets the 'Happy Days' treatment

JIM RUTTER

Some reporters recently began reprinting jokes told by John McCain at various points during his political career. Some of them (example: "Why is Chelsea Clinton so ugly? Because her father is Janet Reno") demeaned or degraded women, forcing McCain to backpedal away from (or deny indulging in) severely incorrect humor that seemed like harmless, even acceptable fun at the time.

I thought about McCain’s condemnation by “presentist” critics while watching Commonwealth Classic Theatre Company’s current staging of Shakespeare’s allegedly offensive, misogynistic and sexist Taming of the Shrew. Shrew isn’t considered as controversial as the outright ethnic prejudice of The Merchant of Venice, but it can still generate debate, especially over Katherine’s final speech about a woman’s proper place in a man’s world. In either case, playing Shrew nowadays with the earnestness of the 16th Century (when, like it or not, the play’s attitudes made sense) is sure to provoke a hostile, if not self-righteous reaction.

Padua’s town square as a dime-store soda shop

In his Philadelphia directorial debut, Damon Bonetti initially dodges controversy by lifting his shrewish Katherine out of the Elizabethan era and plunking her down into 1950s America, turning Padua’s town square into a dime-store soda shop where a roller-skating waitress serves strawberry milkshakes to the suitors of Bianca (Krista Apple). With one exception (see below), costume designer Jennifer Zumpf further dampens any controversy and completes this shrew’s transformation by dressing Hortensio (Paul Parente) and Gremio (Bill Pollock) as clones of the fictitious ’50s icons George McFly and Thurston Howell (respectively). Zumpf also outfits Bianca in a long white dress and bobby socks, and decks Lucentio (Nick Martorelli) in a varsity jacket and prep squad straw hat.

When Petruchio (Josh Browns) arrives— seeking his fortune after his father’s death— Bonetti’s production transforms him and his sidekick Grumio (Dave Johnson) into a pair of ex-Navy bikers (though Browns— heavily goateed and wearing a black leather jacket and captain’s hat— looked more like a bear on his way to a leather bar).

I was initially disappointed that Bonetti failed to mine the alleged sexual repression of the ’50s. In any production of Shrew, Baptista (Jerry Puma) still controls the future of his two daughters and won’t let the superficially sweet Bianca marry until he’s found a husband for tart Katherine. And Petruchio— almost on a bet (he’s seeking his fortune in Katherine’s large dowry)— must still break her.

More bratty than bitch

But Browns plays his frat-boy Petruchio more in the spirit of Animal House’s harmless if wild Bluto Blutarsky, knocking about the stage with a goofy grin that rarely appears villainous. His cruel treatment of the servants becomes merely one more gag that they’re in on, carried out not to assert his dominance but only to teasingly torment Katherine. The panic in Baldwin’s eyes proves that she’s suitably terrified, but even here, Arnold Kendall’s senile servant—drooling a hot dog from his zombie-like expression—makes it impossible not to laugh.

Trice Baldwin played Katherine as more bratty than bitch, a girl more socially inept at navigating the carefree, flirty manners of the time than a sinister scold seeking to dominate her household. I’ve seen especially violent productions in which Katherine beats her sister (and gets beaten in turn herself), but Baldwin substitutes titty-twisters and wet-willies for violence, rendering Katherine just a girl with bad manners. Meanwhile, Bianca— like any youngest daughter— knows how to manipulate daddy with fake tears, and even when she’s faking that big, syrupy smile, Apple’s lighthearted spirit is a true joy to watch.

3-D glasses and White Castle hamburgers

Rather than pose questions of a woman’s place in society, this Shrew instead asks: What’s more troubling, that Katherine, who “never knew how to entreat anyone,” grew up lacking any manners, or that a man should have to come along and “correct” all her bad habits? Unlike John McCain’s backpedaling, Bonetti’s direction states a clear message: This is beyond harmless; it’s summertime; we’re doing Shakespeare in the park; so sit back with your picnic, open a bottle of wine, and enjoy.

And it’s in the comedy that Bonetti’s production succeeds most, with smart humor that infuses the spirit of the ’50s into all of the script’s humorous embellishments. The doltish Biondello (Andrew Gorell) sports 3-D glasses that effect close-talking frights; Grumio draws pass-this-note-in-class sketches in ever-smaller composition books; and the wedding feast consists of hot dogs and hamburgers from White Castle. Even when Petruchio tells Grumio to “draw forth my weapon,” he only attacks his 1950s listeners with the unfamiliar, harsh chords of an electric guitar.

A real-life husband and wife

Commonwealth’s production only turns nasty once, when Petruchio chides Katherine for always crossing him in everything he says and does. But here it’s only a look and the threat to take her home that serves as warning, while ultimately Baldwin and Browns (husband and wife in real life) gloss over even this snag with a chemistry that truly sparkles.

While Bonetti avoided controversy, he couldn’t sidestep the dilemma that stifles any production of Taming of the Shrew. Treat Shrew like a history piece— making both Katherine and Petruchio especially vicious— and the ending makes sense while the direction reasserts the drama’s malicious misogyny. But downgrade the notion of "breaking" an unruly woman— either by transplanting it to another era or by minimizing the viciousness (or in Bonetti's case, both)— and Katherine’s final submissiveness appears tacked on, even senseless.

After watching Commonwealth's production, I can understand why some Shakespeare critics now want to reclassify Taming of the Shrew as one of the Bard’s "problem plays.” I realize that the problem lies in a modern audience, for whom Shrew’s ending can no longer fit a politically acceptable production. Luckily for us, McCain’s jokes have gone out of fashion, but Bonetti’s clever comedy and ’50’s innuendo can still make us laugh.