Shakespeare’s love-hate comedy returns to the Globe, in a new production bringing a more callow approach to its maddening storyline. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this modernized revision ends up killing it in its own humour.
“Could you stop being such a b*tch?”. I wonder how many times actors, directors, writers and everyone who runs into me (though probably they’d rather run away – or over!) come to that thought every time I give them a piece of my mind – I would try to defend myself by saying that I comes directly from my heart, but you know… In a world dominated by an excruciating control of political corrected, opinionated people have as many chances of being popular as you’re likely to find articulate people around Soho on Saturday night – it’s just not gonna happen. And when that attitude ignites the flame on something as stable as a marriage relationship, well, what are the odds of things not going your way?
It’s well believed that no true artist can be granted such title if they are exempt from controversy. If that’s really the case, Shakespeare is no doubt the utmost consummation of that idea. From allegations of strong antisemitic views to almost every possible kind of prejudice in the book, the Bard’s oeuvre is both revered and despised by scholars and ignoramuses alike – leading to what can only be considered as the ultimate effect of intellectual craftsmanship: it stirs an emotion, it triggers a reaction and it provokes a thought (for some).
The Taming of the Shrew is no anomaly to that rule. Framed as a fiction-within-a-fiction (to some historians, the Bard’s attempt to tone down any possible backlash), the play deals with an arranged marriage between a dominant man and a disobedient wife – concluding with the male figure winning over her spouse after employing a series of manipulative tactics to destroy her sense of determination. Observed through those spectacles, it would be delusional to even hint it’s aged well. But it would be equally (no pun intended) naive to even ponder such shallowness as an element of Shakespeare’s writing.
Directed by Jude Christian, the Globe’s new version puts emphasis on the childish traits of its personages (perhaps, as a way of teasing the lack of maturity that a society allowing that kind of mindset might be suffering from) – which, combined with the use of puppets, slapstick moments and, all in all, over-the-top farcical components, only seems to underline that statement. But as much as the author’s comedies rely on absurd situations, a lack of subtlety in its delivery does very little good (not to mention, the opposite) to its success.
Though counting on a highly competent cast, Christian’s interpretation fails to provide enough excitement and poignancy to the recount – adding too many unnecessary components that prevent the piece from pouring out its exceptional potential. It’s an understandable approach as for the reason that may have led to it (in the end, the characters’ demeanor are far from inspiring), but that suggests that perhaps the play’s intention either have been misconceived or that there is a fear that audiences may get them wrong.
There’s a point in that last argument – especially, when during the performance you attend, not only do viewers boo Petruchio, but keep shouting woo-hoos at Katherine as if she was some sort of 1500s pop idol. However, we should keep our hopes up for more sophisticated visitors to come over (we’re not asking much, just the type that understand that not every rendition is a panto) – and trust they will get the Bard’s not-so-blunt purposes: presenting this somehow dark-humourous narrative as a cautionary tale; in other words, how things should not turn out.
Despite its unsatisfactory directional choices, the company manages to captivate through rather charming and, eventually, highly proficient portrayals. Among them, John Cummins exude an incredible comedy bone as Biondello, matched in perfect rapport with Lizzie Hopley’s camp-over-camp take on Hortensio. Yet, the greatest praise goes this time to Andrew Leung in the role of Petruchio, endowing the part with intoxicating stamina, naturalness and likability despite the character’s questionable principles.
A gripping opportunity for new, creative ways of boosting the endurance of a far-from-dated chronicle, The Taming of Shrew dodges its arete by presenting an excessively domesticated perception of what could have been a genuinely hilarious, insightful and, finally, memorable concoction. A more solidified conviction about the original text (eluding all unrequested tweaks that, ultimately, provide more flaws than solutions) is crucial to return the play to its former glory, and let its still unreleased power blaze out. It still may tackle with a tale of Venice, but its watered down energy averts any chance of leaving so in love.
The Taming of the Shrew plays at London’s Shakespeare’s Globe until 26 October. Tickets are available on the following link.
All pictures credit to Ellie Kurttz.