Let’s just get this out of the way right now: The Taming of the Shrew is not one of my favorite plays. It’s not that it’s terribly written or uninteresting (in fact, it uses an “Induction” pseudo-frame story intro that is intriguing and singular in all of Billy’s plays) but it’s just… *sigh* problematic. I sometimes tire of invoking “problematic” all the time as a thirty-something woman this day and age in America, but after reading two male critics’ opinions insisting that people who interpret the text as simple surface misogyny are not “getting it” and one female theatre director’s hot take that Shrew is exactly THAT, I am convinced this is still a PROBLEM PLAY. Especially since some stagings include the principal male character either using a whip or a dog leash on the principal female character for the sake of laughs. Like, damn.
It’s nice that we have a few creative filmic interpretations lying around, because otherwise I would be tempted to pass this over for better fare. The famous musical version, Kiss Me Kate, was brought to cinemas in 1953, based on the 1948 Broadway play. The reliably clever Cole Porter delights with “Brush Up Your Shakespeare,” which includes such lyrics as “If she says your behavior is heinous/Kick her right in the Coriolanus!” Gotta love it! (I really do; it’s my new favorite song).
A few real-life Hollywood couples portrayed the quarrelling “lovers” as well. Most famous is probably the lush 1967 version with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor (were they acting though?) and what I find more interesting from a film history viewpoint: the 1929 pre-code six-reeler starring silent-era superstars Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford. It’s the first talking version of a Shakespeare play committed to the silver screen and Mary’s second talkie (Doug did a “part-talkie” right beforehand). Their marriage was on ice at the time, and while Doug had some stage training and revelled in the swashbuckling side of Petruchio, Mary had no such acting experience and paled in comparison. She hated it. The on-screen confrontations probably had real-life inspiration (were they acting, though?) but it must have been titillating for theatre audiences to witness their two fav stars go at it for the first time in the same film. Full disclosure: I adore Doug Fairbanks and his son Jr. as well. They’re both so dashing and handsome :)
Then there’s the classic 90’s teen comedy 10 Things I Hate About You starring snobbish Julia Stiles as Kat, Larisa “Secret Adventures of Alex Mack” Oleynik as the popular virginal Bianca, and the offensively coiffed Heath Ledger as “Patrick,” the bad boy shrew-tamer. Thank GOD for this film. It singlehandedly makes the whole premise of Shrew tolerable and even fun because you’d expect this kind of shallow, ridiculous, and sophomoric sexist bullshit from teenagers. So it’s perfect. It even addressed racist and sexist tropes of the day head-on, which was refreshing, if awkwardly hilarious. 10 Things is actually one of the best adaptations of Shakespeare available. Enjoy it sometime.
As mentioned, this play begins with a perpetually bemusing “Induction” before the first act. A dull, poor drunkard, Christopher Sly, passes out in the street and two Lords come and take him home, hoping to play a trick on him when he wakes up. He rouses and everyone treats him like he’s a Lord himself who just has a strange illness in which he goes into fits of amnesia and forgets he’s rich. He meets a male page dressed as his “wife,” and tries to bed her, but she coyly comes up with an excuse before a messenger announces the arrival of some players who want to put on a play for him: “The Taming of the Shrew.”
Suddenly, we’re in Padua, where young Lucentio and his man Tranio talk about how he’s come to matriculate, but as soon as he spots beautiful Bianca (followed by Hortensio and Gremio clamoring for her hand in marriage), he loses his little mind. Baptista, Bianca’s father, will not let anyone marry his younger, sweeter daughter until someone takes Katharina off his hands. She illustrates why this is a problem as soon as she opens her mouth to insult everyone around her. Baptista also wishes for his daughters to get them some learnin’ on, which gives Bianca’s suitors a lightbulb: team up to get Katharina married off so they can then duke it out over Bianca. Lucentio decides to dress as a schoolmaster, makes Tranio dress as himself, with the instructions to woo Bianca on his behalf, therefore coming at her from two angles.
At this point, Sly is falling asleep and wishes the play were over with already. I feel ya, buddy.
Petruchio waltzes into town, telling everyone within barking distance that he’s there to “wive it wealthily in Padua” and he makes no bones about it. Hortensio is glad to see him and incidentally, has a proposal: go woo Katharina so her sister will be freed up, and introduce him (Hortensio) as a tutor to Baptista so he can hang out with Bianca. Gremio thinks this a good plan, though he warns Petruchio that Katharina is a shitshow and Petruchio is even more confident that this will be fine. They all “quaff carouses” (my new favorite drinking term) and decide to be friends.
Katharina ties up Bianca, as every elder sister does to her junior at some point, and harrasses her about her suitors. Their father breaks up their fighting and then Gremio and Petruchio show up. Petruchio says he will gladly marry his eldest, most lovely daughter, and that he also brings some tutors for him to use at his disposal. Baptista hires them and Tranio (in Lucentio drag) enters with a gift of books and lute and his intentions to woo Bianca. Baptista hires the tutors and sends them to his daughters. Petruchio starts in on the dowry negotiations, insisting to Baptista that he is ultra serious about winning Kate’s heart. Hortensio re-enters with a headache and a broken lute, which Kate has broken upon his pate. Petruchio loves this and can’t wait to meet her.
The Shrew finally comes down from her room. She and Petruchio get into it right away, trading barbs like pro archers, mockery flying back and forth for several minutes. She also bristles when he insists that she is called plain “Kate.” When Baptista re-enters, Petruchio victoriously declares that Kate has agreed to the match and they shall marry in a few days. He flies off back to Venice to prepare while Bianca’s suitors drool like Pavlov’s dogs, ready for a fight. They brag about their financial largesse until Tranio (as Lucentio) wins.
Real Lucentio and Hortensio get hand-slappy about whose turn it is to teach Bianca, and she says she will be taught when she is good and ready to be taught. Hortensio sets to tuning his lute while she learns Latin from Lucentio. He inserts words of adoration between his Latin phrases. Hortensio sneaks her a love note, but she rolls her eyes and Hortensio worries that Lucentio is falling for her (DUH).
It’s soon the wedding day and Kate is dressed and ready and waiting impatiently for her betrothed. She wails that his tardiness adds insult to injury, and that she will be called mad Petruchio’s mad wife. Biondello comes to tell Baptista that Petruchio is on his way but is attired in such a manner that any onlooker would call “batshit," and he’s riding a dirty, tumor-ridden horse to boot. Petruchio is merry and despite Kate’s protests, takes his bride into the church to marry anyway.
Tranio tells Lucentio that they need to come up with a father so Baptista can agree to his match with Bianca. Gremio, having just witnessed the marriage ceremony inside the church, iterates the scene: Petruchio made a total ass of himself, making Kate appear docile by comparison. Petruchio comes out and informs everyone that they may feast without him, as he will be carrying his blushing wife off to his home. She dissents, but he carts her off anyway, leaving the wedding party to think they make a good match after all.
At Petruchio’s humble country house, a frozen Grumio and other servants prepare for the arrival of the master and his mistress. Apparently, Kate fell off her horse into the mud and her husband didn’t blink. When they enter the house, Petruchio barges in and treats everyone like shit, telling them the food they prepared is burnt and crap, and therefore he takes Kate up to bed without dinner, and she feels bad for the servants, as well as herself. He makes a little speech about how he is using the same training techniques falconers use with their birds of prey.
Back in Padua, Lucentio and Bianca start snogging as Hortensio and Tranio watch, and they soon give up on winning her. Hortensio sulks off, saying he has a widow on the side who is keen on him, and Tranio tells Lucentio that they are rid of Hortensio for good. Biondello has found some poor pedant out on the street who can play Vincentio--father of "Lucentio."
Back in Casa De Petruchio, Kate is begging Grumio to bring her some nosh--anything at all, but he keeps insisting that it’s all “choleric.” When Petruchio and Hortensio come in with a plate of meat, Petruchio orders Hortensio to eat it all before Kate can get a bite. He distracts her by calling in a tailor and a haberdasher to design some beautiful new duds for her, but he tosses all the threads away even though she likes them. He says they’ll have to go to Baptista’s house dressed as they are. He starts in on his gaslighting routine first by insisting it is seven o’clock when she knows it is two o’clock.
“Vincentio” arrives at Baptista’s house and he assures him that he will allow his son to marry Bianca. Lucentio decides he wants to elope with his bride.
On the road to Baptista’s house, Petruchio says the sun is the moon and the moon the sun and Hortensio suggests Kate agrees with whatever he says or they’ll never get a move on, so she rolls her eyes and nods. They meet the real Vincentio, and Petruchio calls him a young maiden, and Kate plays along, confusing the shit out of Vincentio. When Petruchio realizes who he is, he laughs and says that he and his son will be brothers-in-law soon, because Lucentio us about to marry Bianca. Hortensio once again says he’s going to find his widow.
Lucentio and Bianca are off to elope while Petruchio and Co. arrive in town. A lowercase comedy of errors ensues as the real Vincentio encounters and argues with his simulacrum along with Biondello and Tranio who pretend to not know their own master. Vincentio assumes that these two flunkies are out pissing away his real son's money or had murdered him or both. Finally Lucentio and Binanca step in and clear things up so the real Vincentio and Baptista can hash out another dowry deal. Petruchio gently begs his wife for a kiss and though she's embarrased, she obliges.
At the wedding reception, everyone's getting trashed, and Hortensio's widow wife slags off Kate. The men take bets on which wife will win a battle of wits. Bianca, Kate, and the Widow leave the room and the men debate about which wife will come to them when asked. Both Lucentio and Hortensio send for their wives and neither return, but when Petruchio calls for Kate, she enters obediently. She brings the other ladies in and then proceeeds to spew a verbose, fawning, sycophantic oration about a proper wife's duties to her husband that even if delivered with winking irony would be enough to make a Mormon wife puke. Everyone's jaws drop. The End.
If it were really so obvious that Kate was still left “untamed” at the end, or that she and Petruchio share a wink because they embarrassed Bianca’s husband on purpose by pretending Kate had become a reformed, delicate lady, then why does the text feel so tortured whenever anyone interprets it that way? Perhaps old William was just taking the piss again, having written a grossly base battle of the sexes just to give his audiences a break from the horror of last week’s Titus. Who knows?
Although Shrew is definitely a problem, I don’t believe for a second that this piece of work proves William's endorsement of male dominance and patriarchy. He was a (possibly libertine) artist in London, making a living by hanging out with weird actors all day. He was not your average Joe Shmoe traditionalist bastard off the street. His sonnets and longform poems are testament enough to that--the guy had a heart and could imagine a woman’s POV when occasion called for it. So whatever this upchuck of a play was, at least it paid some bills. I cannot WAIT for the high comedies at this point. One more experimental one to go before one of my favorites is on deck.
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