This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2016/06/14/theater/review-petruchio-is-a-woman-and-courtship-is-a-beauty-pageant-in-this-taming-of-the-shrew.html

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
Review: Petruchio Is a Woman, and Courtship Is a Beauty Pageant, in This ‘Taming of the Shrew’ Review: Petruchio Is a Woman, and Courtship Is a Beauty Pageant, in This ‘Taming of the Shrew’
(21 days later)
Everybody runs wild in Phyllida Lloyd’s riotous, all-female production of “The Taming of the Shrew,” which opened with a rebel yell at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park on Monday night. But don’t mistake freedom of movement for freedom itself.Everybody runs wild in Phyllida Lloyd’s riotous, all-female production of “The Taming of the Shrew,” which opened with a rebel yell at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park on Monday night. But don’t mistake freedom of movement for freedom itself.
These frenzied folks are all living in a state of captivity, whether they know it or not. It seems utterly apt when the tamer of the title, Petruchio (the fabulous Janet McTeer), shows up for his wedding day with a pair of pink handcuffs dangling from his wrist. Of course, at this point, he doesn’t understand just how much the joke is on him.These frenzied folks are all living in a state of captivity, whether they know it or not. It seems utterly apt when the tamer of the title, Petruchio (the fabulous Janet McTeer), shows up for his wedding day with a pair of pink handcuffs dangling from his wrist. Of course, at this point, he doesn’t understand just how much the joke is on him.
Since this is a play about courtship, you might be tempted to call its inhabitants prisoners of love. But no, they’re prisoners of sex. I mean the kind that you have to check in boxes marked “M” and “F” on official documents.Since this is a play about courtship, you might be tempted to call its inhabitants prisoners of love. But no, they’re prisoners of sex. I mean the kind that you have to check in boxes marked “M” and “F” on official documents.
In recent years, Ms. Lloyd — the British director whose eclectic stage credits range from “Mamma Mia!” to the Broadway revival of “Mary Stuart” — has proved herself a master of using women to plumb the murk of manliness in Shakespeare. For the Donmar Warehouse in London, she created inspired, all-female productions of “Julius Caesar” and “Henry IV” (which traveled to St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn).In recent years, Ms. Lloyd — the British director whose eclectic stage credits range from “Mamma Mia!” to the Broadway revival of “Mary Stuart” — has proved herself a master of using women to plumb the murk of manliness in Shakespeare. For the Donmar Warehouse in London, she created inspired, all-female productions of “Julius Caesar” and “Henry IV” (which traveled to St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn).
These interpretations, set in a women’s prison, cannily used the perceptible distance between actresses and their roles to point out the artificiality of masculine posturing. Such traits, it seemed, could be donned the way a female impersonator might put on false eyelashes and high heels.These interpretations, set in a women’s prison, cannily used the perceptible distance between actresses and their roles to point out the artificiality of masculine posturing. Such traits, it seemed, could be donned the way a female impersonator might put on false eyelashes and high heels.
To say that Ms. Lloyd’s take on “Shrew,” the most notoriously prickly of Shakespeare’s depictions of love as a battlefield, is not as subtle as those earlier ventures is putting it mildly. It’s both sillier and more seriously, overtly political. But this production — which features a vibrant Cush Jumbo as Petruchio’s unwilling bride, Katherina — also uses the idea of theatrical role-playing to suggest how wearing masks can both entrap (in real life) and liberate (on a stage).To say that Ms. Lloyd’s take on “Shrew,” the most notoriously prickly of Shakespeare’s depictions of love as a battlefield, is not as subtle as those earlier ventures is putting it mildly. It’s both sillier and more seriously, overtly political. But this production — which features a vibrant Cush Jumbo as Petruchio’s unwilling bride, Katherina — also uses the idea of theatrical role-playing to suggest how wearing masks can both entrap (in real life) and liberate (on a stage).
This is as true for the actresses playing women, whose attire is largely limited to either prom-style or baby-doll dresses, as for those playing men, with their bound breasts, business suits and muscle shirts. (Mark Thompson did the costumes.) Even Ms. McTeer’s Petruchio, who dresses and struts like an aging rock star who’s constantly monitoring his testosterone level, starts to look as if he couldn’t wait to slip into something more comfortable.This is as true for the actresses playing women, whose attire is largely limited to either prom-style or baby-doll dresses, as for those playing men, with their bound breasts, business suits and muscle shirts. (Mark Thompson did the costumes.) Even Ms. McTeer’s Petruchio, who dresses and struts like an aging rock star who’s constantly monitoring his testosterone level, starts to look as if he couldn’t wait to slip into something more comfortable.
Though Shakespeare wrote “Shrew” as a play-within-a-play for a drunk named Christopher Sly, Ms. Lloyd has come up with another framing device. That’s a beauty pageant, in which women vie for the title of Miss Padua. Mr. Thompson’s set brings to mind a threadbare traveling circus, with its fading striped bunting and quaint peeling trailers. (Kitschy images of the Madonna-whore dichotomy of womanhood abound throughout.) Though Shakespeare wrote “Shrew” as a play-within-a-play for a drunk named Christopher Sly, Ms. Lloyd has come up with another framing device. That’s a beauty pageant, in which women vie for the title of Miss Lombardy. Mr. Thompson’s set brings to mind a threadbare traveling circus, with its fading striped bunting and quaint peeling trailers. (Kitschy images of the Madonna-whore dichotomy of womanhood abound throughout.)
But there’s something strangely topical about the voice of the unseen M.C., who comments, barker-style, as scantily clad contestants tap-dance, sing and twirl batons. Doesn’t he sound kind of like the man behind the Miss Universe pageant, currently moonlighting as a presidential candidate?But there’s something strangely topical about the voice of the unseen M.C., who comments, barker-style, as scantily clad contestants tap-dance, sing and twirl batons. Doesn’t he sound kind of like the man behind the Miss Universe pageant, currently moonlighting as a presidential candidate?
This election-year “Shrew” obviously makes no pretense of being nonpartisan. It even features a stand-up routine in which one of the cast members (Judy Gold, as Gremio) steps out of her role (while remaining in character as a man) to comment on the indignity of serving a female director (and perhaps even a female president).This election-year “Shrew” obviously makes no pretense of being nonpartisan. It even features a stand-up routine in which one of the cast members (Judy Gold, as Gremio) steps out of her role (while remaining in character as a man) to comment on the indignity of serving a female director (and perhaps even a female president).
But even with such interpolations, Ms. Lloyd’s streamlined “Shrew” (a bouncy two hours, with no intermission) manages to tell Shakespeare’s original tale with briskness and clarity. And without disrupting its governing tone of a carnival-cum-political-rally, it sheds a bright light on patterns of language and behavior in the play.But even with such interpolations, Ms. Lloyd’s streamlined “Shrew” (a bouncy two hours, with no intermission) manages to tell Shakespeare’s original tale with briskness and clarity. And without disrupting its governing tone of a carnival-cum-political-rally, it sheds a bright light on patterns of language and behavior in the play.
That includes the idea of women — including Katherina and her sister, the pouty Bianca (Gayle Rankin) — as market commodities, to be bought and bargained for. (The show is punctuated with the sight of cash-filled briefcases.)That includes the idea of women — including Katherina and her sister, the pouty Bianca (Gayle Rankin) — as market commodities, to be bought and bargained for. (The show is punctuated with the sight of cash-filled briefcases.)
And I had forgotten the extent to which this play uses the common Shakespearean device of people’s pretending to be other people to achieve their goals, a stratagem that acquires new layers when these duplicitous men are portrayed by women. (The joyful cast members, who wear their masculinity without a burlesque wink, include Rosa Gilmore, Adrienne C. Moore, LaTanya Richardson Jackson and Donna Lynne Champlin.)And I had forgotten the extent to which this play uses the common Shakespearean device of people’s pretending to be other people to achieve their goals, a stratagem that acquires new layers when these duplicitous men are portrayed by women. (The joyful cast members, who wear their masculinity without a burlesque wink, include Rosa Gilmore, Adrienne C. Moore, LaTanya Richardson Jackson and Donna Lynne Champlin.)
These plot-propelling disguises feed a larger notion of doubleness, which finds its most eloquent embodiment in the lanky person of Ms. McTeer. Known for her virtuosic turns in such classic roles as Nora in “A Doll’s House” (for which she won a Tony Award) and the title character of “Mary Stuart,” Ms. McTeer here gives us a Petruchio who is both a brazen caricature and an unnerving psychological study.These plot-propelling disguises feed a larger notion of doubleness, which finds its most eloquent embodiment in the lanky person of Ms. McTeer. Known for her virtuosic turns in such classic roles as Nora in “A Doll’s House” (for which she won a Tony Award) and the title character of “Mary Stuart,” Ms. McTeer here gives us a Petruchio who is both a brazen caricature and an unnerving psychological study.
From the moment he makes his entrance, fresh from what appears to be yet another one-night stand, this Petruchio clearly relishes being perceived as one wild and crazy guy. But there’s a sense of strain within the swaggering persona.From the moment he makes his entrance, fresh from what appears to be yet another one-night stand, this Petruchio clearly relishes being perceived as one wild and crazy guy. But there’s a sense of strain within the swaggering persona.
As Petruchio proceeds to woo, marry and subdue (through deprivation and humiliation) the rebellious Katherina, his eyes grow more feverish and uncertain. I found myself thinking of Mark Rylance’s Hamlet, when the prince’s assumed madness seemed to teeter on the abyss of genuine insanity. Ms. McTeer’s Petruchio is an outsize comic portrait, but there’s a glimmer of tragedy in her gaze.As Petruchio proceeds to woo, marry and subdue (through deprivation and humiliation) the rebellious Katherina, his eyes grow more feverish and uncertain. I found myself thinking of Mark Rylance’s Hamlet, when the prince’s assumed madness seemed to teeter on the abyss of genuine insanity. Ms. McTeer’s Petruchio is an outsize comic portrait, but there’s a glimmer of tragedy in her gaze.
Ms. Jumbo, a rising British stage star internationally known for her appearances on “The Good Wife,” finds the natural woman in Katherina. The default anger feels like a perfectly logical response to the way a woman in her time and place is treated.Ms. Jumbo, a rising British stage star internationally known for her appearances on “The Good Wife,” finds the natural woman in Katherina. The default anger feels like a perfectly logical response to the way a woman in her time and place is treated.
But she also gives us (as much as the truncated text allows) an awareness of Kate’s developing attraction to Petruchio, and you can feel her trying hard to go along with his imperious demands without submerging her own strong personality. She delivers Kate’s always unpalatable final speech, about a wife’s duty to her husband, with an edge of increasingly anguished doubt.But she also gives us (as much as the truncated text allows) an awareness of Kate’s developing attraction to Petruchio, and you can feel her trying hard to go along with his imperious demands without submerging her own strong personality. She delivers Kate’s always unpalatable final speech, about a wife’s duty to her husband, with an edge of increasingly anguished doubt.
“What am I doing here? How did I get here?” she seems to be saying. (In fact, in this production she actually does more or less say that, but never mind.) And in a way, that S.O.S. has been broadcast throughout by everyone onstage, including Petruchio.“What am I doing here? How did I get here?” she seems to be saying. (In fact, in this production she actually does more or less say that, but never mind.) And in a way, that S.O.S. has been broadcast throughout by everyone onstage, including Petruchio.
For the finale, the cast members tear open their shirts and, figuratively or literally, let down their hair for a gleefully angry rendition of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation.” Whew! Their relief at finally being unconfined lights up the night.For the finale, the cast members tear open their shirts and, figuratively or literally, let down their hair for a gleefully angry rendition of Joan Jett’s “Bad Reputation.” Whew! Their relief at finally being unconfined lights up the night.