Any current production of The Taming of the Shrew risks running afoul of modern audiences — big time. After all, the plot revolves around the brutalization of an intelligent, independent-thinking woman who rejects the notion that she must marry in order to please her wealthy father. For years audiences have seen apologies onstage, sometimes actually recited before the show begins. Here, a unique approach is taken by having all the roles played by women. Except for an awkward turnaround at the very end, director Phyllida Lloyd has created a world in which the folly of men is exposed; of course, they’re swine with outrageous sensibilities. They can’t help themselves; they’re jerks. Front and center is the brilliant Janet McTeer, whose strutting, posturing Petruchio comes across as a bad boy who’s just out to make a quick buck by marrying a rich girl. He doesn’t care if she’s bad natured and difficult, as long as the dowry is enormous. His long greasy blond hair, skinny body dressed in ratty clothes, and tough-guy leather jacket are emblematic of his thuggish personality. McTeer has added a maniacal laugh, and frequent nose thumbing, to complete the portrait of this semi-adult bad boy. Cush Jumbo plays a Katherina who is every bit his match. She’s beyond spunky, and speaks her mind loudly and clearly. Their mutual repulsion/attraction sparks an immediately volatile confrontation. Several topical elements spice up the production. The show begins with a voice-over that clearly is meant to be Donald Trump, and his Miss Universe beauty contest takes center stage. The imitation is dead on, and the audience loves it. Katherina’s dim younger sister, Bianca (Gayle Rankin), fits right in. She’s stereotypically blonde and dumb, and all the guys are crazy for her. According to custom, Katherina must be married before Bianca can wed. Thus, a plan is hatched to find someone who can envision a life with shrewish Katherina. Another tropical reference comes during a rant about how ridiculous it is to have the play directed by a woman; obviously not in the original script, this audience pleaser announces that now, we may have a woman president, and the theater explodes with cheers. Part of the fun of seeing a performance of Shakespeare in the Park involves never knowing what may happen next. For this performance, the audience was treated to the recurring appearance of a plump raccoon on the far side of stage left. He made a half-dozen forays from behind a flat, much to the delight of spectators. Either whatever food is there should be removed, or he should receive credit in the Playbill. The action is cleverly staged and fast paced at two hours, with no intermission. All the players acquit themselves well, and the fat which has been cut from the script isn’t missed. There’s no real explanation for the scenery depicting a shabby, broken-down carnival, but that doesn’t detract from the merriment. The question of the hour is whether or not the idea of an all-female Taming of the Shrew actually works. The answer is that with this outstanding cast, it certainly does.
