Shrew biz

The Bard just wants to have fun

by Johnette Rodriguez

Shakespeare is so often on the mark in the psychological make-up of his characters that they can seem amazingly contemporary in their commentary on human society. Thus, it's a bit of a mind-tussle, in this post-feminist era, to swallow the whole idea of a man "taming a woman," as Petruchio is said to do to Kate in The Taming of the Shrew. Numerous arguments have been made that it's a comedy placed securely in its time, a mockery of the age-old war of the sexes, with a late 16th-century audience cheering on each battle.

Yet looked at again in a modern light, and in the very hip, very energetic, slim, trim and wacky rendition by the Trinity Summer Shakespeare Project, the relationships do make a kind of sense. Kate is motherless; her sister is her father's favorite. Her only comfort is in tyrannizing everyone with her brash, rude and bad-tempered behavior, kind of a self-fulfilling prophesy since she feels that no one likes her to begin with.

Her father (played with proper solemnity and authority by Joy Besozzi) does understand that it will be hard to find a husband for the contentious Kate (Jenn Schulte gives us good feistiness), so he declares that she must be betrothed before he will agree to the engagement of her sister Bianca (a hilarious Mark Sutch) to one of Bianca's many love-sick suitors. Naturally this only creates more friction between the sisters.

Trinity's traveling band of Bardlings (they're all over Rhode Island and southeastern Massachusetts this summer; see "Theater" listings on page 24) are cast across gender lines by director Peter Sampieri and they are in multiple roles. Thus Mark Sutch is sometimes Grumio and sometimes Bianca-pleated skirt and beribboned wig come on for the latter; Scott Barrow, as the Magoo-like Gremio, carries three other minor roles; Laura Ames is the lovesick Hortensio who must console himself with a "widow" chosen from the audience (at the July 8 performance, the widow was a young man in a dress and wig, in keeping with the overall burlesque of this production). Andy MacDonald as Lucentio (and others) and Jay Bragan as Tranio (and Nathaniel) are also in fine fettle as the master and his man who switch identities so that Lucentio can woo Bianca.

Needless to say, the laughs come fast and furious, as this octet of players opens with an original cha-cha-cha musical number about "the shrew. One of them suggests renaming the play, "The Readjustment of the Fully-actualized Female," but that idea is trounced. Piped-in pop songs (including "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun") fill the scene changes and keep the pace pumped.

Stephan Wolfert is Petruchio, all bombast and braggadoccio, the consummate rebel in his black leather vest, gloves and boots, suspenders over his muscle T-shirt, garters holding up his socks. He is not troubled when informed about the fiery Kate for he is as eager to win her dowry as her hand.

He trades barbs and banter with the jock and jocular Kate, appareled in basketball shorts and shirt (SHREW 1) and carrying , dribbling or spinning an ever-present basketball (which also serves as a versatile prop). Wolfert and Schulte give us a Petruchio and Kate who are well-matched, wrestling both literally and verbally.

Director Sampieri and the players have interpreted Shakespeare's words in quite modern ways, that I'm sure might have coaxed a laught from the high-strung Willy himself-Wolfert shows up in an outrageous bridal veil for the wedding ("Fie! Doff this habit!") and whisks Kate away on a motorcycle ("I'll buckler thee against a million!"). But this production strikes close to the heart of the relationships.

Petruchio's passive-aggressive impudence to his new bride, keeping food from her on the pretext that it's not good enough, shows her more effectively than a long discussion ever could how resentments poison a marriage. And though Kate knows she's being bamboozled, she also responds to the constant attention. In the end, she understands that his attachment to her has less to do with money and more to do with genuine attraction, and her loyalty to him is sealed.

Though Kate's final declaration of abject subservience to her lord and master makes us flinch, this brash and breezy reading of the Bard seldom does. Though purists might scoff at the modern dress and music or at changing lines to suit the times-Bianca's suitors up their ante with her father by throwing in SUVs and a private jet-the Saturday Night Live tone seems to capture the spirit of outrageous satire in Shakespeare's comedies, and the result is quite fun and very funny.