There's an intriguing statistic in the programme. Between 1908 and 1944, The Taming of the Shrew was staged almost every year in Stratford. Since 1960, however, there have been a more modest 13 RSC versions. Peggy Ashcroft's star turn as Kate may have had something to do with this but the rapidly changing gender politics of the past half-century are certainly part of the equation. It's an uneasy-making play for modern audiences, as Kate is forced to submit utterly - and humiliatingly - to her new husband's will. A more positive reading that tends to dominate newer takes suggests Kate is somehow colluding in a "game". Here director Lucy Bailey angles the whole thing as five acts of foreplay to, as she describes it, "the best sex ever".
There can be no doubt that congress is item number one on the agenda right from the wearisome Induction, not least because Ruth Sutcliffe's design transforms the stage into one giant, raked marriage bed. Unfortunately, this concept quickly hunkers down into an awkward tussle with Bailey's other idea, that of setting the play in Forties Italy. It's a notion rich with possibilities; articulate, defiant Kate makes fine sense in a repressive Catholic shame culture. Yet the thought process isn't followed through and thus we encounter Lisa Dillon's half-undressed and wildly writhing Kate, complete with cigarette, hipflask and tattoo. It's arrivederci subtlety.
There's crackling sexual tension between Dillon and David Caves's edgy and energetic bounty-hunting Petruchio, even after Kate has urinated on her own feet in front of him. Caves has a much easier progression through the piece than Dillon, who sadly gets stuck in a monotonous pattern of shrieking. It's an excessively physical production; at one point decorous Bianca (Elizabeth Cadwallader) is glimpsed going at it pre-nuptials with her beloved in enthusiastic Carry On-style. This approach, which has the cast constantly bounding about, has its merits, but also ducks the need for any serious examination of how on earth Kate and Petruchio's marriage might function after that epic wedding night.
The final scene, in which the crushed Kate, now broken in like a recalcitrant horse, places her hand under her husband's foot, is notoriously tricky. It seems curiously detached from what has preceded it here, although it does at least afford Dillon the chance to ease into a different register. The debating of the Shrew will continue.
Until February 18; also at Richmond Theatre March 20-24 (0844 800 1110, rsc.org.uk)
The Taming Of The Shrew
Royal Shakespeare Company
Royal Shakespeare Theatre
Waterside
Stratford-upon-Avon
CV37 6BB
