Two Shakespeare comedies opened on consecutive days this past week in Chicago: “The Taming of the Shrew” at Court Theatre and “Much Ado About Nothing” at Chicago Shakespeare Theater.
Each is challenging to stage for its own reasons, and in this pair of productions, those challenges are clear but confronted in divergent ways.
“The Taming of the Shrew” needs its blatant misogyny tamed, as maverick, sharp-tongued Katherina is gaslit and otherwise abused into a meekly submissive, fully subservient wife to alpha-male gold-digger Petruchio.
“Much Ado About Nothing” has a similarly clever, marriage-resisting female character in Beatrice, but she gets treated with great respect by all. Unlike Katherina, Beatrice isn’t asked to submit to her verbal dueling partner and eventual husband Benedick. Instead, upon admitting her love, Beatrice makes an exceptional demand on him to secure her hand: kill his best friend for shaming her cousin.
The production challenge of “Much Ado” has always been to marry the competing tones of light romantic comedy with the dark tale of emotional injustice (admittedly, with its own misogynist undertones).
Two rigorous, imaginative directors take wildly different approaches to finding theatrical solutions. Marti Lyons, who is artistic director at Remy Bumppo, steers “Shrew” while Selina Cadell, who helmed last year’s Eddie Izzard one-person “Hamlet,” directs “Much Ado.”
The culturally problematic “Shrew” requires bold choices, and if there’s one thing that must be said of Lyons’ adaptation, it certainly takes big risks. And the result might have been fascinating if it weren’t so impenetrable.
The concept is explained partially in a program insert but otherwise thrust unclearly upon audiences in a pantomime prologue. A group of contemporary “guests” participate in “The Shrew Experience,” an immersive work that requires them to perform the Shakespeare play even though they aren’t actors.
The opening scenes work quite well. The initial battle of wits between Katherina (Melisa Soledad Pereyra) and Petruchio (Jay Whittaker) emits a zesty undercurrent that brings to mind the film “Babygirl,” in which Nicole Kidman plays a CEO who discovers the sexual appeal of submission.
But after that, most scenes come across as convoluted experiments in power dynamics and role-playing driven by a logic we’re not let in on. Who are these guests paying to play these parts and why should we care? Who is choosing their costumes? And what’s with the masked guards/servants wearing the impressive shrew heads? They give off a mysterious and eerie “Squid Game” vibe. Petruchio appears emitting oversized confidence at his own wedding in a sheer black shirt and pink boa, and yet seems increasingly befuddled — for befuddling reasons — as the play goes on.
Traditional performances, such as from Alex Weisman and Dexter Zollicoffer, present us with moments of polished Elizabethan comedy, while Pereyra and others deliver lines with a purposeful blandness.
This show seems like it aspires to the territory of Daniel Fish’s radical, deconstructive take on “Oklahoma” but never finds a theatrical logic or language that makes it connect. It’s evocative and a pleasure to look at. Jackie Fox’s set design is beautiful, Kotryna Hilko’s costumes witty — but overall the show is frustrating and even dull.
At Chicago Shakes, Cadell approaches the tonal challenge of “Much Ado About Nothing” with a straightforward, detailed focus. She emphasizes an airy make-believe world: the Sicilian setting brings out contemporary resort wear, and she begins each act with music and the summoned dimming of lights in a gentle invitation into the fictional.
The perfect symmetry of Tom Piper’s lovely set emphasizes the orderly world as well as the perfectly complementary structure of Shakespeare’s central matching scenes. First, characters let Benedick (Mark Bedard) believe he overhears them explaining that Beatrice (Deborah Hay) is secretly in love with him. And then others do the same to Beatrice. Cadell doesn’t bother much with finding realism in how this overhearing works — instead, she tells us not to worry about it by inserting physical comedy and even letting Hay sit with the audience and cover herself with a program.
Cadell is impressive in how she addresses the challenges with an intense attention to the text and character. This production is a fantastic exercise in careful balance and understated honesty.
“Much Ado” and “Taming of the Shrew” don’t represent a battle between high- and low-concept productions of Shakespeare. Both approaches can work or fall short depending on the execution, and we see both outcomes here.