Men in Frocks

If you’ve seen this poster *points left* you probably won’t have any trouble figuring out why I’ve decided to develop a sudden interest in Shakespeare. All-male theatre troupe, Propeller is performing Taming of the Shrew and Twelfth Night for a limited season the Old Vic. Despite the fact I know nothing about either of these plays, I suddenly found my arm flaying for the credit card.

Having secured a cheap seat for yesterday's matinee of Shrew, I decided I should check out the text. I admit I was gripped by the fear as a rush of air sailed past the top of my head. But after a quick scan of the GCSE study notes, I felt I was prepared for the challenge.

Taming of the Shrew, as the more educated will already know, is a comedy of mistaken identity. Firstly, drunken Christopher Sly’s friends persuade him that he is a lord. Then, assuming the name of Petruchio, he is cajoled into wooing the wayward, “shrewish” Katharine so that one of his chums can marry her younger sister, Bianca. The father of the two girls forbids the marriage of Bianca until her elder sister is betrothed.

Katharine is a fantastic part, if I ever become a classical actress I’d love to play her. She shouts, bites, throws things around and mercilessly picks on her sister. I’m sure many people with a younger sibling will understand. She was played by spiky-haired Simon Scardifield and, like the other female roles, there was no attempt made to make him look like a woman, he was very obviously a man in a frock. This amused the excitable lady next to me no end. She spent much of the time chuckling into her hand in what I assume she thought was a coquettish manner. It’s just a shame she was over 50 and stank of onion.

So anyway, Petruchio marries Katharine and sets about taming his shrew. As it’s a modern production there’s a lot of physical humour and plenty of laugh out loud moments, and for some reason they all wear naff seventies costumes. It’s not exactly a feminist work as Katharine’s spirit is finally broken and she acquiesces to her husband’s command. But as it’s a 21st century take on the story, the message is dismissed at the end.

I’m not going to claim I understood every moment, but the strength of the acting and the energy of the performers swept me along. I’ll be going back in February for Twelfth Night.