03 April 2019

'Kiss Me, Kate'

by Kirk Woodward

[Longtime contributor to Rick On Theater Kirk Woodward feels much the same way about the classic musicals as I do.  I’ve copped to my inability to be critical of them many times on this blog, but in “A Broadway Baby” (posted on 22 September 2010), I spelled it out: “I can’t be very critical about those classic musicals—I love them too much from my childhood.  They’re like theatrical comfort food to me—I hardly see any faults.”  Kiss Me, Kate, the 1948 Cole Porter musical based on William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew, was one of the classics with which I grew up, courtesy of my father’s original-cast recordings.  We used to listen to them all the time, particularly during dinner. 

[I’ve seen many productions of Shrew, but the only one whose report I published on ROT (on 21 November 2009) is one I saw at Staunton, Virginia’s “Shenandoah Shakespeare” in 2003.  (I saw another interesting take on the play in 2007 at the Shakespeare Theatre Company in Washington, D.C., and I have a report in my archives, but haven’t used it on the blog yet.  Maybe I will one day soon.)  I’ve only seen one stage production of Kiss Me, Kate, however.  Coincidentally, it was the National Tour of the 1999 Broadway revival Kirk mentions having missed to his regret.  I saw it in July 2001 at Washington’s John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, directed by Michael Blakemore with Rex Smith (replacing Brian Stokes Mitchell) as Fred Graham/Petruchio and Rebecca York (in for the late Marin Mazzie) as Lilli Vanessi/Katharine.  The interesting thing with respect to Kirk’s report below is that, except for playwright John Guare’s “only two noticeable alterations,” producer Roger Berlind kept to Sam and Bella Spewack’s original Tony-winning book.  (“Why fix what ain’t broke?” asked director Blakemore.  “Why can’t you behave?”)

[The Roundabout Theatre Company, as you’ll read, took a different tack.  I’ll let Kirk tell you about the current revival and you’ll see the dilemma the company and Kirk faced.  ~Rick]

I was excited when I heard that the Roundabout Theatre Company would be presenting a revival of the musical comedy Kiss Me, Kate beginning with previews on February 14, 2019, and opening March 14, 2019, for a limited run.

I grew up on the original cast album of Kiss Me, Kate on 78 RPM records, featuring Alfred Drake (1914-1992), Patricia Morrison (1915-2018), Harold Lang (1920-1985), and Lisa Kirk (1925-1990). I love the music of the show’s composer Cole Porter (1891-1964), both generally, and in particular in Kiss Me, Kate.

However, the only time I’ve seen the show was a production in London in the 1970’s that lacked the verve typical of a Broadway show that the original production (which opened on December 30, 1948, and ran for 1,077 performances) must have had. I also saw the unsatisfying 1953 movie, which begins with a “frame story” including a character named “Cole Porter,” who looks nothing like Cole Porter but does resemble the composer Irving Berlin (1888-1989).

For reasons I can’t understand, I missed the 1999 Broadway revival of the musical starring the magnificent Brian Stokes Mitchell (b. 1957), for which I have been kicking myself ever since. So as I said I looked forward to the Roundabout’s production with anticipation. I saw it at a preview performance on February 27, 2019.

Kiss Me, Kate is one of Broadway’s great success stories. Cole Porter’s career was at a low point in the late 1940s; he had written several undistinguished scores and a couple of outright flops, and according to a number of sources was generally considered “finished” in the business.

Most of the cast and production team for Kiss Me Kate were either new to their jobs or relatively unknown. According to George Eells’ biography of Cole Porter The Life That Late He Led (1967), it was extremely difficult to raise enough money to finance the show, which ended up with seventy-two backers, an extremely large number for that time.

Unexpectedly, the show required almost no rewriting during rehearsal, and no revisions in its out-of-town tryout in Philadelphia – an unheard of phenomenon up to that time and seldom heard of since. By the time the show reached Broadway, word was out that it was virtually perfect.

Porter was hailed for his greatest score, and the production won five Antoinette Perry Awards, popularly known as the Tonys, including Best Musical and Best Composer and Lyricist (Porter).

In Kiss Me, Kate a theater company is trying out a musical version of the play The Taming of a Shrew by William Shakespeare (1564-1616), and the strife between the leading director, producer, and actor in the play and his leading lady, also his divorced wife, mirror the strife between Shakespeare’s characters Petruchio and Katherine (Kate), the “shrew” of the Shakespearean title.

You have undoubtedly noticed the word “shrew” twice in the previous paragraph and perhaps you thought that it was inappropriate, or wondered how acceptable a word it is today, or some similar idea. If so, you are thinking along with the folks at the Roundabout, who, according to an article in the program by Olivia Clement, realized that

while the plot is alive with onstage romance, backstage passion, and a hilarious dash of Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew, moments in the show are still – and maybe a little uncomfortably – rooted in the era in which the show was written.

In this age of the # MeToo movement, “moments” may be an understatement. Both the “frame” story of the acting company, and Shakespeare’s play itself, present dominating males with strategies for “taming” the women they love that range from dubious to downright objectionable.

Did Shakespeare intend his protagonist, Petruchio, to be admired or loathed? Considering how many aspects Shakespeare can embody in one character, I am tempted to answer “both.”

And Shakespeare does frame his story, just as the musical frames its story: for a joke, a group of well-to-do people pick up an unconscious drunk on the street and, when he wakes up, attempts to convince him that he’s actually a Lord and has forgotten his prosperous past. The main story of The Taming of the Shrew is presented to this unfortunate for his entertainment.

I would say that Shakespeare’s frame story doesn’t help us a great deal in justifying the Punch-and-Judy violence and male presumption of his play-within-a-play. Of course we only have the words in the script, and no indication how those words were played – simply as knockabout farce, or with whatever degree of compassion?

The musical Kiss Me, Kate has the same kind of problem with its frame story. The protagonist, Fred Graham (played by Will Chase), is actually perhaps one of the less objectionable males in the story. Yes, he is a loud, domineering director and producer, and yes, he misleads his ex-wife romantically.

But his counterpart in the subplot, Bill Calhoun (played by Corbin Bleu) is a compulsive gambler who sleeps with everybody. Men in general are seen as motivated by sex (as flat-out stated in the number “Too Darn Hot”).

However, to tell the truth, Calhoun’s female counter part Lois Lane (played by Stephanie Styles) is equally problematic, apparently attaching herself to multiple men at one time, as long as they have money. And Petruchio does beat, mistreat, and “tame” Kate. A fine crew!

Amanda Green (b 1963), a composer and lyricist best known perhaps for the musical Hands on a Hardbody (which ran on Broadway in 2013), was brought in to tidy up the more controversial phrasings in the score. (The playwright John Guare made revisions in the script for the 1999 version. It should also be noted again that I saw the show in a preview performance, and that further changes may have been made since I saw it.)

Green alters one of the more blatantly sexual rhymes in the song “Brush Up Your Shakespeare,” and weaves around the line in “Bianca” that goes “You’d better answer ‘yes’ or papa spank-a!” However, she makes relatively few changes compared to those in the movie version (1953).

The most spectacular change in the lyrics comes at the end of the show. Both Shakespeare and Porter have Kate sing

            I am ashamed that women are so simple . . .

which in the current production becomes

            I am ashamed that people are so simple . . .

At this point I find myself wondering if I’m taking the whole thing too seriously – or if the Roundabout is. In any case, the temper of the times is generally unforgiving, and one does wonder why the Roundabout decided to present the show at this particular moment in history. Perhaps the decision was locked in before, say, Harvey Weinstein was forced to resign?

If I were directing Kiss Me, Kate today, I would be tempted to add one more frame story to the show, beginning with a scene (or voiceover) in which Fred Graham and Lilli Vanessi, his “Kate,” reminisce about  their earlier days in theater, when times were so different – thereby, perhaps, at least serving notice that the behavior shown in the play is not being endorsed.

And I would make the look of the show considerably more down-at-heel, and make it clear that the Shrew production at the core of the show isn’t really very good.

I believe that Porter suggests this in his lyrics – compare, for example, the performers’ genuine angst in the opening song of the frame story, “Another Opening, Another Show,” with the superficial repetition in the play-within-the-play’s “We Open In Venice,” or the wit of “Always True to You In My Fashion” with the blatant repetition of the word “dick” (which is actually over-emphasized in the current show) in the song “Tom, Dick, and Harry.”

Nevertheless, I suspect the Roundabout is typical in making the play-within-the-play look as good as the play around it. (The sets are designed by David Rockwell, and the costumes by Jeff Jahshie.)

Perhaps the changes I suggest would “distance” the more controversial elements of the show and make them more palatable. Perhaps not. Perhaps they wouldn’t be necessary! Reviews for the Roundabout production were largely positive; the website Show-Score.com reports only 3% negative reviews, for an average review score of 80.

I was particularly interested to see what Jesse Green of the New York Times thought of the show. He can be counted on to highlight the social issues of a show, and he does refer to “the elements of the original Kiss Me, Kate that rankle our sensibilities today – its gender stereotypes and wife-slapping argument for womanly submission.”

But he feels that “the authors’ take on marriage is more complex and insightful than we may recall,” and he feels that “a few changes in emphasis and one major revision [which I referred to above] allow us to enjoy it in a new light, as a two-way ‘taming,’ distorted not by malice but through the mocking filter of farce,” and he refers to the revisions as a whole as “completely successful.”

Green does suggest that the inventiveness of the production begins to flag in the later part of the second act, and I agree, though for different reasons. He feels the choreography loses its inventiveness; it seems to me in particular that the song “From This Moment On” (first added in the movie version) stops the story (although the brilliant arranger, Larry Hochman, embeds a wonderful musical joke in it), and for some reason, at least when I saw the show, the song “Brush Up Your Shakespeare,” which ordinarily stops the show in two senses, fell flat.

The Roundabout’s production of Kiss Me, Kate reminds me that the classic musicals of the ’30s, ’40s, and ’50s, despite their appeal, are not “easy” to stage. They are greatly a product of their times, and the times have moved on. I believe the effort to stage one successfully today is often likely to be just that – an effort – but when (for example) it has at its heart a strong theatrical idea and a glorious Cole Porter score, we shouldn’t stop trying.

[I once interviewed for a directing gig for Shrew.  I had a devil of a time inventing a concept that would accommodate the noxious sexism of the play.  This was back in the ’70s or ’80s, long before the current #MeToo and #TimesUp movements, and I failed to come up with anything I could justify (or live with).  Needless to say, I didn’t get the job.  (I think I tried to make Petruchio a Mafioso—but that only added another layer of negative stereotyping on top of the sexism and chauvinism!  Not only didn’t I get hired, but I couldn’t commit to the Mafia concept enough to convince myself it was a good idea.)]

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