The Gilbert & Sullivan Society of WA have stepped away from their usual G&S repertoire for the first time in over ten years to put on Cole Porter’s 1940s musical Kiss Me, Kate. The show follows divorced couple Fred and Lilly, actors in a Broadway production of Taming of the Shrew, as they compete in a power struggle both on and off stage.
If you, like me, know Shakespeare’s most controversial play, you, like me, might assume that any performance of it being shown these days would somehow flip the misogynistic plot on its head for a modern audience. Much like the 90s movie with Heath Ledger, 10 Things I Hate About You did. You, like me, would be in for a nasty surprise.
But before I take issue with Cole Porter and Sam and Bella Spewack (husband-and-wife playwriting duo), all of whom have been dead for over twenty years, I should talk about the G&S production itself.
Kiss Me, Kate. Photography by Nicholas Madeley.
With a large cast of over thirty people the dance numbers were always going to be the most impressive, and the dancers seemed to be genuinely having fun in those big numbers. Each number was flashy and fun, although there is a limit to how much tap dancing one can endure.
Multiple dance numbers means multiple costume changes and we know by now that this is where the Gilbert & Sullivan Society of WA really shines. Highlights included Fred’s Shakespearean doublet and trunk hose (shorts that look like a padded skirt with panes of stiff shiny material), Lilli’s multicoloured corset and skirt as Katherine, and everything worn by the sultry Lois Lane and her dashing boyfriend Bill Calhoun, both in their Elizabethan garb as Bianca and Lucentio and in their New York style clothing as actors. The multiple costume changes for the ensemble were all unique and variously styled, and of course the pinstripe grey suits of the two gangsters were spot on.
Kiss Me, Kate. Photography by Nicholas Madeley.
Speaking of my favourite comic relief, Samuel Farr and Tracey Myhill as the first and second gangsters were a real highlight. Their slightly dim-witted banter with Fred as they put the pressure on him to pay a debt he didn’t incur, and with each other as they navigated the alien world of backstage at the theatre was enjoyable to watch. Their rendition of ‘Brush Up Your Shakespeare’ was fun and the right amount of silly, and even a few opening night fumbles were handled with comedic flair.
All the cast performed well, their singing voices being their real strength. Hayley Parker as Lilli and Taylor Westland as Lois Lane in particular gave fantastic performances, and both have phenomenal voices. Parker leant depth and humanity to poor Lilli, and Westland’s comedic timing as the ditsy yet devious Lois was delightful to watch. They each commanded attention in every scene they were in, despite their characters being in situations better suited to horror than comedy.
Kiss Me, Kate. Photography by Nicholas Madeley.
Which brings me to the plot of Kiss Me, Kate, or, as I have dubbed it, Domestic Violence: The Musical. I realise that having come to the show without having seen the 1953 movie and having no knowledge of the plot meant I was in a position to be more shocked than others, but I am hardly the first critic to take issue with this show.
The show is essentially the plot of Taming of the Shrew told twice, by the characters in the play and the actors backstage. Fred is a manipulative abuser, using his power as director and producer of the show to groom young hopeful Lois, and manipulating his ex-wife into continuing to perform in the play she wants to quit after literally beating her black and blue. That is not an exaggeration. They argue and she embarrasses him on stage so he drags her off at the interval and beats her until she is bruised.
I do understand that the 1950s was a different time, I can’t expect a product of that society to hold up to today’s standards, but forgive me if I assumed we had moved on from staging shows that depict domestic violence as comedy.
Considering 1 in 4 women in Australia have experienced physical and/or sexual violence from a partner since the age of 15 I would consider the choice to stage this play tone deaf and, frankly, irresponsible. Especially to stage it as a pure comedy. Director Natalee Husk’s choice to depict the beating as a series of slap sounds off-stage followed by girlish yelps, somehow eliciting laughter from our opening night audience, astounds and disappoints me. To describe the show’s blatant misogyny in the Director’s notes as “themes that may appear dated” shows a refusal to engage with the problematic nature of the play. I thought we in 2024 were better than this.
Kiss Me, Kate runs at the Dolphin Theatre until the 13th October and consider this your trigger warning, as it does not come with one. TW: dated themes.