THERE IS NO TAMING THIS PRICKLY
AND INVIGORATING SHREW

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I won’t deny it: I squealed in excitement when I received the invitation to review Court Theatre’s new production of The Taming of the Shrew. Not because it’s one of Shakespeare’s best (it isn’t), or even my favorite Shakespeare comedy (that would be a three-way tie between Twelfth Night, Midsummer, and Much Ado), but because it is problematic; it was so even when it was first performed and in the modern age, its plot is especially cringeworthy. But how vanilla would it be if our best theatres only performed the best of the Bard? That Court Theatre chose to mount Shrew as its last production of the year reflects its confidence and fearlessness — and I was fairly squirming in my seat in anticipation as the house lights dimmed.

Samuel Taylor, Ryder Dean McDaniel, Dexter Zollicoffer, Netta Walker,
Mark L. Montgomery, Nate Santana, and Melisa Soledad PereyraNetta Walker, Melisa Soledad Pereyra, Mark L. Montgomery,
Ryder Dean McDaniel, Nate Santana, and Monica West

Shrew famously opens with a framing device — the only one of Shakespeare’s plays to do so. The entire story as we know it is presented as a play within a play, a performance put on by a group of mummers as part of an elaborate trick played on a homeless person by a wealthy nobleman. There is much scholarship on this “induction”; frequently thought of as an attempt by Shakespeare to insulate himself from anticipated criticism for some of the more controversial elements of the script. Sadly, I have never seen the induction scenes performed onstage, but I remain hopeful.

Melisa Soledad Pereyra and Netta WalkerNate Santana, Alex Weisman, Netta Walker, Samuel Taylor,
Ryder Dean McDaniel, Jay Whittaker, and Dexter Zollicoffer

Court’s Shrew does begin with an intriguing frame though: what we’re witnessing this evening is an immersive show called The Shrew Experience. It’s an exclusive entertainment available to only the wealthiest of the wealthy. Four one-percenters (and one of their assistants) have paid a great sum of money to act the principal roles in a performance of William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. Under heavy mood lighting and ominous music — shades of Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut (1999) — we watch them whisper with the Hostess, while silent attendants wearing shrew heads help them out of their duds and into brocaded coats and hats more suitable to the play (truly exquisite costumes by Kotryna Hilko). Then the lights come up on Jackie Fox’s gorgeous set and we’re off, with Lucentio and his manservant Tranio plotting to win the hand of Bianca, the beautiful and docile daughter of Baptista, a wealthy lord in Padua.

Netta Walker and Mark L. Montgomery

It’s not that simple though (is it ever?); Lucentio has competition for Bianca in the suitor department from Hortensio and Gremio, both older but no less keen on matrimony. And complicating all of this further is the fact that Baptista refuses to let Bianca marry unless someone takes his older daughter Katherina — the titular “shrew” — off his hands first. Enter Petruchio, a charming, sharp-witted, gold-digging friend of the older men, who, when informed of Bianca’s dowry and her recalcitrant nature, vows to wed her and further, mold her into his idea of the perfect wife. In this he is aided by his servant, Grumio, played by an absolutely hilarious Alex Weisman, who steals the show every time he steps into the spotlight and sometimes even when he’s on the sidelines (give the man his third Jeff Award!).

Netta Walker, Melisa Soledad Pereyra, Jay Whittaker, Alex Weisman, and Samuel TaylorAlex Weisman, Jay Whittaker, and Dexter Zollicoffer

The cast is splendid across the board: Nate Santana, fresh off his charming turn in Things With Friends at the American Blues Theater, is even more delightful here as Lucentio. As Tranio, Ryder Dean McDaniel is excellent, especially when in disguise as a snootier-than-thou version of Lucentio, and Netta Walker makes the usually boring Bianca funnier than she has any right to be with her influencer intonations.

Samuel Taylor, Jay Whittaker, Ryder Dean McDaniel,
Dexter Zollicoffer, Nate Santana, and Mark L. MontgomeryMelisa Soledad Pereyra, Mark L. Montgomery, Dexter Zollicoffer,
Ryder Dean McDaniel, and Jay Whittaker

Intonations are key to the performances of Melisa Soledad Pereyra (Katherina) and Jay Whittaker (Petruchio). I suspect only misogynists would see this Katherina as a shrew. Pereyra’s Kate is quick-witted, sharp-tongued, of a flinty intelligence, and she does not suffer fools gladly. (Pereyra and Whittaker would make for a marvelous Beatrice and Benedick in Much Ado, which happens to be playing across town at Chicago Shakes.) Whittaker eschews the typical overbearing boorishness one sees in most takes on the part; his Petruchio is more suave — more James Spader than Oliver Reed — and there is an (entirely appropriate) undercurrent of cruelty to the performance that’s very unsettling. I could easily imagine him as a popular podcaster within the manosphere — if you know what’s coming in Act II.

Melisa Soledad Pereyra, Dexter Zollicoffer, Jay Whittaker,
Ryder Dean McDaniel, and Mark L. MontgomeryMelisa Soledad Pereyra, Nate Santana, Ryder Dean McDaniel,
Monica West, Mark L. Montgomery, and Netta Walker

And knowing what’s coming makes a very big difference to this show. I can imagine Court’s Shrew hitting very differently based on one’s familiarity with the source material. Director and adaptor Marti Lyons knows exactly what she’s doing here. Not for nothing is the play bookended by two of the most misogynistic songs of the 1960s: The Crystals’ “He Hit Me (And It Felt Like a Kiss)” and Jimmy Soul’s number-one hit “If You Wanna Be Happy.” (Interestingly enough, both are co-written by women.) There’s a lot going on behind the lines in Act II when the “taming” of Kate begins. There’s an attempt to inject a sadomasochistic component into the process, but that only introduces thornier questions of consent into an already tricky act. Is Kate consenting to her humiliation? Is there even a question of consent when acquiescence is the only option available? And then there’s Petruchio, who by the end of the play has the look of a man who has gotten what he wants but isn’t quite sure if it’s what he wants anymore. Whittaker’s performance is a subtle, enigmatic marvel in the second act, and is unfortunately — as such performances are wont to be — overshadowed by the broader turns surrounding it.

Nate Santana, Dexter Zollicoffer, Mark L. Montgomery,
Melisa Soledad Pereyra, Netta Walker, and Ryder Dean McDanielJay Whittaker, Alex Weisman, Nate Santana, Ryder Dean McDaniel, Mark L. Montgomery

And what of the ending? I’m choosing my words carefully now. Just before the lights come up on the intermission, behind the already dropped scrim, there is a silent interaction between two of the characters that comes from so far out of left field that I spent the entire break in my seat trying to figure out what it meant for both the characters and the rest of the play. Was the interaction between the actors part of the framing device? Was it between characters in the play-within-the-play? Or was the frame bleeding into the play-within-the-play? However you interpret it, it is crucial to the ending.

Melisa Soledad Pereyra and Jay WhittakerNate Santana and Netta Walker

I could also write a few hundred words of speculation on the personal assistant to the filthy rich being named “Christopher Sly,” but I’ll leave that maddening exercise up to you since I cannot explain why here. All I will say is that the play ends with a spectacular rug-pull that upends the entire show and implicates — a bit unfairly — the audience in the proceedings. You never saw a comedy end with such shocked silence. It is a directorial decision of such breathtaking audacity that I wanted to stand and applaud.

And a few minutes later when the cast took their bows, I did.

Alex Weisman, Nate Santana, Mark L. Montgomery, and Ryder Dean McDanielRyder Dean McDaniel, Dexter Zollicoffer, Mark L. Montgomery, Monica West, Netta Walker,
Nate Santana, Melisa Soledad Pereyra, Samuel Taylor, Jay Whittaker, and Alex Weisman

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photos by Michael Brosilow

The Taming of the Shrew
Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave.
Wed–Fri at 7:30; Sat & Sun at 2 & 7:30
ends on December 14, 2025
2 hours 30 minutes, including intermission
for tickets ($60-$90), call 773.753.4472 or visit Court Theatre

for more shows, visit Theatre in Chicago

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