Modern-day revivals of musicals from the genre’s so-called ‘Golden Age’ can be challenging – caught up, as they often are, in the sexism of their time. ‘Kiss Me, Kate’, which debuted in 1948, is a particularly acute example. With music and lyrics by Cole Porter and a book by Bella and Samuel Spewack, it’s structured as a play within a play. The narrative follows the on-and-off-stage conflict between actor, director and producer Fred Graham and his ex-wife Lilli Vanessi as they argue their way through a chaotic Baltimore pitstop of his touring production of one of Shakespeare’s more unlovely plays, ‘The Taming of the Shrew’, in which they act as Petruchio and Katherina (Kate). Petruchio’s humiliation and subjugation of Kate forms the thrust of the story.
It’s to big shot American director Bartlett Sher’s credit, then, that the show’s mirroring of scenes within scenes in his impressively large-scale, major new revival at the Barbican Centre is heavily laced with irony. As Petruchio, Fred (Adrian Dunbar, swapping ‘Line of Duty’ for the chorus line) can’t get his whip (don’t ask) to work and looks stupid; in the climactic scenes, Lilli (played by bona fide Broadway star Stephanie Block) sings ‘I Am Ashamed’ with the kind of knowing wink you could probably see from space. This is all amplified by Michael Yeargan’s gorgeously elaborate set, which not only revolves to show the ‘backstage’ scenes but also leaves plenty of empty space on either side. We’re always aware of the ‘actors’ milling around and waiting for their cues. There’s an ever-present sense of artifice – including the crudely scrawled Venetian backdrop for the Shakespearean scenes. It has the farcical air of ‘The Play That Goes Wrong’.
This is a lush, wittily spectacular production, whose lynchpin is Block as Lilli/Kate. As Fred, Dunbar has a decent voice and a lovely way with gentle comedy. Together, they have delightful chemistry. But Block commands the stage. She’s charismatic, versatile and makes every note – in every sense – sing. She turns ‘I Hate Men’ into virtuoso comedy. She brings light, depth and shade and joyfully shrugs off any period fustiness.
There’s still room for the rest of the cast to shine. Stage darling Charlie Stemp, who hopefully has his feet insured by this point, is all twinkle-toed charm as actor Bill Calhoun, whose mounting gambling debts lead to Hammed Animashaun and Nigel Lindsay’s nameless – and extremely funny – mobsters turning up at Fred’s door demanding money or else.
Georgina Onuorah is also superb as Lois Lane, turning her song to Bill, ‘Always True to You in My Fashion’, into an anthem of sex positivity. Meanwhile, Jack Butterworth as Fred’s assistant Paul seduces the entire Barbican auditorium with his sensuous rendition of ‘Too Darn Hot’. Gradually bringing in the entire ensemble, it’s also a high point of Anthony van Laast’s top-tier choreography, which entwines beautifully with the effortless catchiness and bounce of Cole’s classy score. Even when a few songs linger a little too long, you’re still singing along.
