The Taming of the Shrew (1980) watch online HD

This production does for The Shrew what Zeffirelli's "Romeo and Juliet" did for that play: it makes clear the central meaning of the piece. By stripping away the usual thigh-thwacking, twinkle-in-the-eye, campy, vaudevillian action usually associated with this work, wherein the headstrong Katherine is brought into submission by the charming rogue Petruchio, we are able to see clearly what Petruchio's approach is: he shows Katherine her own behavior in reflection. Petruchio is holding up the mirror for her, showing her that she is the prisoner of her own negative emotions. And who would take the time, make the effort to do such work, if they did not care for the person in question? This Katherine and Petruchio are not combatants, they are soul-mates defining their understanding of each other. At their first meeting it is clear that Kate has never had a man of such wit and character endure her raging, out of desire for her; and in the end we see that Katherine is not broken (the famous last speech), but that at last she has stopped thinking only of herself, and gained insight and compassion for others. I've seen a lot of versions of this play (including Burton & Taylor, Julia & Streep, & Singer & Olster), and this is the most adult, the most understanding, the most human. And the funniest.

I saw this when first broadcast on PBS. I have no idea where you would find it now. It was a bit minimalist in its setting and staging, but that was part of the wonderful effect. I believe (and hope I am getting this right) that Jonathon Miller said the goal was to very much represent what an Elizabethan playgoer would have seen if they had been to an opening performance of Bill Shakespeare's plays. I seem to recall John Cleese saying that it came to him some time into rehearsals that this was the official BBC version for the next several decades and that he was shocked that he had stupidly missed that point until later and also shocked that he had that much responsibility. He ended up hiring a tutor to run lines with him so he could get every word with 100% accuracy.

I wish I could find it to see again.

If you want a slapstick, obvious "Shrew," don't waste time, go directly to Zeffirelli's overstuffed, overdecorated jamboree of shtick. OTOH, this production is actually about people, who they are and why they act that way. The cast here may be less star-studded than the other version, but is uniformly funny and very much worth watching.

Director Jonathan Miller brings his background as a neurologist into play here to make sure that the characters are not mere eccentric puppets, but are psychologically well-grounded. Sarah Badel gets the palm as Katherina. She doesn't just play the anger and violence of sibling rivalry, she also shows the pain and bewilderment of living in a world where everybody loves her sister more. John Cleese starts off uncertainly, underplaying the verse and slow to abandon Basil Fawlty's tics as he establishes the character of Petruchio, but later he grows in the part and is quite warm and human by the end. In fact, the whole play closes with much greater love and humanity than usual.

The rest of the cast is never bad, and occasionally quite brilliant. Anthony Pedley's Tranio is beautifully done, as is John Franklyn Robbins' Baptista, and Frank Thornton's Gremio leaves "Are You Being Served?" completely behind. Jonathan Cecil knows that he has a funny face and tries a little hard, but his Hortensio never breaks context with the rest of the play. Sharp-eyed viewers will recognize Angus Lennie (Mole in "The Great Escape"), Joan Hickson (Miss Marple) and John Bird ("Barnaby Spoot and the Exploding Whoopee Cushion").

The beautiful but spare decor is BBC Old Masters. There are some bewildering moments when a Vermeer room is invaded by riotous brawling, but that's probably a good thing. Occasionally a gag misfires, for as Groucho says, "All the jokes can't be good." But the overall impression is very positive. Altogether recommendable.

Essentially, up until the last hundred or so years, women were property of their husbands and had little or no hope of having control over their own lives. But it does not follow that a woman in such circumstances would be docile by nature. Any woman can make a man happy or miserable depending on how she is managed. This play is a success story about how one man uses psychology to pave his way into a fortune and a prize wife. John Cleese is such an ingenious casting choice for the character of Petruchio in this still-relevant tale of the nature of men and women. Not only for his comedic dryness, but also for his advantage of size in portraying a blustery domineering character. If you admire him in his Python work and are afraid of Shakespeare, simply watch the first 10 minutes of this piece and if you are not captivated, scan forward to Cleese's powerful rendering of Petruchio's soliloquy. He ruins any other actor's chance at improving on his performance. On the other hand, ff you find Shakespeare to contain perennial truths and keen illustrations on the Nature of Mankind, then you will particularly enjoy the perfection of this version. The other actors don't ignorantly recite their lines, but truly convey their meaning through inflection and phrasing. Since Shakespeare often used artful and obscure language even by the standards of his time (this truth is mocked by the "knock me" sequence between Petruchio and Grumio), and gave no notes or stage direction to specifically instruct sarcasm or anger or cluelessness, it is a credit to the company when a Shakespeare play is skillfully revealed to a modern audience, as this one is. Further, the way this play is photographed is so masterfully fluid and economically managed it would not be difficult to fail to notice that the whole of the first 22 minutes is performed on the same 30x50 space.

As far as I'm concerned, this rendering of Taming of the Shrew is the gold standard by which all performances will be measured.

This is not one of Shakespeare's more popular comedies, because of the inherent misogynism of a story about a cocksure rich man slowly subjugating a childish woman. The first stage show I saw of this play actually reversed this dynamic, with the woman overpowering the man, and the recent Old Vic production saw an all-male ensemble take on the play with successful results.

This one is actually very good, despite of the usual BBC budget limitations imposed on it. The acting all round is excellent with the story very well conveyed. The standout has to be John Cleese, who subverts his usual bumptious comic persona to deliver a surprisingly compassionate portrayal of Petruchio. He is well-matched by Sarah Badel's Katherine, whose unbearable stroppiness mellows under his influence.

An effective take on a much-maligned stage play.

Miller's production of Taming of the Shrew had a shortcoming it shared with many of the other BBC Shakespeare series productions; It was produced as a theatrical piece and not as video/film. This was more than offset, however, by the brilliant performance of John Cleese as Petruchio. Cleese played Kate's suitor with an understated, british style that at once illuminated the bard's words and drew a direct line between Shakespeare and Monty Python. Listen to him trail off on his 'Think you a little din can daunt my ears' speech and you will understand that humor has not really changed in 400 years.

John Cleese in The Taming of the Shrew?!!!

That was my reaction, too. But I couldn't resist tuning in, and boy was I glad I did. I enjoyed Richard Burton's version and considered it the definitive take on Petruchio -- until I saw Cleese's. Simply magnificent. That acid wit of his was the perfect tool for taming Kate. Highly recommended.

Unlike Taylor, Burton, and Zefferelli, who run roughshod over Shakespere's script and chew the scenery like buffoons; Jonathon Miller's intelligent direction and John Cleese's droll performance illuminate the true depth of the play. Cleese is ever mindful of the brilliance of Katherine's intellect and seduces rather than browbeats her to be his love. While at the same time being seduced by her mind and deeply loving heart. Not a farce as it is most often produced, but a true battle of wits, where both combatants win.

I recently studied this play in Brit Lit, and I definitely think that even though this version might be a little slower than the Zefferelli version, it is better. The Zefferelli version reverts back to the physical, cheap humor that Shakespeare obviously steers clear of, because in his day there were a number of those kinds of plays out there, but they were cheap, superficial plays. Also, Zefferelli leaves out the falcon soliloquey. I think that John Cleese is just a genius with comedy, and I am also a big fan of Frank Thorton. Besides that, I think that the makers of this film understood the real themes of Taming, and tried to portray them in the movie, as opposed to Zefferelli, who added extraneous things to make it more "amusing", but thus led it further away from Shakespeare's true meaning.

This is one of the best things John Cleese has done. I have not seen all his work, but a lot of it, including Python, Fawlty Towers, A Fish called Wanda....but this supersedes them all. Exactly the right portrayal of what Petruchio should be. All of the acting is magnificent; the director gets much kudos! The lines are cleverly delivered, with much comedy and the actors are at ease speaking 'shakespearease.' The set is simple, not to distract from the acting. The gal who plays Katherine is amazing, too. She and Cleese make a perfect combination. And it's really so romantic! I could watch this quarterly and not get tired of it.

This production is what sparked my interest in Shakespeare. I was able to see the characters as real people, not just actors in period dress slapping their thighs at the funny bits and spouting verses. John Cleese showed a great deal of depth and compassion in his portrayal. The entire production was thoughtful and entertaining. It was understated for a comedy, but that allowed the leads in the play to focus more on the subtleties of Elizabethan culture. The end was not the triumph of a man's will over a woman. It was a triumph of self-control over a wicked temper. It was about putting aside anger and frustration and finding the humor in the situation. Cleese's Petruchio was no boisterous braggart as the character is often portrayed. He was real. He showed genuine sympathy for Kate and her predicament. I saw this on PBS and there was an interview with Mr. Cleese and the director shown afterward where they discussed the culture and characters. I found it interesting and informative. A great experience all round.

The Production

The BBC produced all of Shakespeare's plays in the years around 1980 in the vein of the old 'filmed theatre' school. That is to say that the cinematography is not lush, the costumes are not impressive, the sets do not evoke a sense of realism, but the acting and the direction of the actors are at centre stage.

Directed by Jonathan Miller, their Taming of the Shrew is populated by well-meaning actors who ranged from quite good – such as Anthony Pedley as the servant of young Luciano – to the merely average – such as Susan Penhaligon's Bianca.

But overshadowing them all is a surprising performer in this context, the performance of whom is the key to Jonathan Miller's solution to the problem of how to film a play, that basically condones domestic violence and makes light of it: John Cleese as Petruchio.

The Cleese

Cleese brings a quality to the boisterous role of the gentleman from Verona that it is frankly astonishing for whoever discovered it in the text to have found, and which demonstrates the range of Shakespeare's play. Where Petruchio is traditionally seen as a staunch defender of the status quo as regards to gender roles, Cleese shows him to be a quiet rebel and a person with a knack for noticing absurdity and hostility in the world and trying to make the best of it.

While most productions have Petruchio dominating Kate at the end, it is obvious from the performances that such is not the case here. Rather the two have developed an understanding and an actual respect for each other.

Indeed while many times the most poignant scenes for Petruchio are made out to be his battles of wit and violence with Kate, it is obvious that Cleese and the production considers the pivotal scene to be his short, poetic soliloquy at the end of act 4, scene 1.

Delivered by candlelight after an exhausting day, Cleese wearily speaks the words that lesser Petruchios would be bolstering all over the place. Quietly and calmly, he outlines his plan with a tonality in his voice like that of a man who meticulously chooses exactly the most absurd response to any stimuli simply to prove a point. It is not that he must decide everything for Kate, however, but simply and reasonably that they cannot function as a married couple if they fight about everything. Thus he meets her irrational demands not with demands of his own, but instead with well-designed, absurd responses.

Rather than admonish her for being wilful or engaging in a misogynist battle of the sexes, Cleese's Petruchio is on a mission to show Kate that her wilfulness simply will not do, because it is not possible for people to live like that. He demands not compliance from Kate because he wants it, but because he wants to show what she is demanding from the world.

The Shrew

Quite apart from the dismal message that productions of The Taming of the Shrew usually have to contend with, the message of this production is instead that we are not set in our ways and that we can change our nature if we work at it.

All of this hinges of course not just on the performance of Cleese, but also on the wonderfully faceted performance of Sarah Badel in the role of Kate. She starts out in the proud tradition from Elizabeth Taylor's version in Zefirellis production from the 60s, portraying Kate as essentially a spoilt child who rebels without any sense of direction. It is clear that she finds the demands of society idiotic and inconvenient, but she does not try to change them, she just acts out her rage very much like a child would.

As she struggles to comprehend Petruchio's outlandish behaviour, we see that Badel – unlike Taylor – actually uses this character choice moving forward. This is not so much a taming as a maturing of the shrew, as Kate grows up. Petruchio is holding up a mirror in front of her and like a child she at first does not recognise that it is herself she's seeing.

It seems to her that Petruchio is just one more instance of a world being unreasonable, harsh and repressive, but gradually Badel shows us Kate coming to grips with the fact that the person in the mirror is her. Like a child finally recognising herself in the mirror and not attempting to play with this new friend anymore, Kate grows up and becomes a reasonable person. She learns, and we learn with her, that the proper response to an unfair world is not blind rage, disgust and self pity, but instead reason and thought.

Reportedly Jonathan Miller had problems with persuading Cleese to act in this, the first Shakespeare production the comedian did. It is fortunate that he was successful, though. Although we cannot in good conscience acquit Shakespeare himself or his contemporaries of misogyny, we can however – with this production in hand – show that the text must not necessarily be interpreted thus.

And this is really the most we can hope for in a performance: to show us things about the text that we had not considered.

(This is a shortened version of the review posted at shakespearereviews.wordpress.com)

A funny, fast-paced and thoroughly enjoyable production. All the actors are clear and well-spoken. They all add funny little unspoken touches to their lines, Cleese especially, so that there's a lot of physical comedy going on while the fast dialogue is crackling. A lot of talent went into this show, and it pays off.

The simple truth about Shakespeare's plays - especially the comedies - is that they can be delightful beyond one's wildest imagination. I consider Much Ado About Nothing to be by far one of the most pleasant comedies of Shakespeare, but upon watching The Taming of the Shrew, I come to realize that it, when well produced, can be just as wondrous. The wisdom and humor contained in a play by the Bard are nigh-infinite, if only we have the eyes to see it.

Having said that, this classic BBC production may indeed be classic, but apart from John Cleese it is fairly pedestrian. The delight, for me, comes from the words rather than the stage production, and then, of course, from John Cleese. I had my doubts about him when I heard he was in a "serious" Shakespeare play, but the second I saw him my doubts evaporated. He carries this show, being easily the best thing about it, and it should be obvious to all that Shakespeare and John Cleese is a match made in heaven - a mad mating, to use a pun from the play! One is grief-stricken that Cleese did not go into Shakespeare acting as a full career; woe is we who have spent our lives lacking a comedic giant such as Cleese in the Shakespearean art form!

In short: Cleese is superb, utterly and completely. The rest of the production is adequate, but Cleese absolutely steals the show.

My rating: about 6-ish for the rest of the production, with two points added for Cleese's brilliant performance, coming to an 8 out of 10.

This "The Taming of the Shrew" directed by Jonathan Miller and starring John Cleese is probably as good as we'll ever get.

William Ball's 1976 commedia dell'arte version with Marc Singer (shown on "Great Performances" and available on DVD) is fun, but perhaps too freewheeling. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Franco Zeffirelli's 1967 Taylor/Burton film is no fun at all.

Miller and his excellent cast seem to hit the right note. A few of the actors do fall into that Shakespearean trap of reciting their lines as if they're in a race to finish, rather than speaking them normally. Most of the actors do a good job.

The major flaw in this "Shrew" is that it abandons the Christopher Sly framing device, without which the play becomes impossible to understand. I suppose the Sly device tends to make the play-within-a-play a silly entertainment that cannot be taken seriously, while Miller's intentions seem to be to present the characters as real and believable as possible. Cleese's Petruchio comes off as thoughtful and heartfelt, while the Sly device perhaps forces a rambunctious, over-the-top performance, a la Marc Singer. It strikes me as curious that this "Shrew" can be presented as near-letter-perfect Shakespeare without Sly.

Nevertheless, it's as good as possible, I suppose.

BBC's Television Shakespeare productions running between 1978 and 1985 is mostly most worthwhile and really fascinating, for the opportunity to see every one of Shakespeare's (one of the greatest, important and influential playwrights who ever lived) plays performed as one big project the BBC Television Shakespeare series is a must. Some productions are better than others, limitations in staging and budget showing in some, but seeing Shakespeare mostly being faithfully adapted with talented casts are other reasons as to why the series is a must.

'The Taming of the Shrew', may not be one of my favourite Shakespeare plays and it is one of his most controversial plays with criticisms of it being misogynistic. It does nonetheless entertain and charm, with Petruchio and Kate being memorably drawn (don't always find Bianca and Lucentio as interesting as characters) and Shakespeare's mastery of language still remains. This is a great production of it, and one of the 'The Taming of the Shrews' seen, more to see, it's one of the better ones. The others being the very well done Richard Burton/Elizabeth Taylor film, the uneven Douglas Fairbanks/Mary Pickford (let down primarily by an out of her depth Pickford) and a surprisingly great condensed animated version as part of the animated Shakespeare Tales series (also a must check out, although its 'The Taming of the Shrew' is one of the weaker episodes of a rare series with not a bad episode in it).

In terms of production values, this 'The Taming of the Shrew' does lack the lavishness of the Burton/Taylor film, although not one of the most under-budgeted productions of the BBC Television Shakespeare series (one example being 'The Tempest') the sets are a bit sparse and the camera work could have been more expansive and not as static. It's forgivable for darker plays like 'Hamlet', but with 'The Taming of the Shrew' there is a strong preference for the lavish approach.

However, very little if anything was sparse or static in the production values. Jonathan Miller directs with taste and with an understanding of the text throughout, and not only brings out the play's wit, so the comedy still sparkles and is frequently amusing and more, he also stops the characterisation from being too eccentric and gives the drama more depth which gave it a surprising emotional core, rather than focusing too much on the comedy and combat. All without making it too safe or tame. The momentum didn't sag to me, while the storytelling always felt cohesive and it didn't ever feel too busy or static while also boasting no gratuitous touches.

Although Petruchio and Kate are still more interesting characters by default (both are compellingly real and more complex here than they tend to be when performed), and one of this production's biggest strengths is how the relationship between them is drawn (feeling more human than one usually sees), Lucentio and particularly Bianca are not as underdeveloped as they can be. The performances are never less than solid, with the supporting standouts being Antony Pedley, Frank Thornton, John Franklyn Robbins and Jonathan Cecil.

When seeing that John Cleese was playing Petruchio, eyebrows admittedly were raised, although a fine comedic actor Petruchio is a more serious, more dramatic and more complex role to take on and there was the worry that Cleese would be out of his depth. These worries quickly subsided, as Cleese is really quite superb, he does capture Petruchio's acidic wit (though not as "brutish" as Burton but that's not a bad thing at all, quite the contrary) but brings much more to him than that with the compassion and humanity really quite moving to watch. Sarah Badel also nails it, she is completely convincing in Kate's shrewishness, an essential character trait and she never overacts or underplays it that it becomes too hammy or too subdued, and anger, but at the same time provides a more human and vulnerable side to Kate that was interesting and just as affecting as with Cleese. As said above, the relationship between the two characters and therefore also the chemistry between Cleese and Badel was a big strength in this 'The Taming of the Shrew'.

Summarising, a great production and one of the better 'The Taming of the Shrews' there is to me. 9/10

Watching Shakespeare is tricky business. Its because the material is so deep and dangerous, that it can cut and ruin lives of innocents just as it can build and weave. Part of the danger comes from not being aware of the edges, of thinking that what you see is a comedy as toothless as something from TeeVee. But part is also a matter of decisions the director makes.

There are a few major traditions the director can follow. A focus on the sweep of cosmology, on the (usual) intricacies of plot. On the fabulous language, its structure and ever-more layered metaphors. Its emotional shivers, yes even the comedies. Sometimes the way chosen is to map it to some other era and its trappings to increase "relevance," as if "West Side Story" had the stuff from which one builds imagination.

But the most dangerous choice of all, I believe, is when the director chooses to make the play about humans, to make it emotionally real. I mean "emotionally" here in the modern theatrical sense where screams and actorly attunement really can connect. Its probably a bad choice because when you try to make these characters modern, natural, as if you could encounter them in life, you fool yourself into thinking you understand the thing. You see familiar people, reacting in familiar ways, lifelike.

But that's not how these plays are put together. There's always the majority of it just out of reach. There's always more, even if you read it slowly. That's what makes this magical. It isn't Ibsen. When the director takes those heavens away, the knife becomes dull and there is no instrument on earth as dangerous as a dull knife.

Just look at the comments here on IMDb, celebrating the accessibility of this production. Yes, it is probably more comprehendible than Zeferelli's zany snappings. But that had the language, and it preserved the cadence as poetry, and thus indicated how layered were the metaphors, how nested were the rhythms, how integrated the language was with human intercourse, how dissymmetry is behind the tension the keeps love afloat.

Nothing of that is here. This is a marvelous play. The staging is particularly wonderful and the characters engaging, A good play — a good production, but dangerously far from Shakespeare.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

This version is not my favorite because I'm an English teacher who believes that this extremely low-key version is much too subtle to entertain students. Or me.

(But then again, the Zeffirelli version is so overblown and hyperactive, I don't think it's that great either. I think I'm going to have to stick with the American Conservatory Theater's commedia dell'arte performance as my favorite filmed version. I wish so much I could find a straight version of this play on film.)

My first quarrel is that Simon Chandler (Lucentio) delivers his lines so quickly in the play's opening scene that he's impossible to understand. And then there's John Cleese as Petruchio burying his face in his hands as he washes and mumbling as he splashes. It's very frustrating not to be able to understand what actors are saying and those are two of the times I noted that happening in this film.

I also didn't feel that the sets contributed to the film. They were spare -- although the set for the Minola's house was very beautiful -- but they were so...beige. And the costumes were so...beige. It was almost like seeing the play in sepia tones.

As far as showing the play in a classroom goes, I don't like the scene where Lucentio tries to cop a feel of Bianca's breast as he "translates Latin" for her. It seemed gratuitous, considering the plodding pace of the rest of the film. I know it's very brief, but I still found it irritating. It came out of nowhere - whoa! A hand! Trying to touch a boob! And then we're back to the snoozing.

All in all, this extremely Burrrrriddish version of Shrew shows how comedy has changed over the past 400 years -- in Shakespeare's day, I imagine there was a lot more joy, a bawdy romp. This version is so terribly, terribly dull, in my opinion. I don't think the performances are brilliant. I don't sense the magic.

Jonathan Miller manages to take all the fun out of this play - even the casting of John Cleese as Petruchio was a disaster. When this play was first broadcast on PBS, it was followed by an interview between Miller and Cleese, where they smugly compared their dismal version with that of Franco Zeffirelli, who they thought was much to blame for filling his film with high spirits and humorous images. Don't show the Miller/Cleese version to your children, unless you want to kill dead any interest in Shakespeare they might be developing.

Baptista will not allow his saccharine younger daughter Bianca to marry until someone can rid him of his obstreperous older daughter Katherine. The swaggering Petruchio (John Cleese), eager to wive it wealthily in Padua, agrees to do just this. He proceeds to break her. First, he cools her scalding wit by putting his tongue in her tale; nearly jilts her on her wedding night and then shows up at the church in antic garb; forbids her food, sleep and the beautiful clothes he himself had tailored for her, all on the pretense of providing for her; and lastly, commands that she call the sun the moon, the moon the sun, an elderly gentlemen a fresh virgin and then refute her own assertions, all according to his whim.

That's the main plot, and simple enough. The other plot is a headache. Bianca has three suitors: the gray-bearded Gremio, the youngish Hortensio and the young and handsome Lucentio. Don't ask why, but Lucentio disguises himself as a tutor named Cambio. Hortensio disguises himself as a tutor named Litio. Tranio, Lucentio's servant, disguises himself as Lucentio, at Lucentio's request. A traveling pedant disguises himself as Vincentio, Lucentio's father, also at Luciento's request. Later, the real Vincentio shows up. This proves to be more enjoyable in performance than on the page, but it's still confusing.

This production is a typical one of the BBC series, "The Complete Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare." Great actors. Poor production values. Bad staging for the cameras. (Note how often we feel we should be seeing one actor's reaction to something when he's off camera or turned away. Note how an entrance of Kate, muddy and disheveled, is botched: the camera takes little note of it until it's too late to make an impression.) Did I mention great actors? They make all the difference in most of these productions. Derek Jacobi is a splendid Richard II. Bob Hoskins is my favorite Iago. George Costigan is a fascinating Bastard Faulconbridge.

So what about John Cleese as Petruchio? Cleese, one of the great comic actors, fails at this role. He seems to nibble around the edge of the part, rather than directly attack it. His Petruchio has no real confidence underlying his swagger. He's neurotic; and his antic disposition seems less put-upon than real. In an early scene where he matches wits with Kate, he plays it like a schoolboy, acting cocky and making weird noises to cover up how nervous he is.

The rest of the cast is fine. Sarah Badel plays Kate in an exaggerated manner without making her seem like a cartoon. She handles the last scene especially well, making it clear she's been tamed, not broken. I liked how John Franklyn-Robbins has his Baptista explode into exultant laughter at odd times. Jonathan Cecil is an amusingly prissy Hortensio. The reliable Anthony Pedley plays Tranio. Simon Chandler is acceptable as Lucentio, despite his unintelligible recitation in the opening scene. I also liked that blubbering elderly servant, whoever he is.

I'd rather watch this again than the well-produced, well-acted but exhaustingly frantic and slapsticky version with Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. But this is still not all that good.

The first review of this production is right on. It's hard to believe that a cast member from "Beyond the Fringe" (Miller) and one of the great Python men (Cleese) could put together such a slow, unrewarding, uninteresting performance.

This is a famous comedy, maybe the most famous comedy by Shakespeare. It was made famous by Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton but it stands apart in Shakespeare's comedies. In most comedies we have four couples getting married or re-united at the end. In this one we have only three women who get married to three men of course. Three in Shakespeare's style is the incongruous and disorderly rhythm that breaks the perfect iambic harmony of two or four. In his language anything coming by three is a sign of some disruption, some tempest coming, some imbalance that menaces the normal peaceful course of events. So there is an element of disorder in this ending. And there is another in the number of ternary elements the final speech of Katharina at the end, a speech to her sister for her to understand she has to submit to her husband for the good of the couple and for her own comfort. The number of ternary elements is dense. Let me give a few examples: "thy lord, thy king, thy governor", "it blots…, confounds… and in no sense is…", "thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, / Thy head, thy sovereign." (1 + 3 + 2 = 6), "warm at home, secure and safe", "but love, fair looks and true obedience". But the acme of this imbalance is brought by a pentacle, a group of five elements, the devil in the story: "…froward, peevish, sullen, sour, and not obedient", "but a foul contending rebel, and graceless traitor" (3 + 2 =5, or Adjective + adjective + noun + adjective + noun = 3 adjectives + 2 nouns = 5). This is clear enough and it is the absolute meaning of the speech to the sister: submit for your benefit, and of course you can think as much as you want, as long as you have peace you can. This spirit of women in fact getting the best out of their husbands for their own sake and not for their husbands' sake, is the central meaning in this play. Women are no hypocrites or liars or simulators in any way. They are just taking care of their best interest and what the husbands may see as submission is the guarantee for women to have their independence and freedom. Apart from this general meaning, which is ahead of its time as for women in society in the 16th century, the play is such an accumulation of disguises and servants playing masters and masters playing servants, and sons and fathers, and fathers and daughters, without counting all the suitors, that we are literally made slightly dizzy. The language, the puns, the innuendo, the playing on words and all the wit, some of it openly gross, some insinuating some grossness, make this comedy real fireworks of fun and pleasure: water music one century early. This BBC production is fair enough and the setting is wider than a stage which enables the angle of vision to change which gives to our perception of the public or private space a dimension it probably does not have, in between a natural setting and a sound stage. The dynamism of the actors is just fun, including the final song of the banquet which is just amateurish enough to sound plain true.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne, University Paris 8 Saint Denis, University Paris 12 Créteil, CEGID