A Lively ‘Shrew’ at South Coast Repertory

Mark Rucker’s staging of “The Taming of the Shrew” at South Coast Repertory may well tame even fervid opponents of Shakespeare’s antique script.

Sure, a few hisses were heard during Kate’s closing speech at the reviewed performance, when she lectured two other women (one of them actually a man in drag) on the importance of submission to their husbands. It remains hard to fathom why Kate’s outlook changes so drastically, from rebellious shrew to compliant servant, yet this production provides more clues than most.

More important, Rucker’s candy-colored concept of setting “Shrew” within a fantasy world of East Coast ‘50s/’60s Rat Pack/Cosa Nostra culture yields so many laughs on its own that any hisses arising from the script become part of the fun, as at a 19th century melodrama.

The fun commences before Word 1, with an uproarious effect created by the not-so-simple act of raising the curtain. We’re immediately plunged into a very American world--but one in which the Italian names and the occasional Italian exclamation ring true, as well as the sporadic inflection out of “Guys and Dolls” or “Moonstruck” and the jaunty male preening.

Ralph Funicello’s backdrop and floor consist of large squares and other shapes bathed in fluorescent color, lit by Tom Ruzika, reminiscent of pop art of the Rat Pack era. The few furnishings are perfect period emblems--Bianca’s pink ruffled vanity table, an op art-inspired chaise lounge, a big white banquette for the final banquet.

When Bianca’s suitors offer their credentials to her father, they present a hilarious dueling slide show of totemic images of the same era--from happy housewives and vacuum cleaners to elaborate mansions and yachts.

The threads designed by Shigeru Yaji cover a wide range of period looks. Kate begins the play in toreador pants, dons a dress or two for more formal occasions, but ends up still wearing pants--her Petruchio is not about to enforce a ladylike dress code on his wife. In the scene in which Kate torments her sister--by tying her up and suspending her over the floor--they’re wearing the big bras and girdles that once were de rigueur.

The men sport snazzy suits, of course, but that’s hardly all. When Petruchio shows up improperly dressed for his wedding, he’s in black leather and a T-shirt. His steed is a motorcycle, with sidecar for his bride. Bianca’s suitor Hortensio looks like a classic nerd, but when he goes undercover as a music tutor, he’s classic beatnik.

Michael Roth’s music is equally evocative: jazzy, driving pre-rock sounds for the raucous comedy, interrupted by more introspective moments that help focus attention on the deepening relationship between Petruchio and Kate.

That there are such moments may surprise those who think of this couple’s history as a raging war followed by Kate’s surrender. But Rucker and his actors make sure the sexual chemistry is there from the start--in a long first gaze, in quick smiles stolen from the general fracas later. Rucker recognizes that the absence of lines explaining Kate’s thoughts means there must be an obvious unspoken attraction. If this means some of the ferocity is taken out of the couple’s sparring, it also makes the ending more comprehensible.

On their wedding night, Kate resists Petruchio’s command to depart before the festivities have hardly begun--but only to a point. After Petruchio’s servant, in true Mafia style, fires a warning blast over the heads of the revelers to enforce Petruchio’s command, Kate appears guiltily amused by this brazen defiance of the relatives and hangers-on she loathes.

Marco Barricelli’s Petruchio is a big man with a resonant voice who never seems wantonly cruel. He kneels with Kate at the end, after she has prostrated herself for him.

Cindy Katz’s Kate recognizes early on that this one man is worth more than all of the little men who dote on her sister. She keeps her mind on this even when she’s starving, and especially when she’s preaching to everyone at the end. The other women make it clear, however, that they’re not particularly convinced.

Douglas Rowe plays Baptista as a retired Mafia don, and Susannah Schulman’s Bianca, rather than some virginal innocent, is a silly teen queen who deserves what she gets. By the end, it does look as if this crew’s two clearly superior people have found each other--and who are we to question whatever accommodation they’ve reached in order to get along?

* “The Taming of the Shrew,” South Coast Repertory, 655 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa, Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7:30 p.m.; Saturdays, Sundays, 2:30 p.m. Ends March 31. $28-$38. (714) 957-4033. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

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Marco Barricelli: Petruchio

Cindy Katz: Kate

Mikael Salazar: Lucentio

Bill Mondy: Tranio

Ron Boussom: Gremio

David Fenner: Hortensio

Douglas Rowe: Baptista

Susannah Schulman: Bianca

Robert Patrick Benedict: Biondello

James Newcomb: Grumio

John Ellington: Curtis/Haberdasher/Pedant

John-David Keller: Vincentio/Tailor/Joseph

Art Koustik: Widow/Nathaniel

Michael Ambrosio: Servant/Peter

Robert Shaun Kilburn: Baptista’s Servant/Nicholas/Officer

Shakespeare’s comedy directed by Mark Rucker. Sets by Ralph Funicello. Costumes by Shigeru Yaji. Lighting by Tom Ruzika. Music and sound by Michael Roth. Fight and movement sequences by James Newcomb. Voice/dialect consultant Dudley Knight. Hair and wigs by Carol F. Doran. Production manager Michael Mora. Stage manager Scott Harrison.