A Shrew Tamed: Shakespeare and the Necessity of Loose Adaptations

Why is the work of Mr. William Shakespeare ever so important, and relevant to modern culture and film — contemporary in every sense of the word? It is quite damning not to see the influence of the timeless Bard (a figure who has been dust and dirt in a grave for over four-hundred years) especially when we, the moviegoers, do not properly reflect on the concept of “adaptation.” The dilemma of adaptation is whether it is necessary to adapt fully or loosely and whether the intent is to honor or update the material. Will the adaptation self-destruct if it does not contribute anything impactful to the legacy of the source material? Thousands of examples are fantastically available, but for a Shakespearean analysis, there is one that plays with the idea of “faithful” and “loose” almost perfectly: The Taming of the Shrew, a masterful comedy about manipulation, courtship, competition, and romantic misery, and at the center of it all are Katherine and Petruchio, two characters that have interestingly stood the test of time.

The Taming of the Shrew is a surprisingly compelling play that has received plenty of loose adaptations, while Macbeth, for example, has direct adaptations that have made it easier to pinpoint differences between each film based on the gritty tragedy. A quick analysis of Orson Welles’ Macbeth (1948) and Roman Polanski’s Macbeth (1971)  indicates both films are constructed with similar (almost parallel) materials: universal themes of fate and ambition, complex characters that will not change (Macbeth and Lady Macbeth will remain Macbeth and Lady Macbeth), and the titular king will be beheaded by the end. However, these adaptations make it harder to understand their overall intent. What are they offering that makes them distinguishable from their source material? Is their consistency a weakness or simply necessary?

Reading The Taming of the Shrew and examining its different adaptations can make it difficult to understand whether filmmakers want to expand on the themes of the original text or reproduce themes satirically to manipulate modern perceptions of the play. The key is to make distinctions by analyzing the play and examining what details have (and have not) been translated into film. In this quasi-analysis, the most prominent detail that enhances the understanding of loose and faithful adaptations in relation to Shrew is how the relationship between principal characters Katherine and Petruchio is portrayed differently in the films Kiss Me Kate (1953) and 10 Things I Hate About You (1999).

Funnily, the large generational gap helps make both films vastly different from each other. On one hand, Kiss Me Kate is reminiscent of the entertainment prominent in the 1950s: musicals. The musical aspect of the film makes it more engaging and jazzy, a lot more upbeat and enjoyable. On the other hand, 10 Things is a more modernized, more adolescent approach to the original text, giving the principal characters more emotional depth (and angst) and encouraging them to grow together unironically as the film progresses. Certainly, there are numerous details to analyze. However, the characterization of the main characters and the representation of their relationship gives audiences a better illustration of their contributions to the original text’s influence.

First, Kiss Me Kate establishes that the main characters Fred (who purposefully embodies and acts as Petruchio) and Lilli (who embodies and acts as Katherine) already have an established connection and are subjected to revisiting their failed marriage. As a divorced couple, they are aware of each other and each other’s flaws, but their relationship is put to the test when they are both participating in (ironically) a musical version of The Taming of the Shrew. This representation of their relationship gives us a glimpse of a potential future where Shrew’s Katherine and Petruchio did not make it work. Using the play as a motivator, these characters begin to embody each character and eventually Fred and Lilli have the opportunity to reevaluate their emotions until, after a distasteful speech about women surrendering themselves to their husbands, they reconcile. The sing-a-long makes the film a bit more digestible and easier to follow, and it is much looser than Franco Zeffirelli’s version (The Taming of the Shrew, 1967). Yet, it reminds the audience that Katherine might always return to Petruchio (a controversial, yet necessary interpretation).

10 Things I Hate About You takes a different approach and remains somewhat truer to the original text. Many events are initiated by Cameron (played by a youthful Joseph Gordon-Levitt), who is in love with the popular, beautiful Bianca (played by Larisa Oleynik). His motivation to date Bianca goes as far as requesting assistance from loner Patrick, played fantastically by Heath Ledger, who agrees to participate in the scheme by trying to woo Bianca’s sister, shrew-ish Kat (played by Julia Stiles). Other than the obviousness in the names of these two characters, Patrick and Kat’s relationship differs from Kiss Me Kate‘s Fred and Lilli in how their relationship is initiated and the absence of familiarity. Both teenagers are nineties archetypes and their relationship blossoms once their involvement becomes more personal, dramatic, and romantic. This massive departure from Kiss Me Kate and the original play challenges the idea of what an adaptation can truly do despite having a foundation somewhere in its center.

We can easily situate where the differences in both films lie. However, the important detail is how the relationship between the main characters makes the original play relevant every time there is an update to the setting, despite general reception. Each film succeeds in modernizing the dynamic between Katherine and Petruchio, giving each character a similar personality to their textual counterparts but keeping a sense of modernity to appeal to contemporary audiences. In a way, loose adaptations encourage cinematic malleability and allow new portrayals of characters without having to depend solely on the source material. Adaptations can be a make-it-or-break-it situation in the hierarchy of cinema, and chock-full is not enough to describe the overabundance of adapted films in an era of overindulgence and fan service. However, looking beyond the superficial dimensions of adapted cinema (hopefully a term not yet coined), we, the moviegoers, can see a different kind of beast, one that does take effort and is dedicated to not only modernizing dusty texts from ye old days but committed enough to entrance newer generations to said texts. The Taming of the Shrew is the best example, as it has been adapted for over a century, from D. W. Griffith’s adaptation (1908) to Kiss Me Kate to 10 Things. Thus, loose adaptations can be more dynamic, exciting, and unpredictable than traditional, faithful adaptations; it simply takes a bit of an eye to see it — and scene!

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