[In the following review of Phyllida Lloyd's 2003 Globe Theatre production of The Taming of the Shrew, Hemming contends that while Lloyd's all-female production “sacrifices subtlety and depth,” it “relishes the broad comedy of the play.”]

It was perhaps asking too much of fate to put a man at the helm of the Globe's all-female production of The Taming of the Shrew, Shakespeare's notorious, apparently misogynist comedy. At all events, it was not to be. The original director, Barry Kyle, departed during rehearsals, and Phyllida Lloyd stepped in to try to tame The Shrew.

And what a play for the all-woman company to choose. This is the comedy that has the wayward Kate so brought to heel by the domineering Petruchio that she urges others of her sex to place their hands beneath their husbands' boots—a sentiment that would make even the most faint-hearted feminist burn holes in her spouse's smalls.

Rather than struggle with this troublesome piece, however, the girls' strategy is to have fun with it. Striding about the stage in doublet and hose, the cast adopts its male personas with relish, slapping each other on the back, drumming the table and lounging with their legs apart—in short, enjoying all the laddish behaviour that would still be thought unladylike today.

It works a treat. Rather than hammer home the fact that the men's attitudes are outrageous—for this is a play above all about the marriage market—it gently sends them up. It neatly puts Petruchio's behaviour into context; for while his determination to bludgeon Kate into submission may be shocking, it is at least honest, making the haggling among her sister's suitors come across as grubby. It also reminds us that everyone in the piece is disguising themselves, putting on an act, playing the part expected in the mating game.

Into all this strides Janet McTeer's Petruchio with a wild sort of integrity. McTeer makes a smashing Petruchio and has a ball with the part. She makes her entrance still groping a lusty wench from the night before, delivers her first speech fiddling with her breeches and before long is relieving herself against a column. Her swaggering bravado is absurdly comical, yet believable enough.

McTeer is delightfully paired with Kathryn Hunter as Kate. This Kate is a match for her man. Hunter plays her transformation beautifully and delivers the infamous final speech with such heartfelt sincerity that Petruchio actually weeps, until he realises she has beaten him at his own game.

This is a production that relishes the broad comedy of the play. It sacrifices subtlety and depth, which detracts from the lasting power of the play and means that we miss out on its deeper humanity. But it's fun while it lasts and, as the play so ably demonstrates, it's almost impossible to tame The Shrew completely.