Review: Bogan Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew at State Theatre Centre of WA
Bogan Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew at State Theatre Centre of WA
Thursday, January 22, 2026
Curiosity inevitably hangs over any contemporary staging of The Taming of the Shrew, a play whose politics are less ‘problematic’ than structurally hostile. For Bogan Shakespeare, a company long defined by its ability to flatten Shakespearean hierarchies through broad humour and WA specificity, the question was no longer whether the material could be made palatable—but what kind of cultural comfort that palatability now served.
This latest outing relocated Shakespeare’s famously thorny gender politics to a Margaret River couples’ getaway, where wine flights, Airbnbs and awkward middle-aged dating rituals took the place of dowries and arranged marriages.
From the start, the tone was unmistakably BS. Gentle Aussie dad rock drifted through the theatre as the audience settled in, the set divided into three simple zones that efficiently signalled wineries, accommodation and tourist pit stops. It was minimal, functional and legible, though Margaret River here felt less like a lived place than a tourist simulacrum, rendered largely through the lens of “authenticity” (read: consumption).
That lens proved fertile ground for laughs. Settlers Tavern, Simmos Ice Cream, wine flights, chocolate samples—the audience responded with knowing recognition, often warmly. But recognition is not the same as satire, and it was here that The Taming of the Shrew began to feel more reflective than incisive—a curious shift for a company once defined by its irreverence.
At the centre of the chaos was Dean Lovatt, pulling double duty as Narrator and Petruchio. By now, his bogan persona feels iconic within the Bogan Shakespeare universe—a lovable, bullish larrikin with VB-fuelled confidence. Lovatt anchored the show with a big presence and instinctive comic timing, keeping the audience on side even when the jokes veered into risky territory.
Opposite him, Jess Lally as Katherine started in conventional ‘headstrong shrew’ territory, but by the end of the night she exploded off the script in a way that genuinely landed. When she finally shook off the yuppie framing and staked her ground, it was one of the clearest emotional beats of the entire show—and she grabbed it with real force.
Maiken Kruger all but stole the show as the connective tissue of the piece, slipping effortlessly between Bladeriane the tour guide, multiple sommeliers and waitstaff. She was a genuine chameleon, finding distinct physicality and tone in each role, and providing many of the night’s sharpest laughs through passive-aggressive hospitality encounters that may have felt painfully familiar.
The supporting cast rounded things out confidently. Sarah Courtis as Bianca leant into the cloying sister role with just enough knowing irony, while Dawson Andrew’s Lucentio played her finance-bro counterpart with earnestness. If there was a minor blot, Courtis sometimes delivered her lines a touch too quickly, and a few zingers lost their punch.
Tonally, the production could feel cautious. The script was alert to modern language around power and consent—“negging”, “gaslighting”, red-flag discourse and feminist ripostes peppered the dialogue, repeatedly reassuring us that “it’s 2026”. Yet these moments often arrived cushioned rather than interrogated, and the play quickly moved on.
Even so, there were genuinely strong laughs, and there is no denying this cast’s chemistry and commitment. Where the show ultimately found its clearest footing was in its refusal to fully resolve the central pairing. The closing speech—jointly delivered, awkwardly shared—gestured towards autonomy rather than submission, allowing the possibility that happiness might not look like coupling at all.
Bogan Shakespeare’s longevity as a WA success story is not in question, but The Taming of the Shrew suggested a company now negotiating a different relationship with its subject matter and its audience. The play’s gender politics can’t simply be played straight in 2026, and while this version clearly knew it, it could have treated it with a little less care and a little more confrontation.
If what you most want from BS is clever Aussie observation and a good laugh, you’ll walk out smiling; but if your tastes are anything like this shrew, you might walk out wishing for a little more bite.
CAT LANDRO
