By Ciara LaVelle
By Jose D. Duran
By Kat Bein
By Juan Barquin
By Ciara LaVelle
By George Martinez
By Kat Bein
By Ciara LaVelle
For starters, check out The King & I, the Playhouse's revival of the 1951 Rodgers & Hammerstein classic. The production demands of this huge show are formidable: a large triple-threat cast of singer/dancer/actors, multiple sets and vast racks of costumes, many scene changes and complex dance sequences. Even Broadway thinks at least twice about reviving a show this big, so when Stein and Arisco made the decision to produce the project, they must have held their collective breath. But now they can breathe easy. This King is a decided success, offering excellent performances and an impressive, colorful production staged by Arisco and ably backed by his veteran creative team.
The storyline, based on a true history and a novel created from it, takes place in nineteenth-century Siam, now Thailand, where the traditional, all-powerful king has ordered that his many children by many wives shall be educated in the Western tradition. A widowed British governess, Anna Leonowens, arrives by ship with her young son Louis in tow. She is immediately at odds with the imperious king but soon gains the affection of his many children. Though Anna and the king butt heads often, they form an alliance when the British government, in the person of its ambassador, arrives with the possible threat of colonizing Siam if the king cannot impress the British as a civilized, capable ruler.
The King & I, which also includes several subplots, may lack much high drama but it certainly provides plenty of visual spectacle and a musical score that features several enduring song classics: "Whistle A Happy Tune," "Hello Young Lovers," "Getting To Know You," and "Shall We Dance?" The clash between governess Anna and the authoritarian father, the governess/children relationship, and a number of musical elements all foreshadow Rodgers & Hammerstein's finest work, The Sound of Music, which, by the way, the Playhouse plans to stage next season.
Arisco has met the challenge with skill and style, opting to stage this grand, traditional musical in a traditional manner. He seems in perfect sync with his designers. Stuart Reiter's lighting paints a series of luminous pictures framed by M.P. Amico's massive yet mobile sets, a nice balance between musical hokum and Asian tradition. But the clear design star of this show is the fabulous, meticulously researched costumes of Mary Lynn Izzo, whose use of fabric, drape, color, and texture is remarkable, especially considering the budget and staff limitations she must have faced. To this flavorful mix, add some knockout choreography from Barbara Flaten. Her version of the show's dance set piece, a Siamese rendition of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" called "The Small House of Uncle Thomas Ballet," is a showstopper.
Mary Grace Gordon as Anna and Lego Louis as the king are impressive as they ought to be: Both have played their roles in several other productions of the show and perform with assurance. But neither manages to put much of an original stamp on their roles. Louis maintains the bald-headed look and hands-on-hips stance that Yul Brynner introduced in the original, while Gordon stays within the conventions set by several Annas past.
Arisco's company is blessed with a fine supporting cast, especially Susan Brownfield as a passionate, mellifluous Tuptim, the king's new captive who is in love with another man. Brownfield is well matched with Fausto Pineda as her swain, Lun Tha. The pair has two terrific duets, "We Kiss In a Shadow" and "I Have Dreamed," songs full of passion and romance. Wen Zhang's Lady Thiang is another strong performance, as is the one of Bob Rogerson, who takes the thankless role of the king's major-domo and turns it into a little gem.
What's not to like? I hate to be a spoilsport, but I am not a big fan of this particular musical. Yes, it's a classic with the many famous songs, but many of these don't mesh very well with the storyline, rising out of the narrative arbitrarily. And more than a few meandering songs and scenes seem to exist chiefly to cover set changes. I wish Arisco had been less reverential and cut out some of the fluff in this overlong project. The show also suffers from dated cultural assumptions and a one-joke concept -- look at the funny foreigners -- that really bears signs of age. To its credit the Playhouse team has researched traditional Thai culture, which shows in the costumes, sets, and choreography, but these only tend to point out the book's presumptions of Western superiority. Look at the king's amusing attempts to dance a waltz. Will the British think the Siamese are civilized enough? Can Anna get the Thai women to wear underwear?