Anna and the King dance again
Here’s an unlikely basis for a musical; a British schoolteacher’s experience in 19th century Siam. No more unlikely, you might say, than Chinese life in modern San Francisco, or the intersection of American soldiers and natives on a small island during World War II, or the struggles of settlers in American Indian territory. And yet all four were made into musicals, and hit musicals at that. The second of them became Flower Drum Song, the third South Pacific, the fourth Oklahoma.
Their scores were written by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein, and the first on the list, 1951’s The King and I, is now in a handsome revival, under SHN auspices, at the Golden Gate Theater.
Such is the persuasive power of success that we take for granted that The King and I was destined to be a success. Not so, but it benefitted from the transformative power of talent. Oscar Hammerstein happened to be on hand to adapt the true story into a book and to write its song’s lyrics. Richard Rodgers was there to supply the music, and Jerome Robbins stepped in to choreograph the show. It didn’t hurt that its star was Gertrude Lawrence, for whom the work was fashioned, performing alongside a young, relative unknown named Yul Brynner, who was tapped to play the King when Rex Harrison became unavailable. (Brynner later won an Oscar for reprising his role for the movies.)
The result was, and is, Broadway musical history.
The graceful and pleasing SHN take on the classic is a traveling production of its 2015 Tony Award winning Lincoln Center revival, directed by Bartlett Sher. The story is familiar: in 1862, British schoolteacher Anna Leonowens, accompanied by her young son, travels to Siam to instruct the royal children. She’s taken aback to learn that there are more than sixty of them, but she’s plucky—her first song, “Whistle a Happy Tune” tells us so—and she plunges in, despite conflicts with the King, especially over her lodgings. He’s brusque and opinionated, but he’s not as sure of himself as he seems, as his solo, “It’s a Puzzlement,” tells us.
Is The King and I a love story? Yes, though it’s an unconventional one, with no passionate declarations and no physical contact—except during the show’s most celebrated moment: the “Shall We Dance” number, when the King sweeps Anna into his arms and they charge about the stage to the music of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s giddy waltz.
(Note to Donald Trump: there’s nothing like dancing to improve international relations, so—quick!—get Vladimir Putin out on the floor.)
The revival is beautifully mounted, beginning with its striking first scene, when a huge boat docks in Bangkok while Siamese throngs mill about below. The rest of the tale plays out on a stylized set, featuring huge columns and sweeping draperies deployed in front of a tall wall that seems to symbolize the insularity of a nation that wants to prove to the West that it’s not barbaric. The costumes for the cast, which features several charming children, are splendid, the lighting is subtle and varied, and the sound is especially notable in that the the lyrics of the songs, and the dialogue, are bright and clear.
Laura Michelle Kelly is a sturdy yet spunky Anna, with a fine voice. Jose LLana makes a strong King of Siam—an authoritarian with a good heart. Join Almedilla (Lady Thiang), Manna Nichols (Tuptim), Kavin Panmeechao (Lun Tha), and Anthony Chan (Prince Chulalongkorn) add their talents to a winning cast.
The King and I plays at the Golden Gate Theater into December. White Christmas joins the SHN roster of holiday entertainment soon. For tickets/information call 888-746-1799 or visit shnsf.com.
ROBERT HALL