A hush comes over the house. This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, and we’re not disappointed. In the middle of the friendly dance, the King tells Mrs. Anna that holding two hands is not how the dance is done. She agrees, and as he places his hand firmly around her waist, there’s a slight gasp from the audience. This is where the respect, friction, and friendship of two people from vastly different worlds reveals the sexual attraction beneath the surface. There’s real exaltation as the couple whirls around the stage to an exuberant polka; the gorgeous lilac gown lifts in the back to show a flash of white petticoat, just so. “Shall We Dance”? Absolutely!
Kelli O’Hara makes Anna Leonowens completely her own in this King and I. She’s coming to Siam with her young son, Louis (Jake Lucas), to teach the children –and, as it turns out, the many wives-of the reigning monarch to speak English; and moreover, to help them understand the world as it is in 1860. She has a simple request: she wants her own house. Although the King has agreed, he reneges on his promise. He wants Anna to live in the palace, like all the other women he commands. But this Welsh woman is like no female he’s ever met before. She’s smart, spunky, and stubborn. She will get her way; the King has met his match. O’Hara brings a unique blend of dignity and warmth to a role that’s often played as a way-too-proper repressed Victorian (Donna Murphy’s interpretation in the 1996 revival comes to mind). When O’Hara sings “Hello, Young Lovers,” it’s obvious that she’s fervently thinking of her own romance with her late husband, Tom. This passion justifies her interference in the affair of the King, notably Anna’s empathy for the “gift” from the Burmese ruler, the girl Tuptim.
Tuptim has fallen in love with Lun Tha (Conrad Ricamora), who has brought her to Siam. Ashley Park is very much a Tuptim for our time. She’s not at all the shy flower we’ve come to expect from the stereotype of subservient Asian woman. She’s educated; she speaks far better English than the King. She’s creative; she both writes and directs an adaptation of her favorite book, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” And she’s very strong. She focuses her ballet on the idea that slavery is wrong, and that lovers should not be expected to follow the dictates of a tyrant. This is dangerous in the extreme; Tuptim and Lun Tha will pay dearly for this perceived insult to the King.
Ken Watanabe has movie star presence as the King. He’s difficult to understand at times but so expressive that it hardly matters. By turns frightening, tender, and baffled, he’s always impressive. Watanabe and O’Hara have great chemistry; without it, this classic Rodgers and Hammerstein musical would be “been there, done that” for the audience. Tackling the role that Yul Brynner made iconic, first in 1951 onstage, then in the 1956 movie, would be daunting for most actors. But Watanabe brings a unique amount of heart and variety to the monarch; he allows true anguish and sensitivity to show, not only in his treatment of Tuptim, but also in his soliloquy, “A Puzzlement.”
Ruthie Ann Miles makes the most of her solo, “Something Wonderful,” to explain how much and why Lady Thiang, the head wife, cares for her husband. The children are, of course, adorable. The ladies of the court manage to carve out their individual characters while remaining firmly a unit.
The music soars; what a joy to hear the familiar overture before the show begins. Choreographer Christopher Gatteli breathes new life into Tuptim’s ballet, “The Small House of Uncle Thomas.” As beautiful as it is, it also serves to increase the tension surrounding Tuptim’s impertinence. Catherine Zuber’s costumes are enchanting; the aforementioned ball gown stands out, but even the underclothing worn by the wives when they meet Sir Edward Ramsey (Edward Baker-Duly) is perfect. Director Bartlett Sher has once again brought to life a classic of the musical theater, as he did with the superb South Pacific in 2008. It’s no coincidence that was also a Lincoln Center production, and that O’Hara was the star. May this team go on to present many more exceptional productions together, but it’s hard to imagine anything that could top South Pacific and now, The King and I. After all, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore, and more’s the pity.
