“Not OK”
(Note: this review is followed by the entry on Oklahoma! from my Encyclopedia
of the New York Stage, 1940-1950. Those interested in a plot summary will
find one there.)
This isn't a conventional review but I thought it a good opportunity to offer some personal remarks about Oklahoma!
Rodgers and Hammerstein’s groundbreaking musical Oklahoma! first appeared on Broadway
when I was three, its music quickly becoming a staple on my family’s record
player. I grew up loving the music, the lyrics, the story, the characters, the
cowboy atmosphere, and the voices of its original stars, especially Alfred
Drake as Curly, Joan Roberts as Laurey, and Celeste Holm as Ado Annie.
I didn’t see it performed, though, until 1955, when Gordon
MacRae, Shirley Jones, and Gloria Grahame played those roles in the movie. A
few years later, we did it when I was a theatre student at Brooklyn College,
where my good friend, Larry Strickler, still going strong, played Curly.
Brooklyn College had its own connection to the show, in
fact, since Alfred Drake,
who became a major theatre star after Oklahoma!
(he passed in 1992), had been a student there in the 1930s, something in
which I took enormous pride. With that in mind, about 20 years ago, when I
headed the Brooklyn College Theatre Department, I created the Alfred Drake
Award for distinguished service to the American theatre. For its first
recipient, I chose Celeste Holm.
Part of the proceedings included listening to a recording of
Drake singing “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin',” as I introduced Ms. Holm, who
showed up in a gorgeous pink coat, after which we played her singing “I Cain’t
Say No.” Afterward, accompanied by my friend Mimi Turque, I
drove her to her apartment house on Central Park West, making it one of the grandest
nights of my life.
So my excitement at seeing the latest revival of Oklahoma!, directed by Daniel Fish, which
I wasn’t able to attend when it premiered last year at St. Ann’s Warehouse in
Brooklyn, was intense. As usual, I deliberately avoided reading the reviews but
couldn’t help being aware of the numerous kudos the show had received from
critics who’d already seen it. To date, out of 23 reviews on Show-Score, eight (including the Times) have given it a 95 and one a 90.
I also knew that there were, as always, a small number of
outliers who were modestly underwhelmed, with an even smaller number negative enough to fail it. In no way did I think I could possibly end up feeling in any way
similar. Friends, I did. (My wife even more so.)
Still, even though I spotted several abandoned seats after
the first act, I thought we were an anomaly. Afterward, as I left the Circle in
the Square, however, I passed a klatch of female critic acquaintances huddled
together and talking excitedly as if something remarkable had just occurred.
Seeing me, they looked up, anxious for my on-the-spot opinion. Not knowing their
own responses and realizing I could be stepping on a hornet’s nest I answered
honestly: “Travesty.” Bang! They erupted in celebration as if I’d just validated everything
they’d been saying.
It had taken a while, though, for my feelings to coalesce.
If you’re familiar with the Circle in the Square you’ll be
surprised, positively at first, to walk into such a bright space (designed by
Laura Jellinek). Scott Zielenski’s lights glow on near-white, plywood-covered walls,
white audience carpeting, and the venue’s familiar U-shaped acting area, also
covered in pale plywood. Shiny red streamers hang from the ceiling and the
surrounding walls are covered with a veritable arsenal of rifles in well-stocked
gun-racks.
Lining the inner perimeter of the U are long, white, picnic
tables, which serve as row A for audience seating. On each are red, electric pots with
signs warning that they’re hot. At the U’s open space is a high wall on which a
faint landscape can be seen; doorways are built into it for entrances and exits.
The seven-member orchestra sits in a slight depression near the curve of the U,
dressed, like the actors, in modern Western gear provided by costumer Terese
Wadden.
 |
| Damon Daunno. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
Old musicals often need upgrading in one form or another to
make them as appealing to modern audiences as they were when they were
new. It’s all a matter of degree and sensitivity to the tastes of traditionalists
and those seeking relevance to their own lives and times. So the novel look of
the space suggests something really different with, hopefully, an excitingly
new take on something we take for granted.
It isn't long before you realize that Fish’s production isn't using locale-defining scenery; that the lights are staying on most of the
time, illuminating the audience as well as the show; that the cast of 12 is considerably smaller than most Oklahoma! productions,
whose original company had 23 performers; that the
actors are watching from the sidelines even when not in
a scene; that there's some unconventional casting, including wheelchair-bound
Ali Stroker as Ado Annie; and that Daniel Kluger’s musical arrangements are,
to put it mildly, on the eccentric side.
 |
| Ali Stroker, James Davis. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
For a time, all is well and good, even when Curly (Damon
Daunno), accompanying himself on the guitar, opens the show by abandoning the soaringly
lyrical beauty of “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'” for a Country Western sound,
even adding a twang and a few yodels. By the time the two hour
and 45-minute show is over, you’ll either be frustrated to the point of anger
or expounding, like the man behind me during the intermission, that “This is
the most exciting thing I’ve seen this year.”
So, without going into excruciating detail about every
annoying “innovation,” let me simply recall a few things that struck flat notes for me. Yes, the lights remain on, mostly; in fact, this Oklahoma! sometimes feels like Bertolt
Brecht directed it to explore its darker, subterranean themes by
exposing them for us to closely observe and contemplate with the aid of experimental techniques, even at the expense of vigorous pacing, crowd-pleasing
dancing, and glorious music.
 |
| Ali Stroker, Will Brill. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
At times, though, the lighting becomes dreamlike to imply
inner thoughts, or even goes completely dark for entire scenes, like the one in
Jud Fry’s (Patrick Vaill) smokehouse with Curly, where we hear the dialogue
spoken into a handheld mic. Yes, this is yet another avant-garde production using mics, providing significant amplification, to suddenly shift the
tone and remind us this is theatre, not reality. Several songs also use this
clichéd device.
Similarly, and again mainly for shock value, the large wall
several times becomes a screen for black and white video images, including an eyeball to eyeball confrontation between Jud and Curly, allowing us to see the
tears forming in the actors’ eyes. It also figures heavily in what may be the production’s
most shockingly outré contribution, the dream ballet.
 |
| Mallory Portnoy, Damon Daunno. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
This is not a dance-inflected production—the best routine is
the hoedown to “The Farmer and the Cowman” at the box social. The most famous choreographic number, Laurey and Curly’s “Out of My Dreams” ballet, has been scrapped in favor of something indescribably bizarre. I’m referring to
choreographer John Heginbotham’s crazed terpsichorean nightmare in which,
following a heavy shower of cowboy boots falling from the rafters, dancer Gabrielle
Hamilton, wearing a shiny, white, vinyl-like, mini-nightdress on which the
words DREAM BABY DREAM are emblazoned, runs acrobatically amok about the large
space.
 |
| Gabrielle Hamilton. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
Her manic tour de force, accompanied by an aggressively hallucinatory
arrangement, comes off as unleashed and ugly meaninglessness, perhaps intended to signify Laurey’s sexual confusion. Since the shaved-headed Hamilton,
aside from being black, bears absolutely no resemblance to the thick-tressed Rebecca
Naomi Williams, who plays Laurey, I can’t imagine what those who don’t know Oklahoma! could possibly make of this hard-to-watch segment.
 |
| Patrick Vaill, Damon Daunno. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
I think I’ve made my point, so it’s probably not necessary
to comment on the singing, none of which—as constrained by directorial
imperatives—more than briefly captures the beauty or integrity of the score (when it isn’t
damaging it); the annoyingly hysterical
laughing of Gertie Cummings (Mallory Portnoy), the third romantic female role;
the sluggishly serious pace; or the conversion of Aunt Eller (Mary Testa) into
a bellicose loudmouth.
 |
| Damon Daunno, Mary Testa. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
Still, I can’t resist noting the truly weird and unjustified
staging of the climax when Curly, using a pistol, kills Jud (who traditionally dies by falling on his knife), and the equally strange way in which the dialogue has been organized
to resolve it. I won’t describe the bloody scene in detail but, if you can imagine what would
it would look like if Carrie met Curly and Laurey, you’d have a glimpse of what
I’m getting at.
 |
| Rebecca Naomi Jones, Damon Daunno. Photo: Little Fang Photo. |
The closing line of the great song that gives the show its
title ends, of course, with “You’re doing fine Oklahoma! Oklahoma, okay.” For
this viewer, though, Daniel Fish’s Oklahoma!
isn't doing fine at all, and it’s certainly not OK.
Circle in the Square
1633 Broadway, NYC
Through September 1
OTHER VIEWPOINTS:
The following is an
abbreviated essay on Oklahoma! from
my Encyclopedia of the New York Stage,
1940-1950.
Oklahoma! Book/lyrics:
Oscar Hammerstein II; Music: Richard Rodgers; Source: Linn Rigg’s play, Green Grow the Lilacs; Director: Rouben
Mamoulian; Choreography: Agnes de Mille; Scenery: Lemuel Ayers; Costumes: Miles
White; Producer: Theatre Guild; Theatre: St. James Theatre; opening: March 31,
1943; performances: 2,248.
One of the most popular and influential musicals of all
time, Oklahoma! marked the beginning
of the brilliant musical theatre partnership of Rodgers and Hammerstein, formed
when Rodgers broke up his previous partnership with Lorenz Hart (who would die
later the same year). The show came at a time when the venerable Theatre Guild was nearly broke
(it had only $30,000 in its coffers) after having produced too few hits in its
last several seasons.
Guild leader Theresa Helburn
conceived the notion of turning Lynn Riggs’s 1931 folk play, Green Grow
the Lilacs, into a musical and the idea appealed to Rodgers, who was
given permission by the ailing Hart to seek another collaborator. Hammerstein,
who was selected, had himself been interested for some time in making a musical
out of Riggs’s play (with Jerome
Kern) and even brought his idea to Helburn only to learn that she had
already spoken about such a work with Rodgers.
Alfred Drake was cast as Curly and Joan Roberts as Laurey,
and the participated in the fund-raising efforts for the show, but this was an
arduous process because few people thought it a sound investment.
Oklahoma! was a
milestone work, advancing the technique established by such earlier shows as
the Princess Theatre
musicals and Show Boat of
integrating all its effects and tying the music, songs, and dances to a
distinctive and adult story told intelligently, with consistency, and with
fully developed characters. Extremely important was the psychological nature of
the fundamental conflict. Nothing was allowed to detract from the overall
harmony of effect or to hinder the progress of the action. It was selected as
one of Burns Mantle’s 10 Best Plays of the Year.
The show opened in New Haven, CT, in March 1943, under the
title Away We Go! and was subsequently
called Swing Your Lady, Cherokee Strip, and Yessiree before Oklahoma! was
settled on. Some who saw it out of town felt that it was a certain flop. An
informant of columnist Walter Winchell wired him the following: “NO GIRLS, NO
LEGS, NO JOKES, NO CHANCE.” Broadway jokesters referred to it as “Helburn’s Folly.”
When it opened in New York, though, many reviewers were aware that they were
viewing a masterpiece, although a few took some convincing.
The show ran for over five years; its national company was
on the road for 10 and a half. It was produced internationally, its London
version snaring 1,548 performances. The Guild’s finances were restored to
robust health, and the show’s individual investors were richly rewarded. A
decade after the show opened, the Guild had earned more than $5 million on an
$83,000 gamble. Investors putting $10,000 in the show earned back $250,000
within five years. Its long run made it the champion in this category for
fifteen years. Each of the original players was succeeded by a string of
others.
The story, which closely follows that of Riggs’s play, is set
in Indian Territory early in the 20th century. Curly is a handsome
young ranch hand in love with Laurey, who lives with Aunt Eller (Betty Garde) on
the latter’s farm. He wants to take her to the box social, although he has to
admit he doesn’t own a surrey with the fringe on top.
Will Parker (Lee Dixon; the character isn’t in the original
play) arrives back from an exciting trip to Kansas City, MO. The fifty dollars
he has won in a steer-roping contest will allow him to marry Ado Annie (Celeste
Holm). Annie, however, is torn between her attraction to Will and to the Persian
peddler, Ali Hakim (Joseph Buloff), whose invitation to go to a hotel with him
she has mistaken for a proposal of marriage.
Curly learns that among his rivals for Laurey is the
unpleasant farm hand Jud Fry (Howard da Silva), whom Laurey has agreed to have
drive her to the box social. Curly decides to take the attractive Gertie
Cummings (Jane Lawrence) to the party instead, which upsets Laurey.
Annie’s shotgun-toting father (Ralph Riggs) scares Ali into
proposing for real.
The jealous Curly goes to Jud’s smokehouse, which is adorned
with pictures of naked women, to tell him to stay clear of Laurey. When Jud
breaks through Curly’s roundabout way of offering him advice, he grows angry. After
Laurey’s friends express surprise at her seeming preference for Jud, she lapses
into a dream that is enacted as a ballet (with Marc Platt as Curly and Katharine
Sergava as Laurey). The dream, in which Jud bests Curly in a fight and carries
her off, makes her realize that Jud isn’t for her.
Soon, the box social is given, with Jud and Curly bidding to
buy Laurey’s box supper, Curly having to sell his gun and horse to win the
bidding. Ado and Will have meanwhile agreed to marry and have set the date. Jud
makes advances to Laurey but her rejection angers him. Shortly after Curly and
Laurey agree to wed, Jud returns and fight breaks out between the two men; Jud
dies on the blade of his own knife. Curly is acquitted by a judge who is
present and Curly and Laurey depart in a surrey with the fringe on top.
Beautifully interwoven with the story are such now-standard
songs as “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’,” “the Surrey with the Fringe on Top,” “Kansas
City,” “I Cain’t Say No,” “Many a New Day,” “People Will Say We’re in Love,” “Pore
Jud is Daid,” “Out of My Dreams,” “The Farmer and the Cowman,” “All Er Nuthin!,”
and “Oklahoma!” Lewis Nichols of the Times
dubbed the work a “folk operetta” and suggested that Oklahoma grab the
title tune for its state anthem; it eventually did.
The critics praised the variety and excellence of the songs,
the expert integration of music, comedy, and drama, the cleverness and emotional
depth of de Mille’s choreography, the intelligence of the book and lyrics
(although Louis Kronenberger of PM referred
to the book as “just one of those things”), the excellence of the costumes, and
the superiority of the players and direction.
Speaking of DeMille’s work, Rosamond Gilder of Theatre Arts Monthly noted how she
demonstrated that “a dance can be comic, gaily satiric as well as lyric and
robust. Miss de Mille’s dances do not interrupt the action with an arbitrary
restatement of a lyric theme in terms of movement, but on the contrary they
move the plot forward, enlarging its scope.” The show’s famous dream sequence
Gilder describes as follows: “Its bevies of awkward farm girls and long-limbed
horsemen astride imaginary broncos sweep the stage with gusts of merriment;
they are the essence, the embodied spirit of the hearty girls and boys whose
vigorous measures enliven the other scenes of the play.”
George Jean Nathan, in Theatre
Book of the Year, found it difficult to say more about the show than that
it “constitutes agreeable entertainment,” but most critics were lavish with
their superlatives. There was abundant praise for all the principals, several
of whom became major stars on the basis of this show. Alfred Drake, said George
Freedley of the New York Morning
Telegraph, “has the makings of a new star. He has acting ability far above
the average, looks, personality and a beautiful and flexible voice. His acting
and singing of the cowboy lover goes a long way towards making the play a
success.”
Burton Rascoe of the New
York World-Telegram was bowled over by Holm, who “simply tucked the show under
her arm and just let the others touch it. This is an astounding young woman,
Miss Holm. . . . When you see and hear her sing the rather naughty song, ‘I Can’t
[sic] Say No,’ you are in for a tickling
thrill. And you just wait for her next number. . . . Miss Holm, with her fresh
beauty, has too much talent to be quite credible.”
