JADAR

★★★★☆

While The King and I might not give you goosebumps, it undoubtedly brings you joy.

This production is the Lincoln Center revival of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s 1951 musical, based on Margaret Landon’s 1944 novel Anna and the King of Siam, which in turn is based on the memoirs of Anna Leonowens.

The narrative follows Anna (Call the Midwife‘s Helen George), who served as a governess to the children of King Mongkut of Siam (Broadway star Darren Lee) in the early 1860s.

Bartlett Sher’s production melds a surprising combination of Broadway melodies with the Siamese culture. The clash between West and East is depicted in every bit of the production. From the moment Anna and her son Louis arrive on the shores of Bangkok, the stark contrast between these two worlds is not only visible but also audible in the songs.

Helen’s sweet, soft voice transports the audience into the dreamy world of a woman who is free and knows what love is. This is particularly evident in her performance of ‘Hello, Young Lovers’.

In contrast, there is a group of the King’s wives, overseen by Lady Thiang (Cezarah Bonner) – the chief wife, each worshipping the King and bearing him children. They cannot understand how a woman can love someone when she is privileged to please the King.

The contrast of two cultures is striking, especially contemporarily. Even today, certain parts of the world uphold conservative cultures and traditions, viewing woman as ‘like a bowl of rice’. The most surprising revelation is the mutual lack of understanding.

In The King and I, however, the Kingdom of Siam wants to change, to liberalise and westernise; they simply have no knowledge of how to achieve it. The whole show is a long process of transforming old laws and traditions into more modern views through learning and enlightenment. Anna, initially a teacher for the King’s children and wives, ultimately becomes the catalyst for modernising the way the country is ruled.

The musical also addresses the universalism of sexism, especially in ‘Western People Funny’, where the King’s wives poke fun at the restrictive clothing of Western women when they are encouraged to abandon their Siamese clothing: “To prove we’re not barbarians, they dress us up like savages.”

During the interval, I heard people trying to decide whether they liked Darren as the King or not. The argument was that the King is supposed to be threatening and powerful, but he seemed to be uncertain and soft. My personal feeling is that the King was undergoing a metamorphosis. He appears threatening to his servants and citizens because that is how they were raised to perceive him.

Anna, however, becomes the first woman to question the King’s behaviour and express her own perspective. As challenging as it is for the stubborn and narrow-minded King to deal with her, he accepts her intelligence and open-mindedness, culminating in a newfound respect and friendship.

The turning point is the 11 o’clock number, ‘Shall we dance’. Not only does the King want to learn the modern polka; he also says, “We dance again, and I try to do it better”, as if accepting the desire to learn new things and evolve. It is a wonderful metaphor.

Beyond the simple yet captivating plot, the show dazzles in numerous ways. With the remarkable performance of the orchestra, conducted by Robert Russell Bennet, the vibrant colours of the curtain and its spellbinding transformations under the light design by Donald Holder, you feel present in the Royal palace from the moment you hear the first note.

The multi-layered decorations by Michael Yeargan are so immersive that a single change in their positioning magically transports the stage to another world.

An adorable cast of children portraying Royal Children evoke both smiles and sighs.

Lastly, Christopher Gattelli‘s dance numbers, accompanied with the detailed costumes crafted by Catherine Zuber, are nothing short of stunning. The hypnotic fusion of Thai movements and Western dance leaves the audience breathless, especially when the gowns swirl as the women twirl.

However, the widely discussed ballet, ‘The Small House of Uncle Thomas’, feels somewhat unnecessary long. While it resembles a separate performance – or a show within a show – it occupies a significant portion of Act II, distracting the viewer from the main narrative – though it does address a segment of the narrative and has consequences later on.

This show may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s perfectly fine. But for those seeking a fairy-tale for grown-ups, The King and I offers a magical evening. The energy is infectious, and it fills you with happiness and joy. Etc. Etc. Etc.

The King and I runs at the Lowry (Lyric Theatre) until January 13 before heading to the Dominion Theatre in the West End from January 20 to March 2 – the final stop of its UK tour.

Photo: Johan Persson