Jose Llana and Laura Michelle Kelly (Matthew Murphy)
Forgive us for mixing Rodgers and Hammerstein references, but how do you solve a problem like The King and I? Its source material clashes—at times marginally, other times starkly—with modern sensibilities. Though often culturally awkward (to be generous), the show now running at the Kennedy Center, a lavish and faithful revival first staged at the Lincoln Center in 2015, is not irredeemable.
Based on the 1944 novel Anna and the King of Siam, by Margaret Landon, The King and I should indeed feel out of step with modernity, as it’s set in 19th-century Bangkok. The story is patterned on that of the real life Indian-born writer and educator Anna Leonowens (Laura Michelle Kelly), a Brit, who arrives in Siam at the behest of King Mongkut (Jose Llana) to impart on his many children a classical, liberal arts education.
But the production leaves a sour aftertaste. The King and I seems to relish in the very Orientalist tropes it seeks to challenge. This marvel from a bygone era (ahem, the 1950s) is a sumptuous feast prepared by, as Anna herself might say, rather uncivilized chefs.
And so, we face a jam. Do apologies need to temper our swoons with Rodgers and Hammerstein’s wonderful music and this particular, brilliant presentation directed by Bartlett Sher? I say no, but you may arrive at a different conclusion.
Yes, I bristled at the show’s inherently patronizing tone. Anna is a gently hectoring proxy for the West, the King a childish stand-in for the East. The fundamental conflict of the work involves a charade in which the King and his subjects “prove” their Western bona fides to British imperialists lest Siam be taken over as a “protectorate” (i.e. via naval invasion).
But this is a rare mid-century musical wherein a central love story isn’t the primary concern. Take its themes, drop them in a different place and time, and The King and I would emerge as a full-throated defense of rationality, science, and (most importantly) pedagogy. If there were ever a place and time begging for their protection, it would be here and now.
I should also note the sensational stagecraft and impeccable performances on display at the Kennedy Center’s Opera House. Sher’s version of The King and I brims with awe from the start, when a ship’s bow, back-dropped by a glorious sunset, enters the stage, to its final heartbreaking moments, inside the walls of a stunning castle. The company is top-notch all around, from Laura Michelle Kelly’s dignified Anna and Jose Llana’s stubborn King, to the show’s star-crossed lovers, Tuptim (Manna Nichols) and Lun Tha (Kavin Panmeechao), and on down to its many acrobatic tots.
The stage itself shifts in real time, its imposing columns moving to and fro. Maximalism and minimalism meet here with a peacemaking genuflection. Every element coalesces during a Siamese rendition of Uncle Tom’s Cabin (“The Small House of Uncle Thomas”). In front of a gorgeous cobalt curtain, the King’s court performs a ballet for him, Anna, the British interlopers, and us. It’s a remarkable sequence topped only by a quieter one shortly afterward, when Anna and the King consummate their mutual admiration through dance.
The King and I’s most famous songs (“I Whistle a Happy Tune,” “Hello, Young Lovers,” “Getting to Know You,” “I Have Dreamed” and “Shall We Dance?”), even by Rodgers and Hammerstein’s standards, best lend themselves to middle-school chorus recitals. And that’s what makes this production feel so alive. They’re dragged unaltered, moral scruples and all, and for better or worse, into the current day.
The King and I is at the Kennedy Center’s Opera House through August 20. $49-$159. Buy tickets here.
