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The curtain alone is a treat. A shimmering and silky wall of reds and golds, sunsets and dawns, it spreads on the stage to reveal the kingdom of Siam, 1862, and the magnificent return of Bartlett Sher on this classic from Rodgers and Hammerstein. beginning). There is not a scene here that is not pleasant to look at, carved by the elegant courtyard of Michael Yeargan's pillars and screens. But more than that: Sher's staging brings a nuanced level of intelligence to the troubling racial politics of the play. It also presents a sublime performance of Kelli O & # 39; Hara in its center.
First staged in 1951, The King and I may have been progressive for the time, attacking, in the Broadway musical format, questions of the Slavery and women's equality. But her story – of Anna, an intelligent Victorian widow, who travels to Bangkok to teach the monarch's children and enlighten them both, and he, in Western values - now feels uncomfortably colonial.
Sher's production does not entirely overcome it, but she finds depths, subtleties and irony in the play. It draws the absurdity of Western behavior – crinoline, uncomfortable shoes, obsession with morals – and arrogance under the assumption that the only way to impress a sent of passage and, through it, the western world, is to produce English. having dinner. He underlines the King's determination to maintain the independence of his country by modernizing it, and his own personal struggle to adapt.
Ken Watanabe's King is a rich study of a man who fights change: he can be volatile and gruff but also vulnerable and even playful. Anna and Anna, of O & # 39; Hara, are both keen, spiritual, and conventioned individuals. Their famous duet – "Shall We Dance?" – is a joyful release. And O & # 39; Hara is superb: it brings warmth, hurt and a vibrant intelligence to the party. Her solo "Hello, Young Lovers" is simply haunting, enveloping the entire auditorium in the poignant memory of lost love, but it also gives a quiet authority to Anna's determination to be treated fairly.
Around them an excellent and vast Asian casting gives life to the court, while the individual performances enrich and obscure the themes: Naoko Mori's Lady Thiang is a wise and vigilant woman who successfully negotiates her position Wife of an autocratic monarch; The beautiful and fragile Tuptim of Na-Young Jeon ends up rebelling against his "gift" position to the king. The plays are spectacular. But above all, this staging takes place quietly on the role of Anna as a teacher and on the importance of mutual learning of different cultures.
★★★★ ☆
Reservation in September, kingandimusical.co.uk
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