A splendid staging fit for a “King and I”
More than any other Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II hit musical, “The King and I” requires some visual spectacle.
Set in Siam (nearly a century before that Asian nation became Thailand), “The King and I” unfolds in the venerable court of a ceremonious monarch. Minimalism of décor and dress are not what’s expected here - nor what’s required.
No worries about that in the Village Theatre’s new version of the show. As choreographed and staged by the excellent Steve Tomkins and Kathryn Van Meter, it rises to the occasion.
The Issaquah playhouse has wrapped the production in a bedazzlement of gilded and colorful silk brocade, imposingly large statues of Buddha, ornate palace furnishings and hoop-skirted Victorian gowns for the “I” in the title.
That would be Anna Leonowens, the widow who came all the way from England by freighter, to instruct the royal offspring of the Siamese king.
The Leonowens saga has been told and retold on film and stage, debunked and embroidered, ever since Anna wrote an 1870 account of her adventures in Siam, “The English Governess at the Siamese Court.” Two years later, she followed up that popular tome with another: the titillatingly titled book “The Romance of the Harem.”
The veracity of her memoirs, and of the 1950s Broadway smash “The King and I,” have been widely disputed - especially in Thailand, where the musical is banned for its somewhat critical, often jocular portrayal of the devout 19th-century leader Leonowens served, King Mongkut.
If one can ignore the historical glitches and see “The King and I” as a fictional bauble, with an engaging clash of cultures and a rhapsodic score (”Shall We Dance?,” “Hello, Young Lovers” and “I Whistle a Happy Tune”), the show boasts many charms.
And the straightforward, well-sung, beautifully adorned Village mounting is quite a lilting eyeful.
On what must be a fraction of the budget for the last Broadway revival of the musical (which came to Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theatre in 1997), the team of set designer Robert A. Dahlstrom, lighting designer Aaron Copp and costumer Melanie Burgess) have made the thing look (as they used to say) like a million bucks.
As a quite proper, formal Anna, dulcet-voiced Beth DeVries tools around impressively in those gargantuan skirts. And her lavish, bright orange satin gown for the big fancy court ball is as stunning as the one Deborah Kerr wore in the 1956 movie of “King and I.”
The entire court of the imperious yet progressive King (played forcefully by frequent Village leading man Michael K. Lee) is dressed in brilliant shades of gold-embossed yardage, set off handsomely against the palace’s backdrops.
With the eye candy, there’s the music sumptuously played by an ample pit orchestra under the wise command of conductor Bruce Monroe.
DeVries could add some notes to her performance, as she and the prickly, regal Lee grow to be friends, while tangling over matters of state and social decorum. Whether the King’s subjects should prostrate themselves before him, or bow at the waist (like Brits) is one point of contention. Another: Should the wife in the King’s harem, Tuptim (Jennifer Paz, who betrays some vocal strain) be allowed to live, after trying to run off with her lover (played by Christian Rey Marbella).
Kim Varhola is a standout as the insightful Lady Thiang. And children rounded up to play the little royals are a delightfully unaffected lot.
Bryan Djunaedi, a 15-year old who smartly, sweetly portrays King’s main heir, is a real find.
Van Meter and Tomkins have also jointly choreographed “King and I,” impressively if a little fussily (as per the hand gestures). Particularly accomplished is their version of the East-West hybrid ballet, “The Small House of Uncle Thomas,” originally created by Jerome Robbins.
Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com