I’m not 100% sure where Rodgers and Hammerstein’s classic, “Oklahoma!,” ranks among the pantheon of great musicals. A quick Google search puts “West Side Story,” “Cabaret,” “Guys and Dolls,” and even a Broadway production of The Who’s “Tommy” ahead of the 1943 musical based on the play “Green Grow the Lilacs” by Lynn Riggs. Regardless, there’s a long-running tradition of reviving musicals and updating any aspects that might have aged poorly or become irrelevant. So, it’s not as if any musical, regardless of supposed importance, is deemed untouchable or any variations blasphemous.
In 2019, director Daniel Fish reimagined ‘Oklahoma!’ as a stark, brooding musical with a minimalist set design and little-to-no dancing aside from an interpretive routine — complete with a “Dream Baby Dream” tee — that was previously a short ballet number to represent a dream sequence. Broadway introduced this version to Fort Worthians Tuesday night, and the reception was, well, mixed.
Uncomfortable whispers started almost immediately once it was obvious this version of ‘Oklahoma!’ was a departure from the 1955 film starring Gordon MacRae, Shirley Jones, and Rod Steiger. At intermission, a large portion (one might call if half if they wish to exaggerate slightly) of the audience had left. For better or worse, a large portion of Fort Worth’s theatergoers had sent a clear message that such artistic flare was not to their liking.
Unlike other recent renditions of ‘Oklahoma!’ — some of which have gone all-in on placating to modern politics — Fish is loyal to Hammerstein’s original book, and all songs are performed beginning to end and in-sequence. The play still follows two suitors, Curly and Jud, trying to win the heart of a young woman, Laurey, at a box social. The differences come in the form of presentation. Fish’s cast, unlike the original ‘Oklahoma!,’ includes diverse characters with Black actors filling lead roles, including Laurey and Ado Annie. Lush orchestration is supplanted with a live six-piece band that performs the music for each song. And, most importantly, the musical’s supposed antagonist, Jud, is reimagined as a far more sympathetic character. Fish accomplishes this through casting, delivery of his lines, and a tweak to his demise.
In the original, Jud is a brutish farmhand with a short temper — any hints of mental illness are somehow glazed over by his scary, unacceptable actions. While he is a round character who elicits some sympathy, he also does a fine job of filling the scary bad guy role; there’s little doubt whom the audience should root for Laurey to choose. In Fish’s version, Jud is a thin, handsome loner who clearly struggles with depression and anxiety. He stumbles over his words and routinely questions himself, yet it’s not far-fetched to imagine Laurey returning his feelings. His unrequited love is now at the story’s front and center. A minimalist, lights-out duet of “Pore Jud is Daid” between Curly and Jud — with black-and-white footage of the pair singing projected behind them — is one of the musical’s most intense and heartbreaking scenes.
Curly, on the other hand, is portrayed all-at-once as cocky and charismatic, yet jealous and possessive. One of the more troubling aspects of the original was the death of Jud followed by a kangaroo court that dismisses any wrongdoing on the part of Curly. The cast then joyously sings the final number as Curly and Laurey head out for their honeymoon — almost dancing on the grave of poor Jud.
Fish’s ending has Jud gift Curly a revolver and goad the cocky cowboy into shooting him, effectively committing suicide. The merits of the makeshift court are immediately questionable, and disturbed cast members — with Jud’s blood on their faces and clothes — burst abruptly into a chaotic, traumatizing rendition of the title song. Curtain.
I will say that I heard some suggest that Fish’s version presented Curly and Jud as being in love with one another. For what it’s worth, I don’t agree with this assessment — I saw Jud and Curly as being in love with the same woman, as is portrayed in the original. Though, I think such a diversion would have been interesting.
I’m going to give this wonderful city and its theater-goers the benefit of the doubt in presuming the minor exodus was not triggered by the portrayal of an interracial love triangle. Rather, I have a hunch that the musical’s avant-garde approach was simply enough of an offense to convince a number of Fort Worthians to head for the exit.
In my humble opinion, I found the musical brilliant and well worth the price of admission. Outside of a slightly off-key performance by the actress who portrayed Aunt Eller, the performances were top-notch and pitch-perfect. I would also argue that this retelling patches up parts of the original I found disturbing and presents the musical’s nuances in a daring and thought-provoking way. Much like the city we call home, the performance is all at once modern and traditional (where banjos and hoodies find common ground). Despite its title, it’s the most Fort Worth musical I’ve ever seen. If Tuesday’s reception is any indication, it appears we have a long way to go before all Fort Worthians are accepting of such change.
