The Gershwin Theater has finally found a tenant sizable enough to fill its outsized reaches, and for the most part, Trevor Nunn's unsurprising but perfectly respectable revival of Oklahoma! makes good on being the latest Cameron Mackintosh spectacle. This transfer of the Royal National Theatre's acclaimed production (which catapulted Aussie Hugh Jackman to international stardom) makes good of the show's old-fashioned intentions, though its makers are clearly trying to fashion an Oklahoma! for the new millennium. Situations have been rearranged, sections have been trimmed, and thematic elements have been introduced (for starters, Laurey, the show's female heroine, is now as rough-and-tumble as the boys), and while Nunn's vision leans toward the obvious at intervals, it never ceases to entertain, and dusts away the musical's cobwebs and moth balls to achieve something more singular in its best moments.
The wonderful Patrick Wilson is this production's Curly, the "good guy" cowpoke hero of the Rodgers and Hammerstein tale. Wilson, with his effervescent boyish demeanor and clear, supple voice, would at first seem miscast as the anxious, rugged male lead, but he brings his unfettered decency to a role that sometimes has a tendency to played for its manly bravado. Wilson fits the manly bravado part too, but in the opening minutes of the play fully disarms viewers. His take on one the signature tune, "The Surrey With the Fringe on Top," has made the song more indelible, finding its grace notes without overstating the simplicity.
The makers have found interesting ways to explore Oklahoma!'s central love triangle. They have not only made Laurey more than your routine, aw-shucks, lovestruck country gal but have transformed the arch nemesis, Jud, into a pillar of misunderstood brutishness. As played resourcefully and commandingly by Shuler Hensley, Jud is no longer your average fight-pickin' redneck type. Hensley plays him almost like a John Steinbeck loner, who shields himself with anger because he knows no other way. Because of this, the duel over Laurey by the two men rings more authentically. If only the lady they battled over was worth all the trouble... Nunn's production is noteworthy in that it casts a proficient dancer in the pivotal female role; the Dream Laurey that appears at the end of Act One is actually performed by the same actress. But Josefina Gabrielle, in this important role, is a far more enticing dancer than actress. Taking her cues from the incomparable contributions of the gifted Susan Stroman (who has a few of her signature, always elegantly-constructed dance pieces here as choreographer), she glides like a princess in the above-mentioned dream dance, but otherwise is a merely average singer and actor. Gabrielle never sells her more confrontational moments and shares little chemistry with either Wilson or Hensley, who seem to be working overtime to fill the gaps.
A few other performers ring hollow as well. Jessica Boevers, as Laurey's man-lovin' mate, Ado Annie, is arch and not terribly creative in a role that calls for natural comic timing, and Aasif Mandvi, as a Persian peddler stuck in the romantic mix, is too overstated by half, making any Indian character on "The Simpsons" seem mellow by comparison. Justin Bohon is agreeable as the lovelorn Ado Annie's intended, and Andrea Martin, while at times too contemporary for the role of unflappable Aunt Eller, is nevertheless always welcome. In the small role of Ado Annie's gun-totin' papa, Michael McCarty does wonders with very little, getting laughs for fairly dry material.
The Gershwin Theater is almost never a show's friend, what with its unruly stage and far-reaching outskirts, but Nunn and company use the venue to its fullest. Anthony Ward's sets and costumes are far from revolutionary but suit the production's needs, as does David Hersey's often clever lighting designs. Nunn, as a director, is not terribly visionary (nor has he ever really been), but his talent seems to be reigning in productions that threaten to spin out of control.
Judging from the audience's rapt attention to a lengthy musical (three hours), it's semi-reassuring that the people can actually see an oldie that hasn't been shamelessly streamlined to suit wavering attention spans. The production, while not startling by any means, does keep us alert and interested and never feels like it it's pitching itself to any lowest common denominator to sell tickets. That in itself makes Oklahoma!, in its own verse, o-kay.
