East meets West in Sondheim's quaint, oddly proportioned musical ceremony with book by John Weidman. The culture clash is multifold. Sondheim's characteristic Sunday in the Park manner is wedded to delicate, percussion-filled orchestrations by Jonathan Tunick.
Act One's music-dominated development is flavored like a decorous folktale. Then Act Two's book-dominated continuation (only four of the 12 songs are here) turns to biting satire. All the while, we're taking a stylized look at the westernization of Japan, beginning with Commodore Matthew Perry's mission to Japan. Nobody in the island kingdom had seen a steamship before, so Sondheim's "Four Black Dragons," describing the first impression made by Perry's fleet, has the ring of historic truth. The fearful Commodore, with true American brashness and arrogance, ratchets up the islanders' consternation by insisting on dealing only with the Emperor's highest emissaries. After all, he has brought a letter from President Millard Fillmore addressed to the Emperor -- and the Commodore's mission is to open trade with Japan.
He means business. So do the nations of Europe when the ceremonious Japanese finally devise a way to greet a filthy foreigner on their soil without losing face. The pivotal moment in the show comes at the start of Act Two, after America negotiates its trade treaty. French, Dutch, Russians, and British (in the style of Gilbert & Sullivan) quickly cross the previously inviolable water that surrounds the stage.
The silent hulk of a Commodore might as well be called the Commendatore from Don Giovanni -- the monster we all remember from the movie version of Amadeus. Sondheim and Weidman show the West raping and ravaging Japan. But the all-Asian cast, helmed by the first-ever Japanese director of a Broadway show, get the satisfaction of taking revenge on their exploitng conquerors, ingesting their technology and building a dominant economic powerhouse.
B.D. Wong is outstanding as the Reciter. But too much of the evening dwells on the provincialism of Japan, scurrying around in panic as the Commodore lies anchored in Tokyo Bay. That leaves too little time to tap into Japan's rich culture, their resilience, and their strength. And too few satiric salvos against the Occident.
