Arts, Culture & Entertainment

Review: A bloodstained ‘Oklahoma!’

The Tony Award-winning revival takes center stage at the Ahmanson this month, bringing a provocative twist to this Golden Age classic

A photo of the cast of "Oklahoma!" in their costumes on stage as they dance and spin each other around.
The company of "Oklahoma!" do-si-do to "The Farmer and the Cowman," choreographed by John Heginbotham (Photo courtesy of Matt Murphy)

Daniel Fish’s “Oklahoma!,” reimagined for a new generation, certainly won’t leave you belting the titular tune on your way out of the theater.

The 2019 Tony Award-winning revival dares to bring “provocative, gritty and sexy 21st century commentary” to the 1943 Rodgers & Hammerstein classic.

Upon entering the Ahmanson Theatre, you might expect to see the budding romance between a charming cowboy Curly McLain (Sean Grandillo) and a stereotypical ingenue Laurey Williams (Sasha Hutchings), culminating in a triumphant reprise of the tune we’ve all come to know: “Oklahoma!”

Its original 1943 Broadway production, which debuted in the midst of World War II, reflected the ideals of a “more homogenous American society,” according to the program’s show note. The new adaptation features a diverse cast of characters, including varying races, ages, gender identities and abilities, to better reflect America today. Notably, Ali Stroker, who played Ado Annie in the 2019 Broadway cast of the show, received a Tony Award for her performance, making her the first wheelchair user to be given this honor.

Though all elements of the score and text remain the same, this revival drastically differed from the original production and previous revivals. In its attempt to make commentary on prominent issues of modern America, including gun violence, mental health and gender, it lost some of the play’s original specificity.

As the house lights remained up, a fresh-faced Curly sang an acoustic version of the opening number “Oh What a Beautiful Morning,” bringing a lovable, rockstar energy to the number.

A seven piece bluegrass band accompanied Grandillo and the rest of the cast, giving the Golden Age score a fresh, country twist. The genre suited the setting of the show as characters lounged in wooden chairs and sported modern trucker hats, flannels and blue jeans. A capella sections of songs like “The Surrey with the Fringe on Top” emphasized the brewing romance between Curly and Laurey.

While the bluegrass style fit this modern adaptation, the blaring electric guitar used throughout the show was jarring, and even caused the senior audience members at the Sunday matinee performance to cover their ears.

Another notable change was the adaptation of the dream ballet sequence. In the 1943 production, choreographed by Agnes de Mille, the groundbreaking 12-minute dance sequence was the first of its kind. Her choreography pushed the emotional lives of the characters forward through movement alone.

Rather than a company of dancers doubling as the leads, the new modern dance sequence, choreographed by John Heginbotham, featured a single dancer (Jordan Wynn), donned in an oversized, sequinned “Dream Baby Dream” T-shirt. Her piece, accompanied by the electric guitar, did not convey Laurey’s turmoil of choosing between her potential suitors – the charming Curly and the lonely farmhand Jud Fry (Christopher Bannow).

Unlike de Mille’s choreography, Heginbotham’s lacked clarity in how it was meant to propel the plot forward. While the dancer seemed to represent Laurey, her haphazard frolicking about the stage did not seem grounded in the conflicts within the play. The repetitive choreography did not succeed in advancing the storyline or reflecting the heroine’s inner struggles. The disconnect was intensified with the abrupt transition into the lively ensemble number “The Farmer and the Cowman.”

During the modern dance sequence, a live night vision camera projected a close-up of Wynn onto the backdrop, allowing audiences to see the details of her face, a luxury not normally granted in theater houses. This shaky projection sequence did provide insight into the dancer’s expressions, but it still felt disconnected from the story at large.

The production also implemented these night vision projections in scenes between sinister boy-next-door Jud and leading man Curly. These intimate scenes, which discussed suicidal thoughts and pornography, first occurred in complete darkness. Bannow’s creaky one-word answers sent a chill throughout the audience. The scene, intensified by the presence of a gunshot, foreshadowed the play’s bloody ending.

The projections that flashed across the screen during “Pore Jud Is Daid,” gave audiences permission to peer into Jud’s eyes and truly see his emotions for the first time. Bannow’s expressive eyes in the extreme close-up almost made me pity him.

Another notable change in the revival was Jud Fry’s death sequence. As seen in the film adaptation and the 1943 production, a knife fight, solicited by Jud, ensues between him and Curly, moments after the cheery wedding ceremony. Curly kills Jud in self-defense.

Fish’s revival spins the death sequence to reflect more modern modes of violence. Jud gifts the newlyweds a handgun at their ceremony. Without much prompting, Curly fires and kills Jud, leaving the bride and groom bloodstained and clearly guilty.

As the bluegrass band played a solemn, dirge-like “Oklahoma” the characters and audience alike seemed perplexed and left craving more. Possibly per Fish’s intention, the murder sequence left me with questions of what really is self-defense in our current political climate.

Hope was restored throughout the play, however, in Fish’s interpretation of the female characters. Hutchings’ Laurey was strong and had agency over the choices between the men in her life. She did not fall victim to the men’s attempts to woo her, rather she stood her ground and made decisions on her own accord. This strength and feminist approach to Laurey’s character struck a chord with me opposed to the original adaptation.

A personal favorite female empowerment moment was “Many a New Day.” The typical, sweet soprano uptempo was accompanied by all the women of the cast ripping corn shucks in half as they lamented about the frustrating men in their lives.

Understudy Gwynne Wood gave a standout performance as Ado Annie, an innocent yet inherently provocative young woman. Her powerhouse, rock rendition of “I Cain’t Say No,” packed with a corded mic and vocal riffs, left audiences cheering.

“Oklahoma!” will run at the Ahmanson Theatre through October 16. More information can be found on Center Theatre Group’s website.