Plen’y of Heart and Plen’y of Hope

Lead dancer Gabrielle Hamilton was magnetic throughout the "Dream Ballet" sequence of "Oklahoma!", though she opted more for modern than traditional dance. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade

When the national touring production of Oklahoma! began running commercials for director Daniel Fish’s darker, grittier version, I was skeptical. While some of these more realistic reboots work for the occasional superhero movie, it’s usually a case of prioritizing style over quality. Furthermore, the world is just about to wrap up year two of the COVID-19 pandemic, so does a darker version of one of the most joyous and beloved musicals of all time really add anything to cultural conversation at this very moment? A Tony win for best musical revival in 2019 indicates that critics seem to think so. But what about audiences, especially in the state that lends the musical its name?

Whatever doubts some may have about making any changes to Rodgers and Hammerstein’s original material, the people of Oklahoma apparently were at least willing to give it a chance. Opening night was a typical January night—the winds sweeping down the plains may have been sweet, but they were also very cold—and a Tuesday at that. But Civic Center Music Hall in Oklahoma City was packed with eager viewers willing to don masks and present their vaccine cards for entry.

Once inside the lobby, attentive ticketholders might have gotten their first hint (assuming they hadn’t seen the commercials) that this Oklahoma! would be a little different. Along the way to their seats, patrons passed by signs that warned “This performance contains: fog, loud gunshots, moments of darkness, violence.”

Ado Annie (Sis) often throws Will Parker (Hennessy Winkler) for a loop emotionally, but in this case she actually throws him around for one of the musical's funniest moments. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade

The stage already was set as folks started to take their seats. Foil garlands hanging overhead, half a dozen long, white wooden tables, racks of rifles on the walls, and a faraway shot of a farmhouse in the background: While the simple set design lacked grandiosity, it did lend the whole affair the feeling of a small-town barn dance. Cast members took their places in wooden folding chairs, and the small band behind them readied their instruments. The lights were still up, and there were no curtains to raise either. So, when Curly McLain—played by Sean Grandillo—sang out “There’s a bright golden haze on the meadow” from the back of the stage, it was a bit of a surprise. But that only lasted a split second. I’m not sure exactly how audience members reacted when the musical originally premiered on March 31, 1943, but it would be hard to top the joy emanating from this crowd.

Much has been said of Daniel Fish’s updates to the original Rodgers and Hammerstein production, but the story and dialogue remain virtually unchanged. Curly still pines after Laurey Wiliams—played by Oklahoma City University graduate Sasha Hutchings—as she waits impatiently for him to come right out and say he loves her. Ado Annie—Sis—still can’t decide between Will Parker—Hennessy Winkler—and Ali Hakim—Benj Mirman. And pore Jud Fry—Christopher Bannow—pines after Laurey too, much to Curly’s frustration. This version eventually wades into the depths, but it keeps much of the humor—and all of the fanstically sing-alongable songs—of the original.

Where Fish’s version does differ, however, is by hitting the high and low notes on the full scale of human emotion. The original covered hope, joy, love, and lust, but it sort of glazed over the ickier parts. Fish and his adept cast enthusiastically dive into the depths of heartbreak, jealousy, and betrayal, making it a more well-rounded experience. When Curly sings to convince Jud to kill himself, the two men sit next to each other on a darkened stage, the only light from the camera shining on Jud’s face. When Jud smiles at the thought of killing himself and so many people coming to his funeral, it’s shattering. After the camera shifts to Curly and we see the meanness in his face and his words, it calls into question whether he deserves Laurey, or if he’s even the protagonist at all.

The intimacy with which Curly (Sean Grandillo) sings to Jud (Christopher Bannow) about how happy his suicide would make the town makes the song even more heartbreaking. Photo by Matthew Murphy and Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade

But all of Fish’s changes aren’t so melancholy. Sis, the trans actress who portrays Ado Annie, absolutely electrifies the room with her barnstorming version of “Cain’t Say No.” Rather than a tongue-in-cheek apology, Sis revels in her freedom and her womanhood, and steals the show in the process. Fish also cut the five (FIVE!) dream ballet sequences down to one and opted for a more visceral experience. Hutchings deftly used every inch of the stage, throwing her body to and fro to express Laurey’s inner tumult. Fog machines, intense green and orange lights pointed directly at the audience, and booming audio made sure everyone seated in the Civic Center felt disquieted as well.

Most upsetting, however, was the ending. The audience was rapturous as the first refrains of the title song began, clapping and fighting the urge (for the most part) to sing along. But then, as Curly and Laurey still don their wedding whites, Jud shows up with an ominous gift. When Curly removes a pistol from the wooden box, he’s slightly confused, but Jud cocks the gun for him and aims it at himself. There’s a loud pop, blood spray covers the newlyweds’ faces, and Jud falls down dead. A sham trial follows. Curly is acquitted, but it’s clear that he and Laurey are not going to be just fine. As the cast finishes their song to the land we belong to, their faces aren’t filled with triumphant hope for a beautiful Oklahoma future.

This isn’t exactly the Oklahoma! most people grew up loving. It’s ugly at times. But so is the human experience. All of those terrible feelings, all that meanness had always been there. Fish and his team shined a light on it rather than letting it fester in the background. As a people, we’re learning more and more every day that the easy way out is an illusion. Facing our demons is the only way to defeat them. We’re doing fine, Oklahoma!, but we should always strive to be better—for our environment, for our animals, for our poor, and for each other. OK?

There are four performances of Oklahoma! left: Friday, January 28 at 8 p.m., Saturday, January 29 at 2 p.m. and 8 p.m., and Sunday, January 30 at 1:30 p.m. Go to okcbroadway.com/Oklahoma to purchase tickets.

Written By

Karlie Ybarra

Managing editor Karlie Ybarra loves to explore her home state—and meet many of its animal citizens—any chance she gets.