Group shower scene, naked rear-ends and topless action!

No, I'm not talking about my weekend dalliances, but the current (first!) Broadway revival of South Pacific. Prudes take note, the title above is a bit of an exaggeration. It's the same classic tuner but re-envisioned with a 2008 sensibility that emphasizes a naturalistic acting/directorial style. I don’t know if it’s depressing or exciting (or maybe both?) that the three best directed and emotionally fulfilling Broadway shows I’ve seen this season are revivals. The triumvirate consists of Broadway’s heaviest hitters, Sunday in the Park with George (Sondheim/Lapine), Gypsy (Styne/Sondheim/Laurents) and now South Pacific (Rodgers/Hammerstein). The Lincoln Center revival proves that sometimes, at least when it come to theater (and steak), bigger is better. There’s a full 30 piece orchestra (there’s a friggin’ harp in the pit!) in tuxes playing the original orchestrations with a cast of 40!! Thank God for non-profit theater. A show of this magnitude could simply not be produced commercially on Broadway without charging $1,000 a seat (which we seem to be slowly approaching anyway).

Overall a visually stunning physical production with airplanes, trucks, sand dunes and even a full-sized palm tree sprouting from the stage. The lighting is gorgeous, especially on the sky/Bali H’ai backdrop, as are the costumes (“Fierce!” as Chris Siriano would say). And über-dreamy Paulo Szot actually proves that white canvas shoes, neckerchiefs and open-toed sandals can be masculine (he’s doubly “fierce”). Hearing a full orchestra play a classic overture (I have to give props to the current Gypsy revival here, too) just emphasizes how blandly generic and pitifully underpowered the scores and orchestrations emanating from Broadway pits have been over the past decade. Add the "every-song's-a-hit" score to the mix and a book that confronts racism and war head-on, ("But what are you for?" Emil asks in reply to Captain Bracket's statement, "We're against the Japs." - eerily resonant in light of America's current Iraq debacle) and you have the makings of a true Broadway anomaly: a spectacle that also carries a political viewpoint without clubbing you over the head with it.

Politics aside, the show is also gorgeously sung (another Broadway anomaly), the weak link being Loretta Ables Sayre. Though beautifully acted, her "Bali H'ai" lacked vocal heft. Her "Happy Talk" became a heartbreaking act of desperation thanks to director Bartlett Sher's decision to play against the obvious "funny talking natives" caricature. Throughout, Sher's decision to continually seek a more truthful and less presentational route gives this revival a definite edge without becoming too "dark." The chemistry between Szot and Kelli O'Hara's Nellie was palpable and can only continue to grow through previews. With O'Hara, we finally get a legit sounding Nellie without sounding operatic. So likable and endearing, you actually feel sympathy for her when she wrestles with her racial demons. Some minor quibbles - Matthew Morrison's Cable is well acted but I would have liked to hear a bigger tenor voice fill out those high "G"'s (even if it meant giving up the six-pack on display during "Younger Than Springtime") and there were some truly weird "homo" moments in the sailors' opening dancing and staging in Act I. I'm all for beefcake and male camaraderie, but it even made me a little uncomfortable.