New Musical in Manhattan

South Pacific (music by Richard Rodgers; lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein 2nd; book adapted from James A. Michener's Tales of the South Pacific by Mr. Hammerstein & Joshua Logan; produced by the Messrs. Rodgers & Hammerstein in association with Leland Hayward & Mr. Logan) opened to an advance sale of $500,000 and the kind of notices ("utterly captivating"—"truly great") that should keep it on Broadway for years. As an all-star production, it almost merits such notices. As a show, it does not.

Loosely spun out of James Michener's Pulitzer-Prizewinning war yarns, South Pacific is not a musicomedy; it is a "musical play" in which story moves on equal terms with song, while dancing is shunned and spectacle virtually banished. Story means, for the most part, a romance between "Knucklehead Nellie" (Mary Martin), an appealing Navy nurse from Little Rock, Ark., and a middle-aged Pacific-island French planter (Ezio Pinza). The nurse loves the planter but almost loses him, first to her Southern prejudices when she finds he has lived openly with a native woman and sired two children, then to the hazards of war. There is a similar but sadder subplot in which Boy Meets Native Girl and breaks her heart. In calculated contrast to such solemn romancing are the rowdy antics and loutish amateur theatricals of assorted Seabees and Marines.

South Pacific gets a magnificently effective production. Joshua Logan has staged and stepped up the proceedings with nimble skill, while the Jo Mielziner sets never jam the flow. As the little knucklehead, Mary Martin gives the performance of her career. She merges a gift for comedy with a delightful personality; she sings well, and turns out ballads even better. As the planter, Metropolitan Opera Basso Pinza proves himself an excellent Broadway performer. He has, beyond that, the kind of voice that show business is lucky enough to acquire once or twice in a generation. The whole supporting cast is good, particularly Myron McCormick as an unregimented Seabee.

In quality, the show is by no means up to the production. But it is surefire popular stuff, filled with surefire popular stuffing. Hammerstein & Logan have contrived a shrewd mixture of tear-jerking and rib-tickling, of sugar & spice and everything twice. Their musical play is far superior to the usual libretto nonsense; it is quite the equal, in fact, of the usual movie yarn. To all those for whom the plot's the thing, for whom heartbeats are more important than dance steps, South Pacific will seem—as it may well be—a perfect union of film and footlights. For others, a musical play will have to rank a bit higher as drama than South Pacific, if the loss in dancing, décor, and musicomedy's festal airs is not to smack of larceny.

South Pacific has genuine story value, but it is not the integrated work that Rodgers & Hammerstein's Carousel was. In South Pacific, Rodgers' music provides only a score, not a scaffolding. The score has its very decided merits: there are the bang and the brio of I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outa My Hair and I'm in Love With a Wonderful Guy; there is Some Enchanted Evening, a fit consort for Oklahoma!'s beautiful morning. All in all, however, Rodgers' fine talent seemed far more individual in the days when his musical shows had crunchy centers rather than gooey ones.