Nothing is going to change the fact that Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II’s Carousel is unrelentingly sentimental, occasionally maudlin and even at times corny. But when you futz around too much with this gloriously melodic 73-year-old musical drama, you are asking for trouble. In what turns out to be a misbegotten re-envisioning of it directed by Jack O’Brien and choreographed by Justin Peck, the classic musical fails almost irretrievably in its effort to be either an uplifting or wonderfully romantic experience. As originally adapted from Molnar’s tragically themed Liliom, Carousel may still be an old fashioned tearjerker. But, it is forever exalted by some of the most gorgeous melodies ever composed for the American musical theater. The disappointments begin early with the show beginning in a starry galaxy far away—actually a back door to heaven where a platoon of gate-keepers in grey work-outfits hold sway and swing under the supervision of their head honcho/Starkeeper (John Douglas Thompson). The Starkeeper appears periodically during the show to shadow the restless carnival barker Billy Bigelow (Joshua Henry) as he goes about his belligerently motivated, ill-fated earthly capers. Henry, who won Tony nominations for his performances in Violet and The Scottsboro Boys, is a fine African-American actor with a splendid voice but don’t expect to see more than a perpetually steely meanness expressed or exposed in his portrayal. What disappointed me most about seeing his Billy Bigelow is that he remains characterized without a single visible redeeming trait. I have seen aspects of Billy’s seriously flawed character given more dimension in countless other productions. Most regrettably, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the famous Soliloquy reduced to only one emotional level. Even more seriously remiss about this production is the expected physical chemistry that draws Julie (Jessie Mueller) to him and him to her. Mueller, who won awards and accolades for her performances in Waitress and Beautiful seems stymied by a role that simply asks her to fall in love for no discernible reason. It can be done. Then we have to consider the consequences of a stultifying romance in which the recklessly-in-love Julie becomes more than a wimp and a physically abused wife without a spine. Sorely missed is seeing Julie grow from an innocent, infatuated young girl into a woman strengthened but never hardened by tragedy. If the show’s constantly reiterated theme — you always hurt the one you love — is ever present, be assured there is no expectation of anything beyond that even in the well-sung duet “If I Loved You.” And don’t expect to see that famed carousel appear, although an approximation in part is created by set designer Santo Loquasto. Loquasto did create ample approximations of the show’s New England seaside setting as did costume designer Ann Roth with her period fashions. Director Jack O’Brien pushes to infuse the musical with moments of joy, but they seem like artificial implants. This is a story that should make us smile through our tears, not grit our teeth. Unlike other revivals, a feeling of perfunctory theatrics overshadow what is essentially a delicate fantasy. In contrast, a-belting-we-will-go Lindsay Mendez is an over-the-top New England catch as Julie’s friend Carrie, One could almost believe that “fish is my favorite perfume” when she sings about her intended “Mr. Snow.” The resounding voice of Alexander Gemignani as the stuffy Enoch Snow helps us remember what a charming if understandably neglected tune is “When the Children are Asleep.” Opera diva Renee Fleming puts her wind in the sails for “You’ll Never Walk Alone.” The best characterization comes from Margaret Colin as the lusty carnival owner Mrs. Mullin. An abundance of robust dancing, as choreographed by Justin Peck, filled overly-extended ballet sequences most of which appeared more as self-serving showcases rather than rising organically out of the story (as had been originally conceived by the great Agnes DeMille). Where is Carousel without interpretive integrity or emotional honesty? But like the song says, “What’s the Use of Wond’rin?”
