‘My Fair Lady’ is far more than fair
The theme of the show may be a bit outdated, but the musical is still able to entrance
George Bernard Shaw once said that Brits and Americans are two great peoples divided by a common tongue. In Lincoln Center Theater’s touring production of “My Fair Lady,” playing at the Hobby Center through Sept. 19, a similar gulf cleaves perpetually exasperated linguist Henry Higgins and his earthy, ambitious would-be protégé, flower girl Eliza Doolittle.
Directed by Bartlett Sher (“South Pacific,” “To Kill a Mockingbird”), this lavish revival of Lerner and Loewe’s beloved musical, which opened on Broadway in 2018, combines clever stagecraft, hearty musical numbers and spirited performances to deliver a thoroughly entertaining experience. But it’s the crackling banter between Shereen Ahmed’s Eliza and Laird Mackintosh’s Higgins that raises issues of respect and equality that have hardly faded in the 65 years since “My Fair Lady” first appeared.
From bustling opening number “Why Can’t the English?” onward, Higgins is all bluster and condescension; his rapid-fire speech and frenetic pacing betrays an utter lack of patience. He literally trips over Eliza outside London’s Royal Albert Hall one 1912 evening and unexpectedly meets a worthy sparring partner, uncouth yet totally unimpressed by his professorial airs. She’s forthright and charming, twirling easily
among the dustmen and cab drivers of her gritty milieu in “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly?”
In shades of “Trading Places,” Higgins bets friend and fellow “confirmed bachelor” Colonel Pickering (a jovial Kevin Pariseau) that he can turn her into a “lady” by the Embassy Ball six months hence. Eliza begrudgingly obliges, determined to open her own shop someday. Meanwhile, her ne’er-do-well father, Alfred (Adam Grupper), gets wind of the arrangement and, sensing an angle, has some choice words for Higgins: he’ll take Eliza off his hands for 5 pounds. (But not 50; a man’s got to have some scruples, after all.)
In some respects, “My Fair Lady” remains a product of its time, both Edwardian London and the 1950s. Higgins refers to Eliza as “baggage” and “a creature” without reservation; numbers such as “A Hymn to Him” — in which Higgins wonders “why can’t a woman be more like a man?”, among other cringeworthy sentiments — can’t help but land a little awkwardly in 2021.
Another telling example comes when Higgins and Pickering return from the ball and animatedly recap the evening while barely acknowledging Eliza, who, of course, was a hit but here all but melts into the wallpaper. It’s as uncomfortable to watch as it is cathartic when she blows up at Higgins later when the two are alone.
In any case, Sher scatters plenty of hints where the musical’s sympathies truly lie: a brief reprise of “With a Little Bit of Luck” features a trio of suffragettes shouting “Our bodies, our choice.” Wednesday’s crowd didn’t hesitate to applaud.
But this is also a broad comedy of manners, unafraid to milk funny accents for laughs. Eliza’s Cockney brogue is thick as a London particular and a source of much amusement during the derby scene, which also shows off Catherine Zuber’s stellar costume design. The revolving set of Higgins’ apartment, put to use in several numbers, makes a nifty bit of stagecraft.
And the earworms just keep coming, especially Ahmed’s luxuriant “I Could Have Danced All Night” and “Get Me to the Church on Time,” Grupper’s comedic showstopper that climaxes in burlesque dancers and a chorus line. As Eliza’s prospective suitor Freddy, Sam Simahk applies his gorgeous tenor to “On the Street Where You Live,” even as it feels a bit grafted onto the rest of the story. In her brief time onstage, Mary Callanan as Mrs. Higgins, Henry’s mother, expertly pushes her son’s buttons and takes quite a shine to Eliza.
That said, it’s Eliza and Higgins’ prickly, funny and oddly touching relationship that drives the action from beginning to end. Laird’s dawning bewilderment as he realizes the effect his attitude and actions have on Eliza is as impressive as Ahmed’s steadily growing resolve as Eliza begins rising in the world. The gradual process through which Henry reveals himself to be a true fool parallels Eliza’s convoluted journey to her own self-respect.
Their final scene suggests that, despite everything, something like real affection has taken root between the two. But that’s as far as it goes. What she does after Higgins’ classic closing line — “Eliza, where the devil are my slippers?” — leaves no doubt whatsoever that she’s nobody’s “baggage.”