A Splendid New 'South Pacific'

More than the golden-hazed meadows of Oklahoma, more than the all-too-alive hills of Austria, more than even the gilded palaces of Siam, the equatorial islands immortalized by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II in "South Pacific" pulse with beguiling — and potentially destabilizing — allure.

Death may hover on the periphery: The Pulitzer Prize-winning musical is, after all, set during World War II, which had ended just four years before its 1949 premiere. But the James Michener short stories that spawned the musical lend themselves to a glut of overripe exoticism.

The challenge is to prevent the setting and that heavenly score, rivaled only by "Carousel" within the R&H canon, from succumbing to picture-postcard loveliness at the cost of dramatic tension. Director Bartlett Sher has risen to the challenge, crafting a crisp, sumptuous, unabashedly emotional revival that finds an almost perfect balance between severity and opulence. It is the finest Rodgers and Hammerstein revival since Nicholas Hytner's epochal "Carousel" of 1994 — which may be the finest musical revival to reach Broadway during that time — and it is a tonic for anyone seeking the glories of modern-day stagecraft employed in the service of musical-theater greatness. Mr. Sher is seemingly incapable of creating a stage picture that is imprecise or unattractive. He has run Seattle's Intiman Theatre for eight years; both it and the Vivian Beaumont are thrust stages, with the audience seated on three sides. This configuration generates confusion for many directors, but has spurred Mr. Sher into a seemingly endless series of ingenious solutions.

And just as his abundantly charismatic stars, Paulo Szot and the wonderful Kelli O'Hara, each show an acute sensitivity to dynamics as the conflicted lovers Emile de Becque and Nellie Forbush, Mr. Sher finds room for emotions of all shapes and sizes, folding everything from chaotic burlesque to piercing naturalism within Michael Yeargan's inviting sets (lit beautifully by Donald Holder). He may have a 30-piece orchestra at his disposal — one he shows off to deservedly ostentatious effect in the triumphant opening moments — but he also knows the strength of silence.

Nellie, however, has a hard time keeping quiet. When she's not rehearsing the Thanksgiving revue for the Construction Battalions (or Seabees) entrusted with readying the island for American combat troops, this fidgety ensign from Little Rock is cozying up to the dapper planter Emile, who moved to the island from France under murky circumstances. Her American brethren, meanwhile, are more interested in antagonizing the wily Tonkinese trader Bloody Mary (a richly comic Loretta Ables Sayre) than in doing much work. It takes the arrival of a gung-ho Marine, Lt. James Cable (Matthew Morrison), to embroil Emile, Nellie, himself, Bloody Mary, and her lissome daughter Liat (Li Jun Li) into a series of complications generated both by the predictable tragedies of war and by the deeper, thornier tendrils of racism.

Hammerstein and his co-librettist Joshua Logan hit the ground running, opening the play several weeks into the fledgling romance between the cockeyed optimist Nellie and her enchanting stranger. These two would have little difficulty spotting each other across a crowded continent, let alone room: With one decidedly unsuave gasp of relief from Emile, Mr. Sher grounds the stately but nonetheless vibrant chemistry between Mr. Szot and Ms. O'Hara. The Brazilian-born Mr. Szot, a rising opera star, is the genuine article, with Continental flair, acting chops sufficient to the role, and a plush baritone that fills every corner of the theater, most memorably in the sorely underrated "This Nearly Was Mine." And Ms. O'Hara, as she did in "The Pajama Game" and "Sweet Smell of Success," manages to pinpoint the timeless qualities of her character without sacrificing fidelity to the period in question. Songs such as "A Wonderful Guy" still resonate with chiming optimism, but with the exception of a girlish (and quite charming) "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair," her Nellie operates in a smaller, subtler, more grownup space than many of Rodgers and Hammerstein's heroines. It is, in its quiet way, an astonishing performance.

Mr. Morrison's pop-inflected tenor mars Cable's material, and his military bravado has an unwelcome touch of playacting. (Mr. Sher also slightly underplays the taboo allure of Bali H'ai, the neighboring island where Cable and Liat meet.) Among his fellow soldiers, though, Danny Burstein's Luther Billis is as irresistibly goofball as Sean Cullen's Harbison is sturdy and reliable.

"Sturdy and reliable," in fact, is as good a phrase as any to describe this flash-free but remarkably potent production. Mr. Sher may provide plenty to look at and listen to, but his highest achievement is to make "South Pacific," just one year shy of its 50th birthday, feel younger than springtime — and every bit as welcome.

Until June 22 (150 W. 65th St., 212-239-6200).