If you remember from my review of The Sound of Music, I find it one of the most beautiful musicals and films that Rodgers and Hammerstein ever created together. Yet, little did I know that it was based on a real-life event, and the musical tweaked around with some elements of the story so it would’ve worked as well as it did as a musical.
Well, there’s another thing I should bring to your attention. While the tweaking worked to the musical’s advantage in The Sound of Music, it proved to be a more controversial case when looking at one of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s other smash hit musicals, The King and I. Based on the musical that premiered in 1951 and chronicling the events that transpired between British scholar Anna Leonowens and King Mongkut of Siam (now called Thailand), it nonetheless proved itself splendorous as a musical and a film, as well as a buzzworthy take on one of the earliest and most famous international relations ever.
In 1862, Anna and her son, Louis, headed off to Siam by ship as Anna was offered a position as the royal governess to King Mongkut’s children, who were plentiful since Mongkut had many wives. Anna didn’t think highly of King Mongkut at first, for she thought of him as too stubborn and high-and-mighty to listen to reason, and their different beliefs caused them to fiercely debate on occasion. However, as they spent more time together, they slowly realized they had feelings for each other. But while Anna’s fellow British affiliates, including her old friend, Edward, saw this alliance as a possible advantage, others looked at this with concern, mostly Kralahome, Mongkut’s trusted assistant and Prime Minister of Siam.
But that’s not all that went on. On the side, one of King Mongkut’s newest additions to the palace – a young Burmese woman named Tuptim who was sent to him as a concubine – had a romantic yearning for her deliverer, Lun Tha. They tried getting together in secret since they knew the King would not have approved of this. Would there only have been so long they could keep this up before the beans were to be spilled?
And with all the dilemmas brewing about, not to mention some of the cultural barriers standing in their way, what’s to become of Anna’s influence on the King of Siam, his children, and the borderline relationship that was starting to develop between them?
The first time I saw snippets of this film, I saw them on The Sound of Music videocassette, which I still have. I remember it seeming like a lavish film with massive set designs, gorgeous costumes, stunning and surprisingly ahead-of-its-time casting, and a slew of iconic musical numbers. It wasn’t until I got older, presumably around the time I was in middle school, when I finally saw this film from beginning to end, and only then did I look at it closely and assess what I thought of the film itself.
And where do my thoughts lie with The King and I?
First, I was amazed by what kind of casting this movie could’ve mustered. It wasn’t just with the likes of Deborah Kerr and Yul Brynner – though I’ll talk about them soon – but also with the Thai natives. This film came out in 1956, and Asian representation was few and far between amid the more commonplace and stereotypical portrayals of such people back then. I can’t tell whether the supporting actors and actresses of The King and I were all specifically Thai or if they all varied in Asian ethnicities. Still, their contributions to this musical film helped add a sense of authenticity to the piece and make it feel more natural. It even helped add to the sense that Deborah Kerr, Yul Brynner, the others, and even the audience watching it were transported to Siam itself and became assimilated into its customs and culture, especially Anna Leonowens, who documented her adventures there in her autobiographies, The English Governess at the Siamese Court and Romance in the Harem.
Now, I’ll save this section of the story for when I confront its connections so that you can grasp and understand it.
Though the portrayals did have some varying levels of credibility, authenticity, and proper representation, the general feel and atmosphere of Siam were enough to leave you feeling like you were walking right alongside Anna to witness something that felt massive, beautiful, exotic, rich in tradition, and utterly unlike anything you’ve been surrounded with in your entire life. Part of that may be in thanks to the set designers, who established the palace and the living quarters with such regal air that…well, how could it not feel like something out of Siam? Even the jungles, town, and lakes surrounding King Mongkut’s palace, as briefly as they were shown, all carried a certain vibe that honed the general Thai feel, like you just stepped inside a whole ‘nother world that was mystifying in every corner.
Also sporting the generally authentic feel, once again, are the costumes. Whether they be the typical British attire worn by Anna, Louis, and their affiliates, or especially those worn by King Mongkut, his wives, and their children, their sense of clothing helped match the type of personalities you’d expect to see either conversing in a typical way, or, at worst, butting heads with each other over differing beliefs. And when King Mongkut strutted about or spoke with Anna over compelling, confusing, or astounding matters, whatever he’s dressed in, whether casually or for any glorious occasion, it would still clue you into how he ruled over an entire nation.
Plus, Anna’s dresses were not too shabby, either. Whether she sported her British socialite attire, her schoolteacher attire, or her elegantly puffed dress as she prepared for the British elites’ arrival and acquaintances with the King, her costumes demonstrated the title she possessed and carried with her from Great Britain, all while expressing shades of differing clothing styles that contrasted from those of King Mongkut and his associates. For instance, when Anna stepped out in her dress to see the King and his wives before her British friends arrived, he was slightly taken aback by how her dress exposed her bare shoulders. Again, what I admire about the costuming throughout this movie, notwithstanding their flashiness and extravagance, is how much of a role they played in cluing us into the general characterizations of the characters throughout the picture.
One of the funniest scenes in the film was when Anna tried to prepare King Mongkut’s wives for the British elites’ arrival with dresses like Anna’s for the occasion. But after putting on their dresses, and as they bowed down before the King as he arrived, Anna was flabbergasted by their lack of undergarments as their skirts rose, meaning they were half naked underneath their dresses.
But now, let’s shift our attention to the characters.
First, let’s start with the Romeo and Juliet-like couple, Tuptim and Lun Tha. Tuptim felt like her life was too constrained by that of King Mongkut and wanted to feel obliged to make her own choice as to who she’d prefer for a husband, especially after reading Anna’s copy of Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe. Meanwhile, Lun Tha, who delivered her to the King, also had his eyes set on her and wanted to make his moves for her despite her having already been promised to King Mongkut, as were the other ladies who felt lucky to call themselves wives of King Mongkut.
The Siamese Prime Minister and King Mongkut’s chief assistant, Kralahome, also intrigued me. He did not get as much screen time as his role would’ve led me to anticipate, but the impression he left was still noticeable. Kralahome was stingy but also was 100% devoted to the King, especially since he had known his father before he passed on. He was also so well devoted that he suspected Anna of possibly being up to no good, such as, say, knocking any kingship out of King Mongkut after arriving as a foreigner in a strange land. His cold stare and cheerless disposition would easily have made him look like a bad guy, but they convinced me he took his role very seriously and expressed his devotion to the throne and whichever King sat there.
King Mongkut’s first wife, Lady Thiang, did not play a significant role in the film. However, her position among King Mongkut’s wives still felt intriguing: she was the first of his wives and, therefore, knew him longer and more profoundly than arguably anyone else in the palace. As a result, she often arrived as the go-to person whenever King Mongkut had to update Anna on something or whenever Anna asked her to speak reason to him on her behalf. This background somehow made her feel even more mysterious as far as King Mongkut was concerned.
And finally, we have the two main characters to address.
Anna Leonowens felt like a prestigious, articulate, sophisticated lady with a dash of class to her as she strutted throughout the then-unknown regions of Siam to encourage international relations with the nation by teaching the King’s children about the rest of the world around them, even if the entire teaching experience was looked at with initial disbelief, especially by King Mongkut. For example, the likelihood of water turning solid and becoming ice, or the idea of there being snow, was scoffed at by Anna’s students, specifically when they asked her about the country of Norway. But even then, I took it as them not being familiar with ice or snow since they lived in a much warmer climate anyway.
As for Anna, she did express a slight stuffiness to her, like she was firm in her beliefs of what Anna was taught throughout her youth and especially back in England, as she demonstrated with such conventional lessons as what he planned to teach the King’s children. However, when it concerned other matters, like religious differences, national beliefs, and class executions, she and the King of Siam developed gradually complicated dynamics. Even when it concerned matters that seemed morally questionable, Anna tried to settle whatever matters she confronted with her affiliates in a firm but discriminating manner.
There was also one instance where Anna was expected to be stationed in a house adjacent to the palace when the King suddenly suggested that she rest within the palace. It put her in a bad mood because she expected to undergo procedures precisely as she and the King agreed upon. But if Anna had been notified about where she was to live from her letter from the King, wouldn’t she have had the letter on her so she could show it to him as proof? But she didn’t, and this convinced me that she was willing to use her wits and wills to try to get even with the King, which only adds to her stubbornness, in my opinion.
Although I didn’t understand what she was so confused or frustrated about outside of her not being notified about it in advance. If you ask me, this almost feels like a promotion. Going from resting in quarters adjacent to the palace to being asked to rest within the palace almost feels like a massive upgrade.
But I digress.
As for King Mongkut, he, too, was quite committed to his customary beliefs concerning Thai ethics, for this was handed off to him before he ascended to the throne as the King of Siam after his father passed it on to him. But just like how Anna walked into someplace where the customs and ethics were entirely unlike what she was raised on, so too was King Mongkut unaware of all the customs and ethics that sailed and walked right into his doorstep once he called for a tutor to help his children, especially since he planned to prepare his son, Prince Chulalongkorn, for knowledge of the outside world. In past generations, his family line was more exclusive and pertained to the proper religious practices of Siam alone. This time, with Anna coming to teach his kids about what the British saw of the world they lived on, this would’ve tested him to see if he was ready for the expansion of his knowledge as much as his children could’ve been. Even if he was too stubborn and stuffy in his opinions concerning different ideals, I can tell that he was struggling through an unfamiliar wave of representations that he never anticipated and was brought about by this union.
Now, I want to discuss the next major milestone this movie achieved: the acting.
Deborah Kerr felt downright cultured as Anna Leonowens, for she captured her sense of high knowledge and high-ranking status. Her taste in British customs, educational methods, and firm convictions all helped add to the simultaneous sternness and tenderness of a lady who came from a world she was most familiar with and tried to comprehend a world in which she was completely unfamiliar. While her snootiness might be a turn-off to other people, whenever Anna started opening up about the plights of her new cohorts, Kerr still demonstrated what an intrigued lady Anna turned out to have been whenever she wasn’t busy teaching her studies to the King’s children. And whenever Kerr correlated with you-know-who, her firm convictions and expressions of such emotions put her in a position where she managed to hold her own, independently or in his company. That’s how well she pulled out all the stops as Anna Leonowens.
The actors playing the Romeo-and-Juliet-like couple, Rita Moreno as Tuptim and Carlos Rivas as Lun Tha, conveyed their roles with tenderness. Even if it wasn’t enough to make them consistently noteworthy, they nonetheless conveyed enough humanity to make them sympathetic, despite their focus being sidelined compared to Anna and King Mongkut.
I am also amazed by Rita Moreno’s acting on her own as Tuptim. She played her with such elegance that she made me see where she was coming from because of her condition as a Burmese concubine. Without even expressing it, I felt her frustrations over her condition and that she wanted nothing more than to be reunited with her lover.
The more I think about it, the idea of Tuptim, a Burmese woman brought over to the King of Siam as a concubine, makes me wonder if perhaps, unlike the real-life King Mongkut, who’s said to be a wise and noble king with progressive ideas, this movie’s version of King Mongkut also had progressive ideas yet was more stubborn about what he believed to be the truth. And yes, I understand it might be a problematic portrayal of who’s been described as one of the best kings ever. But again, as I said, this movie mainly highlighted the trials and tribulations of the alliances between Anna Leonowens and King Mongkut as they tried to achieve some semblance of common ground between supposedly opposite nations.
I’m also amazed by Rita Moreno’s performance because it was one of her earliest known roles before she made a splash as Anita in West Side Story, not to mention as Valentina in the new West Side Story. So, this was an excellent role with which to jumpstart her career.
But the crowning achievement in this picture, fittingly enough, is Yul Brynner as King Mongkut. As the primary actor who reprised his role in the movie from the original musical, he displayed his pride, stubbornness, and every subtlety apparent from King Mongkut during his more trying contemplations of whatever he faced. He also owned his boastfulness and arrogance as he tried to maintain what he believed was valid according to Thai culture with Anna during his conversations and sometimes arguments with her. Yet, underneath all his showiness and extravagance, Brynner’s mannerisms helped Mongkut convey some twinges of confusion and a complex personality to him. It’s as if, for all his pride as a king and his supposed knowledge of everything he accumulated from Thai culture, deep down, there were some things Mongkut was confused about or even at war with himself about, whether they pertained to what he grew up believing under Thai culture, or how he even felt about Anna and the lessons and cultural practices she brought with her.
His strive and positioning also demonstrated his position in power even when he wasn’t speaking; I can tell from his zeal and flair how much of a King of Siam he was.
It seems obvious how often Brynner played his role on Broadway and perfected it along the way. He unleashed everything he mastered about his performance as the King of Siam from back on stage throughout this picture without fail. And even though the characterization might be problematic, his performance was anything but. Brynner still made the King of Siam, despite it being a different interpretation, feel and come alive with the many different inflections that Brynner expressed about Mongkut as he went about his business on his own, as the King, or with Anna.
All the other supporting actors did an excellent job with their roles, including Martin Benson as Kralahome, Rex Thompson as Louis Leonowens, the actors playing the British socialites who joined Anna upon her trip to Siam, and especially all the Asian actors and actresses who played in this film, including those who played Mongkut’s wives.
This leaves us with two significant topics concerning this film to discuss.
The first, of course, is the music and songs by Rodgers and Hammerstein.
‘I Whistle a Happy Tune,’ the first song in the picture, is a quaint and mellow song about the benefits of whistling a quick tune as a stress reliever, especially when confronting people or forces that are beyond your understanding or, at the very least, slightly intimidating. The way they demonstrated it came across as a decent method to keep a straight face when you’re preparing to lunge into something unfamiliar with the guarantee that your confidence in approaching them head-on would have paid off. I will admit, though, that every time I saw Anna and Louis Leonowens put it into practice, I thought that maybe a simple "how do you do" would suffice, too.
‘Something Wonderful’ conveyed so much meaning underneath its simplistic melodies and lyrics. Sung by Lady Thiang to Anna as she started doubting the King’s trustworthiness, Thiang told Anna about the King’s noble qualities despite his stubborn instincts and seemingly uncooperative methods of exercising his position. In fact, the song could probably be extended to the movie itself. It gives a very uneven demonstration of King Mongkut’s accomplishments and capabilities as the King of Siam, but it also demonstrates how he tried his absolute hardest to prove himself as a good king of Siam. As we picked up from history, it shows that, yes, he was a good king of Siam, and that even if he thought that you are supposed to learn everything you need to know before becoming the next King, that doesn’t mean you stop there, and there’s always so much more you can pick up on even while sitting on the throne.
What I find most intriguing about King Mongkut’s song, ‘A Puzzlement,’ is that it shows his inner dilemmas concerning all the different things he was raised to learn about Thai culture, as well as the rest of the world on which he lived; it’s simply an inner monologue by the King all set to song. It is fun to hear, but it’s also fascinating to read or listen to as the King sang his thoughts out loud over what he and the rest of his people tried to understand. This song touched on that kind of confusion in a way that never undermined the King’s personality and position, and it felt very welcomed.
Though it is a little slow, ‘Hello, Young Lovers’ does seem like an admirable song as Anna reflected on the times she spent with her husband, Tom, before he died and how she hoped that what she experienced with Tom, many other couples out there would have had as similar an opportunity. While this song does work in exploring Anna’s acquaintances with her deceased husband, I’m also impressed with what Deborah Kerr unleashed as she performed it; she unveiled some pure singing strengths as she sank into Anna’s trip through memory lane.
This is an instrumental score rather than a song, but ‘March of the Siamese Children’ placed me in the right mood to admire the more casual, proud, and contented essences prevalent in what’s being exposed. Only it all came with a very regal and exotic flavoring to it. It strutted along as each of King Mongkut’s children introduced themselves, bowed before Anna one by one, and gathered together before their father, the King.
But for all their musical prowess and intrigue, I consider three of its songs the best to have ever come from this musical. Let’s shift our attention to the first two.
‘Getting to Know You,’ the song sung between Anna Leonowens and her students, conveyed a more comfortable and communal essence about the values of knowing people like the Thai students as people. Anna was grateful to be in the company of her students as she got to know them more, but the song conveyed a slight hint of her intrigue in learning more about their customs and not just who they were as people. As she summed up most splendidly,
It’s a very ancient saying,
but a true and honest thought,
that if you become a teacher,
by your pupils you’ll be taught.
What I like about the song is not just its general cheerfulness but also how it touched upon what I find prevalent throughout The King and I: it’s all a simplified example of picking up on different cultural methods, not just from Anna concerning Siamese culture, but also from King Mongkut and his peoples concerning British culture. Since this teaching course was for the children to learn about the statistics of the world around them, as this was for Anna to know about the new world she stepped foot on, this song felt like a lovely method of highlighting the more unique, profound aspects of getting further acquainted with one another, and how it paints a new perspective on things, if not just for learning all there is to know about what lies beyond one’s home country.
And, of course, there’s the famous ‘Shall We Dance?’ Performed by Anna and King Mongkut as he picked up on the lessons of formal dancing from her, it is a very eloquent, simplistic, and no less jubilant musical number demonstrating the contentedness of the atmosphere and the unsaid feelings that these two had for each other. The lyrics were very clever about not specifying how much of what Anna and the King felt about each other was platonic or romantic, but even with that in mind, there’s still a sense that there’s an evident connection between them. It displayed how Anna and the King acknowledged that their friendship was on the verge of taking on a new meaning and life of its own, especially given Anna’s uncertainties about how to take this all in after the death of her first husband, Tom. The rocky chemistry Anna and Mongkut shared added some juicy dynamics for them as they danced in the ballroom, and the notes playing throughout this dance not only amped up the excitement of their progressing dancing techniques but also made the song sound more spirited along the way.
I should also point out the choreography throughout this picture by Jerome Robbins, who would also have made a splash in West Side Story. He oversaw the choreography of The King and I ever since its original stage outing, and the dancing sequences throughout this picture, especially in the numbers’ Shall we Dance?’ and ‘The Ballad of Uncle Thomas,’ are just magnificent. They added to the film’s musicality and conveyed the ballet-like qualities apparent throughout the movie, especially given that it was a theatrical production first.
However, some aspects of this film didn’t always add up.
Anna’s son, Louis, generally felt very pointless, for he showed up with her mother in the beginning as they got comfortable in Siam and at the end of the movie as they prepared to leave after a falling out between Anna and King Mongkut. But it does make me wonder whether Louis joined up with Anna when it all happened since they all went to Siam together and understood the ins and outs of how things went in King Mongkut’s palace.
Since this originated as a theatrical production, it primarily occurred within King Mongkut’s palace. But somehow, it might be me, but since this is a movie production, there’s a part of me that wished that Anna and probably her son Louis would’ve explored a little more of the Siamese culture surrounding the palace, to get a general understanding of how their country functioned compared to their country back home, or even in comparison to King Mongkut’s palace. As this came out in 1956, it would’ve been a neat opportunity to demonstrate how Thai culture works and shed light on what the Thai people thought of Mongkut.
Of course, the movie focuses mainly on the international alliance and relations between Siam and Great Britain. So, as much as I would’ve liked to see the film express more of what the people thought of King Mongkut, how they did their own thing regularly, and how much of what the King had in mind for Thailand would’ve related to what Great Britain had in mind, it nonetheless conveys a clear and compelling portrait of the complications that went down when arranging an alliance between Western and Eastern cultures.
But now, let’s shift our attention to the liable, possible elephant in the room: the artistic liberties taken with the story of Anna Leonowens and King Mongkut.
Am I going to act like I know all the ins and outs of Anna Leonowens’ and King Mongkut’s alliance? No, but it would be naive to assume that the movie does.
Among the different reactions The King and I had, one of those people who were far from accepting of any interpretation of the story from outside forces was Thailand, the home country. As I mentioned, Thailand and its citizens viewed King Mongkut as a highly regarded figure in Thai history. He was said to have been a progressive thinker, willing to broaden his horizons, and experiment with new techniques, rules, social orders, and the like that he believed would’ve helped his home country, especially when he was on the verge of achieving international negotiations with other countries from around the world, such as what he attempted to do starting in Great Britain through Anna Leonowens. As for how they believed The King and I portrayed it, they thought the many interpretations of the story through those means were in such bad taste that they banned The King and I and every other Western portrayal of the meeting between Anna Leonowens and King Mongkut. However, the ban was primarily implemented because Thailand thought these interpretations disrespected the monarch by supposedly disrespecting anyone who took high office there, like Mongkut. So, the outrage against Anna Leonowens’ recollections on her negotiations with King Mongkut is a little muddy at this point.
As I mentioned earlier, the story of King Mongkut, as Anna relayed it, is arguably the most famous and closest thing ever told of him and his regime in Siam. And because America and its other fellow nations barely had any full-scale exposure to the collective nations of the Orient back then, this was potentially an eye-opening look into the lives of King Mongkut and his influence in Siam, even if they were told from the perspective of a distinguished British socialite who was only experiencing Siam for the first time while on teaching duties.
It would be like someone writing up a document about the United States, judged purely from the perspective of those who vacationed there. They may get the general look, feel, and perhaps the customs of the location and its citizens down, but they may have missed some marks on all the rest.
But it would help if you remembered that back in the late 19th to the early 20th centuries, Anna Leonowens’ memoirs and Margaret Landon’s ‘Anna and the King of Siam’ were among the few significant documents ever written of Siam and of King Mongkut’s time as its King, and for what they unleashed at a time when it was barely accessible or able to be managed or produced easily, this was a groundbreaking step into international reports. Plus, the multiple adaptations that followed were influenced by Anna’s documentation of her experiences in Siam.
Do people complain about Seven Years in Tibet because it might not have provided the whole picture of what went on in Tibet before China took over since it was told from the point of view of an Austrian passerby? It’s likely, but probably not as often as one would think. It still unleashed a firm and understandable glimpse into the realms and ethics of an unknown yet splendorous world. The King and I, the way I see it, functions as precisely that. For the time, it was a marvelous glimpse into the customs and world of Siam during King Mongkut’s rule at a time when foreign relations were not documented or even practiced often.
In addition, it was long before books like ‘Mongkut, the King of Siam’ by Abbot Low Moffat were published in 1961, five years after the movie came out and ten years after the musical had premiered. Evidently, this would’ve provided a more in-depth look at King Mongkut for the entire reading world to learn. So, while The King and I may raise some eyebrows concerning its artistic liberties, it still offers a unique perspective on Siam and its ethics.
And that’s the key aspect of the film and its story to remember them by: the point of view.
Besides, why else would it be called ‘The King and I’? The ‘I’ in the title clues me into how it refers to Anna since the story was told as she experienced it. Now, how the secondary love story came about, I don’t know. The closest I understood of it is that it was documented in ‘Romance in the Harem,’ and even Leonowens later admitted that the stories she recounted were potentially borne out of royal gossip. Regardless, it provided an intriguing canvas into its world.
Speaking of situations, let’s look at those that even the local Thai whipped up. At one point in the movie, outside of reading Anna’s Holy Bible, King Mongkut caught on to Abraham Lincoln’s then-ongoing war against the Confederacy in the Civil War. In response, Mongkut proposed having war elephants shipped over for them to use as transportation and maybe backup weapons for his drive toward victory against the Confederacy. It seemed like a wild proposition, but at least his heart was in the right place. He even admitted beforehand that he was against the idea of slavery, which would only have added to the drama of what I’ll address very shortly.
Listening to people of different religions talking, if not debating, about the differences and which ones must be brought into focus to make international propositions manageable helps contribute to the film and story’s otherwise exotic intrigue.
But now, this leads us to the third musical number I consider a genuine highlight and the most visually stimulating of them all: ‘The Ballad of Uncle Thomas.’
It is the Siamese interpretation of the classic story Uncle Tom’s Cabin, as performed for King Mongkut and their British guests in the royal palace. The general understanding of the story is rather simplistic. Yet, it still carries forth the clear message of the vices of slavery, as well as Eliza’s heroic and brave deeds as she escaped from slavery in Kentucky and made it safely to Ohio. True, the states were mentioned as separate kingdoms within the country, but they still got the general idea. If The King and I is the story of the British and Siamese alliance as expressed from Anna Leonowens’ point of view, this whole interpretation of Uncle Tom’s Cabin from the Siamese point of view is basically the other way around, except this is their interpretation of American turmoil rather than British events. I remember watching The King and I with my college roommate once upon a time. As he pointed out, this whole number is in the same league as ‘Joseph Smith American Moses’ from ‘The Book of Mormon’; it is simply a distinct cultural expression of a classic yet foreign story with exaggerated results. Plus, this kind of staging never happened in real life, anyway, though the real-life Anna Leonowens expressed her fondness for Harriet Beecher Stowe. But that doesn’t mean this number has no effort to show for it. The costuming, choreography, musical expressions, and general portrayal of the characters in this whole recitation are all stunning and very dazzling to watch.
You know something? I’m also fond of the musical number ‘We Kiss in a Shadow,’ performed by Tuptim and Lun Tha. Because Tuptim was sold to King Mongkut as a concubine and still harbored feelings for Lun Tha, they were at a greater risk of being punished severely for going behind the King’s back and expressing their love for each other.
Let me explain how this relates to The Ballad of Uncle Thomas. By the time Tuptim narrated the sections of Eliza running away from Simon Legree, or, as they described him, King Simon of Legree, she expressed a greater emphasis on the ‘evil king’ portion of the slave owner, as if she was subtly referring to King Mongkut and his ownership of her as a concubine. It was a very intriguing way to compare the different methods of servitude here, as evidenced by Tuptim’s feelings over her condition. She felt like she was no more than property to King Mongkut, especially one brought over to him from her own country, one that’s been belittled and mocked by Siam after they’ve gone to war against each other several times throughout history.
Returning to the songs, as I revisited them on the film’s album, I noticed three more songs carried over from the musical and performed by the actors in this picture yet were not used in the movie.
The first is ‘My Lord and Master,’ performed by Tuptim. In this song, she lamented her condition as a concubine for King Mongkut and expressed her lovesickness for Lun Tha. While that song would’ve worked just fine in the stage show for the sake of further characteristic expositions, it could have dragged the story a little longer than it should if it was used in the film. Most importantly, Rita Moreno’s expressions as Tuptim comprehended her conditions were so well done that they practically spoke for themselves. So, it is a neat song, but it belonged more to the stage show than the movie.
The second one is ‘Shall I Tell You What I Think of You?’, sung by Deborah Kerr as Anna Leonowens. This song almost felt like her equivalent of ‘A Puzzlement’ by King Mongkut, except this song carried a more bitter and judgmental train of thought Anna expressed about King Mongkut, his wives, and his supposedly careless manners. Part of me feels like it was for the best that this song was not used in the movie, and not just because it could have dragged it out a little too long. It sounded less discriminating and more discriminatory and would probably have painted Anna too much in a negative light.
And the third one is ‘I Have Dreamed.’ Immediately following ‘We Kiss In a Shadow’, this would’ve continued Tuptim and Lun Tha’s love affairs, only this time they expressed more of how much they wanted each other while also fretting about the conditions they’re both in because of King Mongkut’s orders. My thoughts on this song are the same as my thoughts on ‘My Lord and Master,’ and I think the previous song covered most of that ground.
Listening to these songs, I wonder whether The King and I could ever have had a roadshow version, where it utilized all the songs from the musical and some extra scenes to add more weight and texture throughout the picture. With films like South Pacific, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, and other such films, they all had extended cuts that were saved for the roadshow showtimes back then. Could the songs performed but not used in the film have been arranged under the belief that The King and I was about to be given that kind of cinematic treatment, too? Anything is possible.
I can understand how not everyone would be on board with this because of the historical liberties it took, but must it be that big a deal? For every Pearl Harbor by Michael Bay, there’s also a Social Network by David Fincher. Neither film is historically accurate, but one movie concentrates on the general modus operandi of the real-life events it highlighted and demonstrates with exceptional craftsmanship, while the other tries to achieve that but focuses on the wrong elements and throws several things out of order in its attempts to achieve that effect instead.
My guess is, should there ever be a new cinematic musical interpretation of The King and I, there’s so much exposure to international customs nowadays that the critical factor in strengthening The King and I as a story is to convey it from not only Anna’s point of view, but also that of King Mongkut. This could cause a debate as to what the title would’ve been because of that, whether it’d be The King and I, or Anna and I, or just plain Anna and the King of Siam. However, there should be as much care taken to ensure that the representations of both sides of the alliance are displayed through and through. So, should a remake of The King and I ever come to pass, it must do something that honors both the customs of Thailand, the intuitive nature of Anna’s work, and the artistic extravagance of the musical.
As I’ve learned from Steven Spielberg’s interpretation of West Side Story, even musical classics can be remade and still work properly as long as they are handled by the right creators who know the story inside out and have another interpretation to offer. Compare that to the Disney live-action remakes, which offer their own interpretations of the same story but are copycats and classic wannabes that happened to have been expressed under the wrong creative hand. If West Side Story can be remade to stand on its own two feet with enough stylistic deviations to help it stand out as a distinct take on a classic musical, then so can The King and I.
And don’t even get me started on the animated King and I. I’ve never seen it, but from what little I have seen of it, it already reeks of excessive pandering to its audiences and a general neglect of its real-life foundations and even the legacy of the original musical.
As for what we got in this King and I, it is nonetheless a classic to relish in all its exotica, warts and all. The costumes are lavish, the settings are magnificent, the characters feel radiant, the acting is stupendous, the songs all feel distinguished, and its exposure at the time it came out may have played a role in its gradual mainstream popularity and high regard. There’s no telling what people may think of this interpretation since less biased storytelling is now becoming the primary focus among movies or shows with international appeal. Nevertheless, this film’s exposure to Thai culture was told with flair and elegance by Rodgers and Hammerstein, and it has become a staple among its fans and even historians who still find value in this movie.
Shall we dance…to the rhythms to be felt upon watching this picture?
My Rating
A
Additional Thoughts
I caught on to the many different aspects of contempt Siam expressed against Burma in this movie, typically regarding the new concubine King Mongkut received, Tuptim. And it turns out that, yes, both Siam and Burma have gone to war against each other surprisingly numerous times before. The latest war they had against each other wrapped up just around seven or eight years before the events of this film. It wrapped up in 1855, with Siam on the losing end.
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