My Fair Lady

It’s tempting to call Signature Theatre’s unusual take on the venerable Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe musical My Fair Lady a gamble. After all, Signature artistic director Eric Schaeffer’s production has a cast of only 19 (instead of the traditional 44), no extravagant sets — and, oh yes, the orchestra has been shrunk to just two pianos.

But a gamble involves a choice, and there was none here. My Fair Lady was supposed to be the first show at Signature’s new, larger theater, where one imagines it would have been presented as a full-scale spectacle. But construction delays pushed back the venue’s opening until January, and Signature’s rights to produce the musical extend only through the end of this year. So, necessity has mothered a truly inventive production in Signature’s old, cramped, garage-turned-theater.

Some audiences might find this treament controversial, but it reveals certain strengths and beauties in the show that have sometimes been obscured in past productions. For example, when former flower girl Eliza Doolittle confronts linguistics professor Henry Higgins — who has transformed her into a society woman — about her future in Act II, the drama is intense. And that’s as it should be. My Fair Lady is, of course, based on the George Bernard Shaw play Pygmalion. Buried underneath the lavish sets and profusion of period costumes in many productions of the musical are Shaw’s rich characters and their emotional conflict over class and character; by cleaning away all the surface layers, Schaeffer has allowed this diamond to sparkle in a new way.

Moreover, James Kronzer’s simple black platform embraces the garage’s steel girders, now dressed up with Victorian flourishes, paying homage to Signature’s history while creating a stark atmosphere that puts the emphasis squarely on the characters. Kronzer does allow the occasional flourish, however, with a floor that can change color and rear screens through which dancers or a skyscape can be seen.

There’s only one fully engaged dance-propelled production number here, the riotous “Get Me to the Church On Time,” in which Terrence P. Currier, as Eliza’s unrepentantly ne’er-do-well father Alfred, tap dances the ensemble into a frenzy. The piano-only orchestration does sound thin at times, but most of the songs retain their power and charm. “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly” still lilts when sung by Eliza and her fellow street denizens. “With a Little Bit of Luck” is still infectious fun, and “The Rain in Spain” still cleverly combines patter with undulating Latin rhythms, and the dancers behind the screens move in individualized, precise motions that evoke the industrial age.

Sally Murphy, whose many Broadway credits include the role of Julie Jordan in Lincoln Center’s celebrated revival of Carousel, is luminous as Eliza, singing with so much passion and energy that she makes some of the songs seem altogether new. Whether it’s revenge in “Just You Wait” or joy in “I Could Have Danced All Night,” Murphy radiates an independent spirit and fresh-faced sexual allure, creating an iconic Eliza for the 21st Century.

Andrew Long, a longtime Signature favorite, follows a more traditional path as Higgins, remaining emotionally inaccessible until the very end of the show, when his façade finally melts during the beautiful ballad “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face.” He is a commanding presence, and his voice is clear and strong as he talk-sings (in the manner of Rex Harrison) such numbers as “Why Can’t the English?” and “A Hymn to Him.” However, there is no sense of his physical attraction for the young lady he refers to as “a squashed cabbage leaf.” The other roles are filled out mostly with Signature regulars; they include the redoubtable Harry A. Winters, who anchors numerous scenes as Colonel Pickering, and Will Gartshore as the upper-class but lower-income Freddy Eynsford-Hill, who sings the poignant “On the Street Where You Live” with heartbreaking sensitivity.

Gamble or not, this My Fair Lady is a fitting farewell tribute to the former garage where Signature made its mark.