Yes, we learned long ago that a hundred million miracles are happ’ning ev’ry day. But would we have ever imagined that one of them would be that the 1961 film of Flower Drum Song would make the National Film Registry’s list of preserved films?
Sure, Flower Drum Song definitely means well. Wang Chi Yang is a Chinese immigrant now living in San Francisco, but he’s still Chinese through-and-through. He has two sons: The younger is Wang San, a teenager who has been easily assimilated into American life. The older son, Wang Ta, is pulled between old Chinese traditions and the new-fangled United States. The book, on which Oscar Hammerstein II collaborated with Joseph Fields, comes to a nice conclusion that there is worth in both cultures. Along the way, there are some catchy Richard Rodgers melodies, too.
Still, Flower Drum Song lacks the importance of the Big Five R&H classics, for it is a “mere” musical comedy. Hugh Fordin, in his marvelous biography of Oscar Hammerstein, quotes the author’s opinion of his 1958 musical: “I’ve had some unlucky flops in my life. I’ve had some plays that deserved to run better than they did. And then I’ve had some well-deserved hits. But this is the first lucky hit I’ve ever had.”
Nevertheless, Flower Drum Song becomes the third Rodgers & Hammerstein to make the National Film Registry list that’s annually added 25 titles since it was founded in 1988. The first was – no surprise – The Sound of Music in 2001. Oklahoma! followed just last year. Fine, but would you have guessed that Flower Drum Song – the least successful of the team’s six hits – would have been next? Sure, South Pacific and Carousel have their problems and detractors, but many might have expected The King and I to be the third R&H chosen, if another was to be chosen at all.
One of the original purposes of the registry was to ensure that these films would not be butchered when aired on network TV; that’s why, if you catch The Sound of Music in one of its holiday airings, it often ends at an odd time, beyond the hour or half-hour mark – because nothing has been cut. If that policy remains in place now and forever, any network that shows Flower Drum Song will give its audience such lines as “If I cross her, she’ll cut me off without a fried noodle,” “Don’t take any wooden chopsticks,” “She’s built like a Ming vase,” and “I never fully approved of the old custom of drowning daughters.” There’s also “I got another kumquat in the face,” which is not to be confused with, “The old man sure left you with egg foo yung on your face.” Still, the least politically correct line is what an on-stage comic says after he’s delivered a joke that’s bombed: “Back to the laundry.” Under these circumstances, the observation that Wang Chi Yang says to Wang San could double as a criticism of the script itself: “You have an unfortunate way of expressing yourself.”
The Registry asks that every musical number be sacrosanct, too. That not only means, “Dong-dong, you’re in Hong Kong” must be retained, but also the 13 seconds where Wang San and Linda, Wang Ta’s girlfriend, sing a snippet that goes, “You be the rock, I’ll be the roll; you be the soup, I’ll be the bowl; you be the furnace; I’ll be the coal.” Later, in “Chop Suey,” Bobby Darin and Sandra Dee are both mentioned. The two saw their marriage dissolve after less than seven years, but now they’ll probably be forever linked through the protected film version of Flower Drum Song.
Interesting, isn’t it, that the National Film Registry asks that neither a word nor a frame of the Flower Drum Song film be changed, while The Rodgers & Hammerstein Organization felt that the original stage play could be extensively revised, and hired David Henry Hwang to do it?
So why was Flower Drum Song chosen by the National Film Registry while The King and I was not? The answer is apparently that the latter film cast the respective roles of Tuptim, Lady Thiang, Lun Tha and the Kralahome with Rita Moreno, Terry Saunders, Carlos Rivas and Martin Benson: Not an Asian among them. Yul Brynner, who of course played the King, was Asian in that he was born in the part of Russia that is located in Asia. Nevertheless, he wasn’t quite Siamese, if you please.
But as the citation for Flower Drum Song says, this film “marked the first Hollywood studio film featuring performances by a mostly Asian cast, a break from past practice of casting white actors made up to appear Asian. Starring prominent Asian-American actors Nancy Kwan and James Shigeta, this milestone film presented an enduring three-dimensional portrait of Asian America as well as a welcomed, non-clichéd portrait of Chinatown beyond the usual exotic tourist façades.” So while we’re inclined to think of the National Film Registry’s choices are Great Movies, that’s not what the organization is looking for: It wants to recognize those films that are “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”
And though Juanita Hall (who appeared in the stage show as well) was actually African-American, two important Flower Drum Song roles that were played by Caucasians on stage were on film portrayed by Asian-Americans: 1) Ed Kenney, the original Wang Ta, was replaced by Shigeta. 2) In the role of his romantic rival Sammy Fong, Larry Storch was originally cast, though by the time the show opened in New York, the equally Caucasian Larry Blyden had succeeded him. On film, Japanese actor Jack Soo got his big break with the role.
Am I complaining about Flower Drum Song’s being chosen? I really can’t, for in my life, the film turned out to be “culturally significant,” too.
Here’s why: In 1961, when I was 15, I was just becoming aware of this wonderful thing called The Broadway Musical, so the moment Flower Drum Song came to the RKO Keith Memorial in downtown Boston, I rushed there and sat in the very first row. A few minutes after the film began, I heard two men settle in directly behind me in the second row. And for the next two-plus hours, I noticed that every time I laughed at a line, these two guys laughed just as hard; when I merely chuckled, they merely chuckled, too. Almost always, we started and stopped laughing to the precise second. We were all on the same page with this one, true soul-mates in humor.
The second the film ended, I spun around in my seat to say, “Wasn’t that great?!” – and was surprised to see that the two guys were African-American. Understand that I came from a lily-white suburb where there were simply no black people at all. I’d never met one. I’d never spoken to one. And while the nuns at the Catholic schools I’d attended had always taught us that “Everyone is the same,” this is where I learned it was true. And wouldn’t Oscar Hammerstein, of all people, have been utterly pleased to see that his lucky hit had carefully taught me this lesson? Wouldn’t he have also loved the irony that a Caucasian-American and African-Americans were responding to a story about Asian-Americans?
Coda: A week or so later, I was sitting in class, and as soon as school ended, Margaret Trometer came up to me to say she’d seen Flower Drum Song. My reputation as a lover of Broadway musicals was already spreading, so Margaret knew I’d give an eager ear to her opinions. So, while our teacher Sister Marillac was collecting her papers and getting ready to return to the convent, she overheard Margaret gush about this story of an Asian family in conflict.
And after Margaret said, “And, oh, that James Shigeta! Isn’t he handsome?” Sister Marillac’s eyes widened as she screeched, “Handsome? A Chinaman?!?!”
You may e-mail Peter at pfilichia@aol.com