March 15th was a quiet day, falling as it did squarely between Purim and St. Patrick’s Day. However, any red-blooded American show queen was, or should have been, all a-twitter, because March 15th is a great date in the history of The Broadway Musical. On that date in 1956, Lerner and Loew’s My Fair Lady opened, flooding the theatre district, and the world beyond with light, charm, elegance, comedy, great theatre music and fine performances.

But the trip to Broadway for George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion was not an easy one. The rights from Shaw’s estate were notoriously difficult to obtain, and once Lerner and Loewe had secured them, "wise Broadway professionals" warned that the project was undoable.

In fact, Alan Jay Lerner and Fritz Loew auditioned their partially completed score for Mary Martin, hoping she would consent to play ElizaDoolittle. After the pair left, Miss Martin turned to her husband and said, "Those dear boys have lost their talent."

Well, the work was eventually finished and the three major roles were cast. Dashingly handsome Rex Harrison was to play Professor Henry Higgins, the speech teacher who tried to teach flower girl Eliza Dolittle to be a lady; the renowned British music hall star Stanley Hollaway was picked to play the bumptuousfather of the heroine; and, in the role of Eliza, a twenty-one year old former British child star, who had made a fine impression on the New York public a year earlier, as the ingénue in The Boyfriend—Miss Julie Andrews.

Higgins’ friend Col. Pickering was played by the delightful character actor Roberte Coote, and in the brief but memorable role of Higgins’ mother, there was the aging but still very beautiful Cathleen Nesbit.

Opening night, Rex Harrison was one very scared actor—he had never sung in public before, and the smartly articulated pitched moaning that he called singing unnerved even him.

But how I envy that opening nightaudience hearing the My Fair Lady overture for the first time and watching the curtain rise on the ladies of the ensemble parading around the Covent Garden set. They wore Cecil Beaton’s gorgeous and expensive gowns—outfits that were only worn for five minutes each night.

Then there were the highly applauded entrances of Miss Andrews and Harrison, staged by the brilliant Moss Hart. When I am finally put in charge of these matters, I will decree that all My Fair Lady revivals must be produced with replicas of the original sets and costumes.

You may well ask why I am gushing over a 50 year old show. Answer: It’s a bloomin’ masterpiece. And there are many wonderful stories about My Fair Lady, most of which concern Rex Harrison, who apparently was, well, difficult.

It has been said that Rex was mean to Julie during rehearsals and behaved piggishly towards Stanley Holloway. Then there was the night when Harrison’s toupee caught on a rising chandelier in the Ballroom Scene, revealing a bald-pated (and embarrassed) "Enry Iggins."

Even better, one night Harrison became very audibly flatulent in a crucial scene. Since Higgins’ next line was, "My manners are the same as Col. Pickering," the audience howled.

Despite his behavior, Harrison was a great performer. No one croaked out "I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face"better than he did. And My Fair Lady made Julie Andrews an instant star when she sang, with Harrison and Coote, "The Rain in Spain" followed by "I Could Have Danced All Night."

My personal favorite MFL hilarious moment happened when I saw the show in German at the Vienna Volksoper. Near the end of the first act, while the scenery was being changed, a painted curtain dropped down showing the invitation to the Queen’s Royal Transylvanian Ball—in English. How elegant—except for one small error. The invitation read: "The Queer of Transylvania Requests the Honor of Your Company." I laughed so hard I almost fell out of my box and onto the stage.

In fact, rumors of cryptic gayness have always swirled around My Fair Lady. I personally don’t hold with the theory. I think Henry and Eliza are a straight couple, albeit a rather strange one.

But, despite Higgins’ seeming lack of scorching libido, he is attracted to Miss Dolittle, and she worships Higgins.

Of course, fueling the gay theory, there is Higgins’ famous second act song "Why Can’t A Woman Be More Like a Man." The title of this witty number was suggested to Lerner by his then wife, Nancy Olsen, when they were bickering. But again, I think this song reflects the thoughts of an irritated heterosexual whose fair lady has run out on him. I think such tolerant, open folks as ourselves can occasionally accept a work of art that does not deal primarily with gay issues. Although it’s possible that Oklahoma and Brokeback Mountain could someday be combined.

My big question, however, is why was there no 50th anniversary production of MFL on Broadway this year? Oh, yes, there were rumblings about one, but it didn’t happen. But the last of its three revivals was back in 1993.

That cast was headed by Richard Chamberlain, a recent refugee from Closetland. Chamberlain, a bloodless actor on most occasions, was a particularly aloof Higgins (said to be feuding with his leading lady Nancy D’Errico). To those who prefer to believe that Professor Higgins was queer, this shoddy production offered the most evidence to support this thesis.

But that was 1993. Why nothing now? I bet many Letters readers were children in 1993. They shouldn’t miss out on their show queen cultural heritage.

Indeed, My Fair Lady is a giant even among the other great shows. If you’ve never seen it, rent the movie, which is less than perfect, but seems to improve each time I see it. But it’s a damn shame that no one in the whole Broadway community planned a 50th anniversary production of My Fair Lady. On March 15th I was reduced to staying home with my CDs and LPs –listening to the score in Italian, German, Hebrew, Spanish and Yiddish. I celebrated thebirthday of this unforgettable musical, which has given me and so many others such pleasure for the last half century.

With a little bit ‘o luck we’ll see a Broadway revival soon.