Editor's note: Ruth Bingham, who reviews musical performance, and Joseph Rozmiarek, who reviews stage, both give their takes on "South Pacific" this week.

The sailors in "South Pacific" sang "There is Nothin' Like a Dame," but there ain't nothin' like musical theater, either. While opera unfolds in a world of music, and theater in one of words, musical theater straddles the two, slipping back and forth across precarious transitions.

For Hawaii Opera Theatre's "South Pacific," director Karen Tiller cast singers for the leads and children's parts, highlighting songs that made the show a huge hit: "Some Enchanted Evening," "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair," "Bali Ha'i," "Dites-Moi," and, of course, the one that clinched the show's Pulitzer prize, "You've Got to be Carefully Taught."

"South Pacific" won the Pulitzer less for its songs, however, than for its sympathetic portrayal of racially mixed marriages and its condemnation of prejudice, both shocking at the time of its premiere in 1949.

Set in the middle of World War II, the story revolves around two unconventional (for the time) couples. In the first, a young nurse, Ensign Nellie Forbush, falls in love with an older man, Emile de Becque, a widower, French expatriate and plantation owner with two children. (Note to audience: His first wife was a Pacific islander and his children are hapa, facts that are supposed to be scandalous and are crucial to the plot.) The second revolves around a young Marine on a dangerous mission, Lt. Joseph Cable, who falls in love with a local girl, Liat.

The whole is steeped in wartime struggles with the philosophy of life, ideals, risk and loss, carpe diem (seize the day) and memento mori (remember death): Once you have found someone or something precious, the musical counsels, never let him/her/it go, because your time may run out.

In spite of its underlying messages, "South Pacific" is still a comedy, full of witty banter and lighthearted scenes, right down to a (mostly) happy ending. In fact, it is the comedy that lifts the show out of lecture and into entertainment.

Friday's performance lacked the emotional pull of an "exotic" location and of dreams clashing with reality, but it told a genial story, in which music ruled. The audience laughed in all the right places, clearly enjoying the gags, songs and rousing choruses.

The main couple drives the story line. Baritone Louis Otey (Emile de Becque), not physically debonaire but tall, commanding, and entirely believable as a middle-aged Frenchman — accent and all — dominated. As a good father, he moderated his large voice for a lovely trio with his children; his parody of "Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair" was hilarious.

Ensign Nellie, the charmingly innocent hick, was portrayed by Michelle Jennings, who emphasized more long-limbed hick than innocent, and enlivened scenes with her vivacity. Only her scene breaking off with Emile faltered, perhaps because the situation seems so ludicrous today.

The second couple was limited mainly by its roles. Tenor Kip Wilborn (Lt. Cable) delivered an especially nice "You've Got to be Carefully Taught," one of the strongest dramatic scenes, shared with Otey (Emile). And U'ilani Kapuaakuni created a bubbly young Liat with her few lines.

Staging for this second couple, however, jolted the audience's emotional connection. Lt. Cable and Liat are introduced by Liat's mother, Bloody Mary, who has decided that Lt. Cable is going to become her son-in-law. Introductions to sex last perhaps a couple minutes, and Lt. Cable's realization that Liat is "just a kid" raised questions of loose morals, pimping, coercion, lust — almost anything but love.

Fortunately, the two comedy roles, Marlene Sai as Bloody Mary and Curt Olds as Luther Billis, kept the show moving. Bloody Mary is one of the largest, most memorable of roles. Sai looked and sang the part well, infusing bits of pidgin here and there, revealing flashes of the part's broad humor. Olds, a stage veteran, hammed up his role, garnering laughs with almost every line.

Of special note were Tyler Ikaika Bayley as Jerome and Raisa Bautista as Ngana, Emile's children; both sang and acted beautifully.

Lenny Klompus (Cmdr. William Harbison) and Andrew Doan (Capt. George Brackett) led the nonsinging roles, with an excellent scene about middle age not yet being over the hill in romance.

The weakest aspect was the pacing. Scenes alternately rushed and dragged, and set changes did not match up with their orchestration. Conductor Michael Ching, perhaps with an eye on his watch, rushed through songs that needed to linger and held tight to tempos that needed to bend, making it difficult for voices to bloom or singers to express meaning. "Bloody Mary," "Happy Talk" and "Younger Than Springtime" all suffered.

Choreography by Gregg Lizenbery was sometimes awkward but often delightful, as in "Wash That Man," and staging by Tiller swung between naturally lively interactions among leads and static scenes, particularly with some of the crowds and in the radio sequence.

"South Pacific" is revealing its age. Officers who are supposed to be good guys use "Jap." The local girl, Liat, remains a 2-D stereotype, pretty and silent. Interracial liaisons proceed smoothly until marriage and children are mentioned, at which point they become unacceptable. Lt. Cable, who engaged in premarital sex and who would have had a racially mixed marriage, gets conveniently killed off — a rather odd aspect of the "happy ending."

In reaction, director Tiller presents "South Pacific" as the period piece it now is, taking liberties mainly with the Bali Ha'i festivities, which became a high point of the production.

The celebration was performed by the Manutahi Tahiti dancers, directed by Pola Teriipaia. A lone dancer playing a nose flute led to a stage of dancers in fabulous costumes of reds and golds with fantastic feathered headdresses, backed by an onstage Tahitian music ensemble. That the dancing was Tahitian and not Tonkinese mattered not at all.