Poor Judd

There is a huge difference of opinion in the realm of American musical theatre scholars which was the beginning of the contemporary musical theatre form. we know and love today. In one corner, you will find the statement with absolute conviction that there are two kinds of musicals: the ones before Showboat and the ones after Showboat. In the other corner, the more modern lovers of classic musical theatre will turn to the much-lauded "Rogers and Hammerstein miracle" which was inaugurated with the opening of Oklahoma! a musical of such proportion that it's title is not complete without an exclamation mark. Both were huge landmarks in the evolution of the genre that serves as a medium for my life and both will always be favorites of mine, but, upon serious reflection, I have to concede victory to Oklahoma! for its sophistication and truth. The veritas of Oklahoma! is unique, not because of its care to paint a realistic picture of life on the territory at the beginning of the twentieth century (though I enjoy it all the same), but because of its consideration to give the villain some dimension beyond that of "the bad guy".
I remember being asked in my high school literature class when we were reading The Merchant of Venice if I held any sympathy for Shylock, the antagonist who ended up losing everything. My initial answer was a decided "no".  What good is a villain if you have to feel sorry for him? Furthermore, how can you cheer for the protagonist if you know that said protagonist's victory will be at the expense of someone with whom you sympathize? Those questions were my answer, and it made sense at the time, but Shuler Hensley's (freaking brilliant!) portrayal of Judd Fry made it all too clear to me that it's not so simple.
As actors, we have to remember that every character is his own protagonist and no realistic portrayal will be completely self-deprecating. To the popular gang lead by Antonio and Bassanio, Shylock is the greedy Jew (Jews are bad) who deserves no more consideration than a dog, but to himself, he's just a man; a man whose malice has been nurtured by cruelty at the hands of his neighbors and whose capacity for affection has been stunted by his rejection at the hands of his offspring. Should we, the audience, forget all that he's been through just because he threatens our heroes? Should we ignore his entreaties to see him as a human being because he's spoken of badly by the others? Should we be happy that he falls because it makes the other characters happy? Or should we remember the misery that garnering a happy ending entailed? Amongst all the catchy tunes and cheerful dancing, Oklahoma! reminds us that every comedy is at least one person's tragedy.
In some ways, Judd Fry's situation in the opening is more pitiable than Shylock's because he didn't even have the comfort of indulging in material things. Where Shylock put what was left of himself into prosperity, the only investment Judd could make is with his heart. Lonely man though he is, he reconizes that his ill treatment and poverty would be remedied if he could just acquire that one companion. It's just his dumb luck that the girl he sets his eyes on to be that companion is afraid of him. Laurie doesn't understand that the pictures he buys and his aggression are his only means of defense against the complete dispair that isolation can bring.  He discards the hopes of finding joy in trinkets when he shouts at the peddlar man "I want real things!" but he can't let go of the anger that comes when he doesn't get what he wants any more than he can let go of her. He makes threats about if Laurie changes her mind about going to the box social with him, but it's in retaliation to the threat that he feels when Curly says that he'll take her. Curly himself is handsome and charming and has no inhibitions in his life. He has everything that Judd wants and still insists on taking this one last thing. Is it any surprise that the poor man snaps? Is it any wonder that a man, ridiculed and ostracized by every society he's encountered hits a point where he decides that enough is enough and he'll take what the world has refused to give? All I heard about Judd when I watched Okalahoma! was his growly disposition. All I saw was his pain.
I don't know what Oscar Hammerstein was thinking when he came up with Poor Judd Is Daid, but I can't imagine a better way to show the audience the tragic nature of Judd's situation. There is nothing more pathetic than looking forward to your own funeral in hopes that people will appreciate you more in death than they did in life (perhaps these high profile suicides make more sense after all...). There is nothing more unfortunate that a loveable character letting his darkest colors seep through as he mocks a man consumed enough by his loneliness to listen to the funeral's description with pleasure. In the end, when poor Judd actually does die, there is no lamenting the way they treated him in his life. The tears shed are only for the inconvenience of having to deal with his death and any recognition of his humanity is put off in order to celebrate the happiness of the people who shunned him. Our hero kills a man with no remorse and the world doesn't even bother to make him go through the justice system. The happy ending had the stench of a rotting corpse over it and no one noticed. They celebrated for Curly and Laurie. I weep for Judd.