My Fair Lady (adapted from Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion; book and lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner; music by Frederick Loewe) is, to be curt about it, a delight. Retaining all of Pygmalion's surface merits, all of Shaw's hardy perennial bloom, a variety of craftsmen have addedwith only trifling lapses and a slight disregard for lengtha brightness, an ebullience, a festive mockery of their own. In this British comedy of accents, no discordant American one intrudes; in this new rendering of a flower girl's transformation, thingswhere need behave not just been shifted, but transformed. To adapt a critical remark of G.B.S.'s own, those...
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