The Gold Dust Twins--Rodgers and Hammerstein--haven't done it again. "The King and I" is billed as a "musical play," but actually it is a slick production and very little more. Most of the trouble centers around Hammerstein's handling of the plot and dialogue. The plot, a warmed-over version of "Anna and the King of Siam," concerns the efforts of an English school-mistress to educate the King of Siam and his 77 children; it may have been all right for the novel and movie, but it is completely sterile for Rodgers and Hammerstein.

Richard Rodgers' music is pleasant, but there is surprisingly little of it, and only two songs are outstanding--"I Whistle a Happy Tune" and "Let's Dance." Although the score isn't anywhere near Rodgers' best, it is easy to listen to. On the other hand, Oscar Hammerstein's book is not always easy to listen to. Anyone who has watched Hammerstein's tendency toward quasi-profound sentimentality and gratutitous moralizing will not be surprised at the failings of "The King and I." Occasional bright and witty scenes are not enough to overcome the humorlessness of most of the dialogue. "The King and I" is not a musical comedy, and as a "musical play" it is unsuccessful in a great many ways.

Wise producers as they are, Rodgers and Hammerstein have put their work in a theatrical iron lung. They have assembled a fine cast, topped by the magnificent Gertrude Lawrence, and given the scenes and costumes designers full rein. Miss Lawrence understands what entertainment is, even if Mr. Hammerstein does not. As Anna, she sweeps across the stage with more charm and grace than it seems possible for a woman to command. Her voice is thin, but it is clear and sweet. And, as always, her high-comedy acting is a sheer delight, Yul Brynner, a veteran of "Lute Song," plays the King, and he brings to the part an excellent voice and some fine, convincing acting. Doretta Morrow and Dorothy Sarnoff are both impressive performers and singers, and they are both probably quite beautiful, underneath their Oriental make-up. The rest of the adult east is also sprightly and entertaining.

In addition to all these performers, there are also 15 children of various ages and sizes. Perhaps they are cute. But their presence on the stage indicates that Hammerstein is resorting to the depths of sentimental attraction. It does not take much talent, nor is it particularly clever, to get a response from an audience by using large numbers of cute kids. It seems as if the two children who sang "Dites-Moi" in "south Pacific" were fruitful, and multiplied.

Certain other resemblances to "South Pacific" should not be overlooked. There is a musical-play within a musical-play, in this instance a Siamese ballet version of "Uncle Tom's Cabin," by Jerome Robbins. The ballet is clever and colorful, but it also shows that the court of Siam and the Hammerstein concept of grass-roots America can be juxtaposed only so far without becoming ludicrous. The ill-fated, sub-plot love affair of "South Pacific" is repeated in "The King and I," and again the man involved dies. This time it's not very effective.

The costumes were designed by Irene Sharaff and the sets by Jo Mielziner. The costumes are lavish and imaginative; the sets are lavish. Mr. Mielziner's forte is not musical comedy, or even "musical play." "The King and I" is a large production, John Van Druten's direction is smooth, and the performances are all good. The trouble is that Rodgers and Hammerstein seem a little too reluctant to entertain their public. That is a fundamental mistake in show business. Perhaps the future will bring a change.