Rodgers & Hammerstein's "Flower Drum Song" turns 50 this year, and has had numerous productions in Honolulu during that time. But if you thought you'd seen enough of it, find time to take in the new version at Diamond Head Theatre.

David Henry Hwang's 2002 rewrite gives the musical a new sensibility by rearranging plot, characters and songs — merging the familiar with the unexpected.

Hwang is best known for his disturbing "M. Butterfly," which delivered a wrenching twist to East/West stereotypes, so it's not surprising that his take on "Flower Drum Song" is darker, sharper, and less sentimental than the original.

Broadway purists might object to his cuts (the lovesick seamstress, the Americanized second son, and "The Other Generation" are all edited out.) But Hwang's refocusing retains tenderness and humor. His characters are more authentic and genuine and drive the action instead of being manipulated by it.

It starts with a surprising prologue in Communist China, setting up Mei-Li as a heroine who escapes political oppression and not a docile picture bride. Excellently played by Autumn Ogawa, Mei-Li steers her own course in this version, making some emotional poor choices, but generally advancing her own cause.

That character line is especially striking in her Act Two delivery of "Love Look Away." The song is a lyrical set-piece in the original — lovely and plaintive and sung by a minor character. Hwang gives it to Mei-Li, makes it a major plot element, and turns it into an angry (but thankfully short-lived) renunciation and personal manifesto.

Similarly interesting changes happen between the traditional Chinese father and his somewhat Westernized eldest son. Wang Chi-Yang (Wil Kahele) performs Chinese opera to empty houses, forcing Wang Ta (Brad Mezurashi) into playing the women's roles, but allowing him one night a week to turn the theater into a Chinese-American nightclub.

But fate and commercial success change their relationship as the father becomes a show-biz comic and the son grows a new appreciation for his cultural heritage. The ultimate reversal occurs when the father admits things might have been different "if I had let you play the men."

What follows is a visually riveting dance between the older man in Western business suit and the younger man in full opera regalia, reversing their gender roles and cultural orientation at the same time.

Lest this sound too unsettling, be assured that showgirl Linda Low (Kathryn Mariko Lee) still "Enjoys Being a Girl" and Kahele and Cathy Foy-Mahi (in the new role of talent agent Madame Liang) put all the right comic elements into "Don't Marry Me." Kenji Higashihama also enjoys a few fierce turns as a cross-dressing costumer-turned-chorus girl.

Riding out the plot changes, the original score continues to satisfy. Judy Yoshioka conducts the orchestra and steers her singers toward the right notes. Ogawa is competent on "A Hundred Million Miracles" and "I Am Going to Like it Here." Mezurashi climbs the difficult ranges of "You Are Beautiful," "Sunday," and "Like A God," showing only a little vibrato.

Lee and Foy-Mahi need only businesslike belting for "Fan Tan Fanny" and "Grant Avenue."

With Hwang driving the plot and memory driving the music, it falls to director and choreographer Greg Zane to direct traffic and punch up the dances. He does this very well, and the full chorus dance numbers, boosted by Karen Wolfe's fine costumes, become the strongest visual elements on an essentially black-box stage.

The chorus is striking doing tai chi movements in black pajamas in the show's prologue, flashy and sharp snapping acoustical fans in the nightclub number, and hilarious wearing outsized take-out food boxes equipped with green headlights.

For extra credit, the showgirls significantly fill out their swimsuits and Foy-Mahi delivers a worthwhile tutorial in how to milk a laugh line.

You shouldn't miss this show. Ultimately it's not about assimilation and cutting away, it's about growing strong roots in new soil and retaining integrity. Zane is absolutely right that "this ain't your Popo's "Flower Drum Song."