For many pop people the term “rock opera” remains a contradiction–call it a rocksymoron. They’re wary of the grandiosity in the Who’s story of Tommy, the “deaf, dumb and blind kid” who becomes a pop messiah. But in the original double album, and in the Who’s live performances of the work, they created a musical earthquake that opened cracks in the complacency of a shabby-genteel culture. Other groups had made rebellious noises, but never in an extended work with such sustained force and density. For Broadway, however, the eponymous hero has changed his values, singing “freedom lies here in normality.” With such changes Townshend, now 47, collaborating with Des McAnuff, the artistic director of California’s La Jolla Playhouse, has imposed a retroactive conservatism on his 24-year-old self.

The classic rock anthems are still there-“Amazing Journey,” “The Acid Queen,” “Pinball Wizard”-in orchestrations by Steve Margoshes that respect the original voicings and are played by a gutsy pit band. But the mystery and ambiguity, the poetic richness of the original has been flattened out. The Gypsy Queen no longer subjects Tommy to her patented drug-and-sex therapy; Tommy’s dad whisks him away, keeping the boy free from eros and psychedelia. As before, little Tommy is shocked into catatonia when his father kills his mother’s lover. The boy falls prey to his pederastic Uncle Ernie and the bullying Cousin Kevin, until Tommy turns out to be a pinball genius, becoming a savior of youth in a parody of a rock star.

The scenes of little Tommy are the strongest in the show-poignant evocations of an autistic child. But McAnuff has been seduced by Broadway’s high-tech rollers into an eclectic style that echoes “Dreamgirls” (tall towers), “Chess” (video screens), “Miss Saigon” (airplanes), “Les Miserables” (the people). The audience cheers the special effects, climaxed when Tommy hops onto a flying pinball machine, which explodes in a fireball. But there’s almost as much cheering when sodden old Uncle Ernie chug-a-lugs a beer and emits a burp like a sonic boom.

This “Tommy” has energy, and some witty choreography, but no sensuality or soul. Michael Cerveris as the grown-up Tommy epitomizes the cast, attractive but without real charisma. The new Tommy spurns charisma. “The point is not for you to be more like me,” he tells his followers. “The point is I’m finally more like you.” Townshend, the old guitar-buster, has created a new category. Wonk rock.