Yes, it’s back. No, this time it doesn’t suck. Yes, it still has its share of problems. No, I really didn’t want to enjoy sitting through another live production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. Yes, despite my reticence, Scottsdale Desert Stages Theatre’s version kept me from bringing out the hacksaw for my review. No heads shall roll here, even with its list of lackings.

Chief among the lacking elements is the wandering, aimless, purposeless blocking of Edgar Andrew Torrens. This show succeeds despite its merry-go-round movements and consistent clockwise twists. It is partially salvaged by Antonio Villareal’s cute choreography, but mostly by its lead performers. Without their spunk and enthusiasm, this would have been just another tired retread of the remounting of a cartoon. Without the talent of Amber Gildersleeve as a perky Belle, Matthew Harris as a cheeky Lumier, Aaron Tucker as the stodgy Cogsworth, and Barbara McBain as a nurturing Mrs. Potts, this would have been a total snorefest on a Sunday evening.

This is what DST seems to pull off consistently. Even when one or two major elements are lacking, something comes along to at least partially salvage the effort. Gildersleeve is collecting quite a nice repertoire of musical theatre characters with DST. Her Belle is not as gripping as her Maria or smart as her Gypsy Rose Lee, but I mean, c’mon, it’s Belle for crying out loud: she does the best with what she’s given. She sings the heck out of the role, dances beautifully, and smiles as sweetly as you’d expect from a Disney™ Princess©. Terry Helland’s performance of her tormenting Beast is not as strong, but he distinguishes himself during their courtship scene with his baritone and his comedic timing. The lacking in Chad Krolczyk’s Gaston is not in his chemistry with those around him, for he plays well with others, nor in his comic timing, but the flat notes he tosses out at the end of nearly every line he sings. Still, he gets most of it right, and that works for me. Though he often seems to be going through the pratfall motions, Jimmy Shoffman’s Lefou fills the role of everyone’s punching bag.

In the end, it’s Gildersleeve and the trio of Harris, Tucker, and McBain that are terrific, bringing forth the broad humor and treacle in palatable ways. Candlestick, clock, and teapot are well-cast. Harris especially jumps into his role with aplomb, and leads what proves to be the most threadbare of productions of “Be Our Guest” to traipse across Valley stages. That brings me to the other major disappointment of the evening: the ensemble.

Normally, the ensemble numbers at DST are a saving grace, but here, several of the members of the basic ensemble (those Townspeople without secondary characters) appear to have been dragged in from the Coco’s next door. They are inept musically and when tripping through their choreography. I couldn’t help but notice one of the elder stateswomen standing before me looking completely clueless, singing the wrong line and dancing the wrong steps. Sadly she was not alone.