Hale Centre Theatre is spunky. Staunchly conventional, but spunky. However, sometimes things just work against this little company that could. This time around, a couple of things kept their latest production from being a complete success. One of the trip-hazards is the actual material itself: Lerner and Loewe’s Brigadoon is like wine turned to vinegar, a somnambulistic classic that ran for 581 performances in 1947, barely classifying it as a hit, but was made more memorable by the Gene Kelley movie based upon it. This longish trip to the mystical Scottish highlands has outlived its charm, a fact made only more obvious when director Don Doyle updates it to present day by sprinkling references to text messages and the Web. It’s still a slight confection (with three truly memorable songs) centered on the whiplash of near-instantaneous true love and a lot of hocus pocus to reach its foregone conclusion. In its defense, I suspect it is still a fan favorite with the Sun Lakes set. Another problem in this production is a slip-up of the company itself, one that is much more unforgivable.

Most of the cast sells the flimsy material, which is a point in its favor. They also handle Cambrian James’ jaunty choreography with flair, especially Patrick L. Salazar as the embittered Harry Beaton. Doyle’s oft clever direction uses the entire space to create this enchanted town, and the pacing is spry as it tries to sprint through the slow-moving plot. Lynette Kidman creates a well-acted and sung Fiona balanced by a rather generic but still golden-throated Bryan N. Stewart as Tommy. There’s little chemistry between the two, but they can make beautiful music together, which they are often called upon to do. Gary Caswell is establishing a slot for himself as the wisecracking best friend as he sarcastically jests his way through the role of Jeff. Jenn Toon is better than good as the lusty Meg as she gets up in the face of Caswell. There are some very funny choices in both acting and direction during her anthem “The Love of My Life.” Despite his being a wonderful dancer, Salazar horrendously overacts his jealousy over Charlie (Sean Campbell) and Jean’s (Deena Veater) impending nuptials, mugging his emotions like a silent movie villain. For their parts, Campbell and Veater are a great couple. Campbell is the prototype of the romantic lead, with a strong voice and assured presence, and Veater’s ballet movements are lovely. The rest of the ensemble is terminally chipper, though their singing is weak and their dancing skills vary widely.

There are many high roads and low taken in the design element. John Autore’s recreation of the Scottish highlands is effective, though it was missing a specific non-Brigadoon spot to act as a threat to those who are afraid to break the enchantment, a key theme in the play, and David Dietlein’s lighting is colorful and spectacular, using great washes and well-positioned pinpoint spots. While it’s a barely hidden dirty little secret among theatres forced to use soundtracks rather than live orchestras, you should NEVER-NEVER-NEVER be caught sweetening it. Michael E. Bryce’s flat pre-recorded music includes several moments of way-to-obvious choral vocal enhancement that inspired my wife to get up and leave only 20 minutes into the evening. Had my beloved Mets not been losing so badly in the simultaneously occurring playoff game, I might have joined her. Doing so, though, would have meant I’d miss some endearing performances fighting to rise above the mundane material.