The wave of Boomer Nostalgia in theatre has moved into its next inevitable phase: The mythologizing of their teen idols. While Arizona Theatre Company is turning the super-talented and mega-destructive Janis Joplin into a tragic figure, Phoenix Theatre is bringing life to the late Denny Doherty and still-living Paul Ledoux’ “Words of Love” for Doherty’s wildly-popular folk rock quartet with Dream a Little Dream, The Nearly True Story of the Mamas and the Papas. Known for such 60s anthems as “California Dreamin’,” “Monday, Monday,” and “This Is Dedicated to the One I Love,” Doherty and his cohorts, gifted songwriter John Phillips, his siren of a wife Michelle, and the big-voiced and big-boned “Mama” Cass Elliot only managed to record four albums but scored 14 top 100 hits on the US and UK charts between 1965 and 1972. The quartet was founded on the ashes of various failed folk groups decimated by the rise of the Fab Four; dedicated to the principals of progressive music with a message and lots of hallucinogenic drugs; and torn apart by flirtations, jealousies, bickering, and lots of hallucinogenic drugs.

Doherty and Ledoux’ script is dense, covering eleven years and over 20 songs in 22 scenes. This is still really a draft of a musical, workshopped by director Michael Barnard and adapted from Doherty’s solo work. While there are a few points that are confusing in terms of time and location, the work is pretty impressive in handling its broad scope and keeping the music in tune with the mood of each of the events chronicled. Doherty is the central figure of the piece, but the play lives and dies with Cass (amazingly channeled by Alisa Schiff), and becomes more or less an homage to her, since she is the quartet’s enabler and comes off with the least negativity. Doherty (John Ashley Brown) is rarely without a Crown Royal bottle, one into which he eventually crawls. John (local actor Michael Sample) is a mix of left and right brains, coming up with beautiful music and reducing everything in his life to salesmanship once he’s done creating. Michelle (Mishaela Fauchér) is a free spirit, fully enjoying her options during the Summer of Love, moving back and forth between hubby John, adoring Doherty, and others, ripping things to shreds in the process. It is Cass’ life force that brings them together, holds them close, keeps them from splitting, and with her death, leaves them without the power to recover. For a draft of a musical, this production is impressively polished.

Barnard has collaborated with scenic designer Gregory Jaye and lighting designer Michael J. Eddy to create a very busy, but extremely supportive environment to allow for this episodic script to move smoothly between locales, times, and moods. Give Barnard and his designers credit: I never thought I’d see so impressive an acid trip portrayed on PT’s main stage. Using a central recording studio as its base, relying on a projection screen to aid with announcing locations and creating visual effects, this team has taken what could have been a mish-mash and made it easy for those who may have lived through the 60s, but not remember them too clearly to understand.

Barnard’s choreography comes not in dance breaks, but in guiding the four principals and his four excellent featured players (Bobby Benton, Jenny Hintze, Dion Johnson, and Mark Stoddard) in, around, and through scenes, keeping the eye engaged and the mind comprehending. Nothing is overwhelming, and everything can be easily figured out with Barnard’s guidance. Kudos also goes to Alan Ruch and his small, but powerful, backing band.

His performers are quite impressive. Brown’s only problem as Doherty is that his character is textually weak. Perhaps because of the playwright’s inability to see around himself, Brown’s Doherty spends a lot more time watching his life unfold than participating in it. Still, he has an amazing voice and a strong connection with everyone that aids in keeping him from disappearing when the text lets him down. Sample’s John is played well as a communal capitalist. Sample captures both extremes of this complex character and keeps him from being too despicable too soon. Faucher establishes Michelle’s desirability and her openness, but is wise to also show us the negatives of her flightiness. It is Schiff, though, who does the most with what she is given. Cass Elliot can easily become an iconic figure, especially the way that Doherty and Ledoux have created her. Schiff keeps this earth mother earthbound rather than idealized. When she is cajoling the others, you can see the love and frustration. When she is baring her soul, it’s not for effect, but with intent. And when she is singing, she captures the depth and breadth of Cass’ abilities. This is a standout performance. The ensemble is also quite effective, most especially Johnson, who plays several distinct roles with aplomb, and gives an excellent recreation of Scott McKensie performing the anthem “If You’re Going to San Francisco” in between ongoing scenes.