Music makes up for rushed adaptation

Jo, the passionate heroine of Little Women now playing as the Citadel Theatre's season finale, is a plucky young woman determined to break into male-dominated writing circles with her swashbuckling stories.

She's a perky tomboy, a tornado of energy that doesn't let anything stop her. And it's her adventurous, determined spirit that attracted generations of young girls to Louisa May Alcott's 19th century warm and winsome coming of age story.

Loosely based on Alcott's family life, the story of the four March sisters and their stalwart mother takes place in Concord, Mass. In the distant background, the American Civil War is at its peak and a new order is establishing itself.

The world is changing, the sisters are maturing and finding their own paths in life, and maintaining strong family bonds without sacrificing individual dreams becomes a heart-wrenching challenge.

The story is a sweeping, family saga, a touching chronicle of love and loss, joys and heartbreaks. Alcott fully fleshed out the characters and the linear chapters flowed with a warm, homegrown serenity.

The same cannot be said of this musical adaptation from creators Allan Knee (script), Mindi Dickstein (lyrics) and Jason Howland (music).

Jo, the aspiring writer, has always been the story's lynchpin. But in this Bob Baker directed version, the story is more about Jo's hoydenish antics than an evenly balanced family album. And her principled literary aspirations often overshadow the deeply moving events of home life that gave the original its loving, nostalgic texture.

The musical begins with Jo (Shannon Taylor) living in a New York boarding house where she's desperately trying to sell a blood and guts adventure. As she reads her Gothic tale, the cast plays out a fantasy sequence with a duelling hero and villain that parry and thrust over the honour of a virginal heroine. In a slightly awkward segue, the scene flashes back to the March living room, a home of impoverished elegance that bustles with a lively energy.

The three sisters are trotted out: Meg (Melissa MacPherson) the romantic, Beth (Josée Boudreau) the timid pianist and Amy (Lana Sugarman), the insecure, self-centred sketch artist. And of course, there's the stalwart mother Marmee (Susan Gilmour), the cantankerous, but kind-hearted Mr. Lawrence (James MacDonald) and his nephew, the slightly goofy Laurie (Jeremy Crittenden)

The musical authors have telescoped some of the book's major events: Jo and Meg's first dance, Amy's destruction of Jo's manuscript, Meg's engagement, Laurie's proposal, Amy's trip to Europe and Beth's death. There are some touching moments, but they speed by so quickly, you barely form an emotional attachment to the characters.

What makes this three-hour production memorable and charismatic are some of the actors' beautiful voices and a soaring 13-piece live orchestra under the direction of Don Horsburgh. Without being overly sentimental or preachy, the tunes are sweet, funny, sorrowful and tender.

In particular Gilmour sings Here Alone, a power ballad with a sweeping score that speaks of a mother's fears, and Taylor's Jo was bursting with robust, rich-toned vocals in numbers such as Astonishing and The Fire Within Me.

Although this three-hour musical glosses over pivotal parts, it reinforces the power of strongly forged family bonds. And in our volatile world, that says a lot.