Heartfelt: Writers' quietly eloquent 'Once' a musical theater experience you won't forget

“Once” - ★ ★ ★ ★

Some 25 years ago, on a midwinter weeknight, some friends and I went to Chicago's Beat Kitchen for a songwriters showcase, an open mic night where musicians tried out new tunes.

One young singer/songwriter entranced not only the handful of people in the audience, but his fellow musicians, who were so inspired by his wistful melodies they joined him onstage to serve as his impromptu backup band.

Witnessing that communion made for a memorable night. A similar communion is eloquently depicted in “Once,” the hushed, heartwarming chamber musical by composer/lyricists Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova currently running at Writers Theatre.

It occurs at the end of the first act, which unfolds during an open mic night at a Dublin pub where a melancholy singer/songwriter known only as Guy transfixes fellow patrons with his plaintive tunes. After some initial razzing, the fellow patrons quickly realize they're witnessing something special. The rapt audience at Writers' opening realized it, too.

The capacity audience at the Glencoe theater likely expected as much from the stage adaptation of director John Carney's low-budget 2007 Irish film about two musicians whose brief acquaintance changes their lives. The film, which earned Hansard and Irglova an Academy Award for their song “Falling Slowly,” is well-loved. So is the Tony Award-winning chamber musical it inspired, which pairs Hansard and Irglova's pensive, folk-rock score with a warm, amusing book by Irish playwright Enda Walsh.

While “Once” addresses grief, depression and perseverance, it is essentially a love story, or very nearly a love story. But I think it's best described as a story about love: Love that is lost, estranged, elusive, tentative. It's about the love friends and family (both biological and chosen) have for each other. And it is about a shared love of music that soothes the soul, uplifts the spirit, softens the heart and leaves everyone a little kinder for the hearing.

Just about every character in this show is heartbroken, including Dublin street musician Guy (Matt Mueller, who's deeply felt performance is one of the most affecting by a musical theater actor in recent memory).

We meet the aspiring musician/vacuum cleaner repairman six months after his girlfriend moved to New York and one year after the death of his mom - just as he decides to give up music. However, his stooped shoulders and haunted expression of a man about to surrender suggest music isn't the only thing he's contemplating giving up.

Watching Guy perform is a young Czech pianist known only as Girl. She's played by Dana Saleh Omar, whose candor and complexity brings dimension to the whimsically eccentric, profoundly perceptive young woman who is both the musical's soul and its catalyst.

Recognizing Guy's talent and sensing his despair, Girl intervenes, insisting his songs “need to be sung for you, for me, for anyone who has lost a love.”

Before long, they are making beautiful music (and only music), which Girl insists they record. She enlists fellow musicians, including music shop owner Billy (Matt Edmonds, who supplies much of the comic relief), flatmates Reza (Elisa Carlson), Svec (Lucas Looch Johnson) and Andrej (Liam Oh) and the Bank Manager (Yuchi Chiu), himself an aspiring songwriter, who lends them the money to record a demo tape.

Rounding out the first-rate cast is Bethany Thomas, music director Matt Deitchman, Jordan Golding, Elleon Dobias, Ron E Rains (terrific as Guy's grieving dad), and Kajsa Allen and Viva Boresi, who alternate in the role of Girl's daughter. “Once” requires the actors to accompany themselves, and director/choreographer Katie Spelman's ensemble does so joyfully. I recommend arriving early for the rousing preshow “seisiun” (an Irish jam session, which on opening night included Talking Heads' “This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)” and the Cranberries' “Dreams,” followed by an Irish reel and a ballad, all of which set the mood beautifully).

Delicately staged by Spelman, it is a lovely show defined by graceful, intimate interactions (flatmates offering each other consolation, a father encouraging his son's passion) and glorious musical expressions, as in the exquisite “Falling Slowly.” An impromptu duet between Guy and Girl, moments after their first meeting, it begins tentatively, then intensifies as they gain each other's trust. “Gold,” the aforementioned first act finale performed by the Guy as a kind of entreaty, is poignantly reprised in the second act. An A cappella benediction, it takes one's breath away.

Also deserving mention is Yael Lubetzky's nicely attuned lighting, which perfectly illuminates this soulful tale about how love - more specifically the love for music - unites, comforts and sustains.

Location: Writers Theatre, 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, (847) 242-6000, writerstheatre.org

Showtimes: 3 and 7:30 p.m. Wednesday and Saturday; 7:30 p.m. Thursday and Friday; 2 and 6 p.m. Sunday through April 2

Tickets: $35-$90

Running time: About 2 hours, 30 minutes, with intermission

Parking: Street parking available

Rating: For adults, contains mature language

COVID-19 precautions: Masks strongly recommended