The prospect of a musical version of “The Bridges of Madison County” was scary — yes, even more so than a singing and dancing “Rocky.”
That’s because Broadway tuners can easily skid into sticky, stinky cheese, even without source material as cloying as Robert James Waller’s 1992 tear-jerker of a novel.
Add the unlikely casting of fair-skinned, golden-haired Kelli O’Hara (“South Pacific”) as the Italian-born heroine and the show’s tacky TV ad campaign, and it seemed “Bridges” would give us enough schmaltz to supply New York’s delis.
Happily, that’s not the case. Bartlett Sher’s production, which opened Thursday night, is merely a mixed bag, one in which cringe-inducing bits alternate with moments of musical-theater nirvana.
Despite the trepidation around her casting, all of the grace notes have to do with O’Hara. Not only does she deliver a finely tuned performance, but she also inspired composer Jason Robert Brown (“The Last Five Years”) to new heights. He tailored her character’s numbers to his star’s range and sensibility, and her songs, like “What Do You Call a Man?” and “Almost Real,” have a heartbreaking beauty.
Decked out in a brunette wig, O’Hara sings like a dream and is unexpectedly funny as the Italian war bride, Francesca. Indeed, she doesn’t look any faker than that other famously swarthy star, Meryl Streep, who played the role in the ’95 movie.
The time is 1965, the place Iowa, where an American soldier, Bud Johnson (Hunter Foster), brought Francesca from Naples 18 years before. Now they have two teenage children and a quiet life on their farm. As Francesca tells her busybody neighbor Marge (Cass Morgan), “I already have everything I need.”
But she doesn’t. And this becomes even more obvious when a hunky photographer, Robert Kincaid (Steven Pasquale, of TV’s “Rescue Me”), materializes while the rest of the family is off at the state fair.
He’s come to shoot the county’s covered bridges, and Francesca’s only too happy to show him the sights. Including some naked ones.
The pair’s connection is instant and deep, yet short-lived. But that liaison will haunt them both for the rest of their lives.
Brown and book writer Marsha Norman (“The Color Purple”) have largely stayed true to the love story, including its flaws. Pasquale is a dashing Robert, but the character’s too perfect to be interesting — a gallant feminist, he even makes delicious post-coital coffee.
And the supporting tribe is weak. Bud’s songs are clunky, and Robert’s ex-wife (Whitney Bashor) exists only to sing what sounds like a Joni Mitchell B-side.
The show really belongs to Francesca, whose songs brilliantly mix a sense of intimacy with near-operatic grandeur. This is perfectly encapsulated in the expository opening number, “To Build a Home,” in which she tells us how she ended up in Iowa as we see her house take shape onstage.
If there is an affair to remember here, it’s the enduring one between O’Hara and the audience.