Arden Theatre Company presents 'Once'

I found my seat just as Greg Wood launched into a stirring rendition of U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name,” backed by close harmonies from Scott Greer and Charlie DelMarcelle. I can’t imagine a better way to start a story about two people who discover love through music.​

Love blossoms

Based on the 2006 Oscar-winning film of the same name, Once captures the heart without losing its underlying sense of plaintiveness. Inspired in part by the romance between Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová, who starred in the movie and wrote the musical’s book and score, it incorporates the defining sensibilities of their cultures into a simple story about passion, desire, and loss. Hansard’s Irish stoicism and Irglová’s wry Eastern European humor blend in perfect harmony.

The music in Once — which also features a witty, literate book by Enda Walsh — doesn’t so much advance plot as craft a lingua franca for its characters, each of whom is devoted to its creation in their own way. Guy (Ken Allen Neely) and Girl (Katherine Fried) meet when she comes upon him busking with his guitar; she falls for his gritty lyrics and aching chords before she even sees his face.

As Guy and Girl become acquainted, the ensemble underscores instances of discovery with a series of folk-tinged, atmospheric songs. Alex Bechtel, who also plays Girl’s prideful brother, leads a lovely, haunting ballad called “The Moon,” which accompanies the central couple’s first moment of chaste intimacy. Lighting designer Thom Weaver bathes the stage in moonglow.

Love blossoms to the rhythm of Guy’s guitar and the scales of Girl’s piano. Neely and Fried show themselves expert stylists, his folksy playing complementing her more refined sound. (Neely’s pitch sometimes wavers when singing, but his voice has enough character to render it a forgivable offense).

Music everywhere

Their first duet, the well-known “Falling Slowly,” spins captivating drama out of music that, on its face, seems plainly anti-theatrical. The lyrics hardly matter; the mood is everything.

I don’t mean to imply that Once lacks drama. Walsh, a celebrated playwright, stacks the script with scenes that alternate humor and heartbreak in meaningful ways. Small characters glow with inner life: Guy’s gruff but loving father (Wood, understated and moving), Girl’s bawdy mother (Emily Mikesell, a hoot), a bank manager who longs to unleash his inner rock star (DelMarcelle, flaunting a surprisingly strong singing voice).

Director Terrence J. Nolen imbues even the most mundane encounters with meaning. His production also makes excellent use of the cavernous F. Otto Haas Main Stage, here arranged in a full round by scenic designer David P. Gordon. Music happens in every nook of the space — you cannot help but feel it overwhelm you.

But the production’s greatest strength lies in the unforced chemistry between Neely and Fried. They convince utterly that this pair could go from strangers to soulmates in a matter of days. They also never elide the plain fact that their love might be fleeting. A quiet scene in which the pair address their true feelings broke my heart.

That kind of mild, melancholy air blows through Once, but it never turns frigid. And after the story itself is settled, it seems appropriate when the company again takes center stage to send us home with one more rousing nightcap of a song.