Eagle Theatre presents James Valcq and Fred Alley's 'The Spitfire Grill'

It’s easy to understand why. Although the plot — adapted from a 1996 film of the same name — sometimes seems both attenuated and overstuffed, Valcq’s lovely score blends classic musical-theater writing with touches of country and bluegrass, and Fred Alley’s lyrics paint compelling portraits of the citizens of Gilead, the fictional small town. Sadly, Alley died of a heart attack shortly after the musical’s premiere; one can only wonder what further collaborations with Valcq might have followed.

Talk of the town

In the show, Percy Talbott (Maggie Griffin-Smith) looks to rebuild her life after a five-year prison stint. Her best bet is a waitressing job at the Spitfire, though she’s watched over with suspicion by its flinty proprietor, Hannah Ferguson (Gerri Weagraff). Don Swenson’s wood-paneled set, atmospherically lit by Chris Miller, renders the rustic greasy spoon with lived-in authenticity.

Percy’s checkered past and quick temper make her the talk of the town, but everyone in Gilead has a secret. That includes Percy’s taciturn nephew, Caleb (brooding Tim Rinehart); his kind-hearted wife, Shelby (sweet-voiced Kimberly Suskind); and the local sheriff, Joe Sutter (excellent Patrick Joyce), who takes a shine to Percy during their parole visits. The grill holds painful memories for Hannah, leading Percy and Shelby to devise a raffle to give it away.

The Spitfire Grill works best as a slice-of-life character study, complemented here by Caitlin Geisser’s warm, empathetic direction. Each person in the ensemble — which also includes Chhaya Rowan as the local busybody — gets a moment to show the audience what emotions lurk beneath their skin.

These instances often coincide with the score’s best music. Shelby’s tender ballad “When Hope Goes,” chronicles the once-proud town’s decline, and in “Digging Stone,” Caleb laments his unintended loss of identity.

Warmth and welcome

Griffin-Smith sings beautifully and works hard to firmly wrest Percy from the realm of cliché. The gradual mending of her wounded, worried spirit seems authentic, as Gilead’s locals gradually put aside their trepidation and welcome her into the community.

Joyce’s sympathetic, quietly dashing Joe makes a strong foil — although both are somewhat hindered by David Pierron’s overamplifying, unnecessary sound design. The Eagle is an intimate space; there’s no need for the performers to wear arena-rock wraparound microphones, or any microphones at all.

Neither the musical nor Geisser’s production resolves every issue. Some plot elements tie themselves up a bit too neatly (the mystery surrounding Hannah’s son, declared MIA in the Vietnam War), while others are merely glanced at (the potentially abusive nature of Caleb and Shelby’s marriage).

The libretto, cowritten by Valcq and Alley, is the show’s weakest element, often seeming like a series of song cues rather than a sustained narrative. That leaves a lot of work for the score and singers to shoulder — and though they mostly do, a bit more development overall wouldn’t hurt.

But The Spitfire Grill benefits from a healthy dose of relaxed charm. And at the Eagle, it’s in good hands. Unlike the other famous fictional Gilead — in Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale — this is a place you’ll enthusiastically want to visit.